Vulgar appreciation for the opposite sex.

Loving. Loving. LOVING the new ad campaign for Old Spice. The clever part about it is they aren't just marketing to men...they're also marketing to women who control what their men smell like. It's fantastic and hilarious and he's beautiful. I'm on a horse.

Old Spice Youtube Channel. DO it.
"We're not saying this body wash will make your man smell into a romantic millionaire jet fighter pilot, but we are insinuating it. "yeah fucking right. fantastic.

splendid video captions:
What's better than seeing a hot girl on a beach? Nothing. Nothing is better. Maybe nachos. A hot girl lying on nachos. But that's impossible.

Don't smell like sunsets and baby powder. Smell like jet fighters and punching.

How many scents does Old Spice make? How does 4 million sound? Also, how does 12 sound?


Thank you, Wieden & Kennedy, thank you.

for beautiful fucking example.

I love me some hi-ho cherry-o

hoarding

I don't know why but I'm apparently in a collecting mood. I'm slowly decorating my apartment and I was just thinking how I would love to have old board games to put up. Or ouija boards. Or both. Sounds like such a good thrift store hunt.

Flicker/Flickr

I decided yesterday that I am going to collect Chandeliers. Well, pictures of Chandeliers. Probably not professional ones though. Just pictures that I take with my phone...of chandeliers that I see.Yeah. I have two so far and one that I forgot to take a picture of last night. It's in my friend's living room though so don't even worry chandelier-collection-gods, I got this.
One is from the Crystal Ballroom.



The other is from Backstage at the Baghdad Theater.



And in related news, I started a flickr for my photos of Portland. It's a beautiful and really interesting city and I'm trying to remember to take pictures of it. I'm no photographer so they aren't very good but still fun to have. These won't generally be pictures of myself or of my friends in portland (That's what facebook is for, after all) just of the city itself. Flickr name is mridderb if anyone is interested (slash, if anyone reads this besides melissa and michelle? I don't care, btw, if anyone else reads this. I mean, if you were wondering, non-readers- I don't care. So, there.)

beautiful torturous lunchtime

I'm on lunch at work, eating leftovers of a meal that my lovely lady friend bought me that neither of us could rightfully afford, dreaming of my dinner of peaches and pickles (?!) and taking advantage of the internet (because I don't have access at home!) by browsing Sartorialist, Urban Weeds and Lookbook.nu. And now all I want to do is go on a thrift-store shopping spree that I obviously can't afford because a round meal is something I can barely remember and I don't turn my heat on anymore. But I want amazing sweaters and colored tights and beautiful ridiculous clothing that Melissa would hate but then borrow later. I think my dream is to be photographed for Urban Weeds. I don't flatter myself by thinking that I'm worthy even one day on average out of the week. But, le sigh. Once in a while I pull together something wonderful and I want them to see it.
This hour of fashion obsession is brought on by the fact that I LOVE what I am wearing today. I love those days when I feel exactly like me in the clothes that I put on. My favorite part- the shoes that I found next to a dumpster at Everyday Music. Yeah, you heard me. They fit me and they are lovely and I think we were destined for each other.