Faux Photography: 43 Stunning Super-Realistic Works of Art
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I’m Sure You’ve Heard Of It
…by now, but I’ll post anyway. Viewing courtesy of a rogue click from MADATOMS, my new favorite source for sharp, hilarious shit like this. VIDEO: Web series about a Web series that’s really not much of a reality series. Based on dumb hipsters played by smart hipsters working in a “music store” that sells items like Shitty Saved By The Bell Poser Guitar for $133.71. It’s irony and its set-pieces and soundtrack are obnoxiously cred-grabbing, but thanks to its comedic sharpness, I’m not left wanting to murder anyone wearing a hoodie. Episodes here.
"I’m not a racist. I just don’t believe in mixing the races that way. I have piles and piles of black friends. They come to my home, I marry them, they use my bathroom. I treat them just like everyone else."
— Keith Bardwell, a Louisiana justice of the peace who refused an interracial couple a marriage license. (via hatethefuture)
In January 2006 in New York, the patient of a well-known psychiatrist draws the face of a man that has been repeatedly appearing in her dreams. In more than one occasion that man has given her advice on her private life. The woman swears she has never met the man in her life.I would post a picture, but it’s too creepy for Tumblr. [thisman.org]
That portrait lies forgotten on the psychiatrist’s desk for a few days until one day another patient recognizes that face and says that the man has often visited him in his dreams. He also claims he has never seen that man in his waking life.
アホな走り集 — or, roughly translated — “Watch this. Improve your day.”
![If Video Games Were Realistic [Cracked]](http://14.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kq4guewbRq1qzefmko1_500.gif)
If Video Games Were Realistic [Cracked]
"It doesn't sound as if Jaycee Dugard got to see a sports page."
I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve never been held against my will in a freaky-deaky rapist’s yard for 18 years. But I imagine most of my regrets over “what could have been” would stem from all those missed broadcasts of the 11 p.m. SportsCenter. Orange County Register sports columnist Mark Whicker just penned the shit out of what is either the most brilliantly subversive anti-journalistic article ever crafted or the most awkward, self-absorbed jumble of text this side of Vice Magazine:
Box scores were not available to her from June 10, 1991 until Aug. 31 of this year.
She never saw a highlight. Never got to the ballpark for Beach Towel Night. Probably hasn’t high-fived in a while.
She was not allowed to spike a volleyball. Or pitch a softball. Or smack a forehand down the line. Or run in a 5-footer for double bogey.
Now, that’s deprivation.
Ha ha ha! We can all relate, right? God sports are so great. Any time I’m not hearing Stuart Scott say something like, “He must be butter, ‘cause he’s on a roll!” I totally feel like I’m being raped for two decades. Read the full story here. [via The Awl]
Michelle was horrified to discover that an involuntary double-blink while eyeshopping had resulted in that cute pair of hover heels being shipped to her old address.
First roffle of the morning.
"My God, this song is about everything."
