Top ten THIS motherfuckers!

Ok so this morning we heard on the radio that askmen.com had put out their anual list of the Top 49 Men. The top ten are:

10. Bill Clinton
9. Jorge Perez
8. David Beckham
7. Johnny Depp
6. Jerry Bruckheimer
5. Tom Ford
4. Lance Armstrong
3. Richard Bronson
2. Jay Z
1. George Clooney

An intersting list, we found. While it is dominated by the image of rich, hetero, and white, we find this list to have a healthy mix of politicians, athletes, and hollywood celebrities. There is the token black man (stupid Jay Z) and the latino activist (Jorge Perez), so obviously Ask Men has their bases covered with this. Then we noticed that there was a Top 99 Women list. Ninety-nine! we thought, Wow!

The top ten women listed are:

10. Eva Longoria
9. Natalie Portman
8. Amerie
7. Jessica Biel
6. Charlize Theron
5. Maria Menounos
4. Adriana Lima
3. Angelina Jolie
2. Sienna Miller
1. Jessica Alba

.....

Actress, actress, singer, actress, actress, host of Entertainnment Tonight, supermodel, actress, actress, actress.

Wow. All of them white (except idiotic, single-named Amerie), all of them under 30.

This hurts us, truly. Besides the fact that some of these women are downright ugly (cough*Menounos*cough), all of their pictures are taken in full red carpet splendor. Which is fine, as everyone wants to look their best, but CHRIST look back at the top ten men! They are 40+, wrinkled, saggy, and some of them are downright nasty*. Richard Bronson is obviously not as rich as everyone thinks he is or he'd be able to hire a proper hair stylist. And the same goes for you Jerry Bruckheimer! God, how we hate Jerry Bruckheimer.

ALSO, and this part really takes the cake, the criteria for getting onto the women's list was based on their 'desirability'. IS THAT EVEN A WORD YOU CHAUVANISTIC PIG FUCKERS??!?!?!?!?! The Top 99 Women were chosen based on those that were "collectively deemed the year’s most alluring" while, for the men's list, readers were asked to provide "the names of those men that you consider to be the best representatives of the male gender". So the men are listed according to some fictitious notion of manliness, while the women are listed according to fuckability. (Consequently, if one examines the numbers of the two lists, one will notice that there are two women for every man, with one extra woman... a wild card, perhaps?)

How many women on this list will be remember in one year? In five years? In ten? How many will be knocked off as soon as a few crow's feet sneak onto their faces, or their breasts stop being so perky? How many made it to the list because of their exceptional mental abilities? We see no female politicians, atheletes, producers or trillionairs, no mention of intelligence being attractive at all. And while we shouldn't really be suprised, considering the site itself, which boasts five million readers a month, is directed at men only, there are still five million men learning to condone the objectification of women! The sexism and predjudice here is more obvious than a twelve foot erection singing 'Yankee Doodle Dandee'. If we were Stephen Colbert, we would say 'AskMen.com, you're on our list!' Anyone who dismisses the idea of double standards is a twat and rapes donkeys.

So go ahead and drool over your precious Jessica Alba, while the rest of us, with our 'love handles' and 'stretch marks', contort our minds and bodies to fit into your ridiculous notions of beauty and sexuality. Despicable.

eli's wounded Soul

*We do not include Johnny Depp and George Clooney in this, as they are smart, talented, sophisticated gentlemen who are simply divine.

On Raconte about the King

So last friday we trecked up St. Laurent to the Main Hall, which is a room at the top of an anonymous stairwell in the middle of fucking nowhere. We battled our way uphill, against the elements which have plagued this fair city in the recent weeks. The reason we made this journey was to see the Tiny Crazy Guitar-Playing Lady, known to everyone else as Kaki King. Our first thought upon arrival was "Yay! Tiny venue! No matter then, that we're at the back!" But then we remembered, Kaki King is tiny, hence our nickname for her. So we slipped up to the front, finding enough room for us to actually lean on the stage. Twas freakn' sweet. The lady herself arrive promptly and stunned us all with her charm and talent. We've decided to rename her Tiny Adorable Guitar-Playing Lady. Her music gave us goosebumps. A lovely evening, truly.

We are on a bit of a roll, concerning wonderful concerts. Last month we went to see The Raconteurs with a hope of glimpsing Jack White. To our sheer delight, we found ourselves three feet away from the stage, merely a few arm lengths away from the man himself. The band was brilliant, bombed our expectations (which were low, to be honest) way far away. And Mr. White, well... we love him. He's now on our list of rock stars we are stalking. He is le yummy.

Watch Kaki King!

EliEliEli

PS - In the second video, she is using a loop pedal thingy, which means she records a riff live, then loops it while she plays a new riff. During the concert, she played that, and then when she'd played all the riffs she could on the slide guitar, she ran across the stage, and started playing the drums. Was awesome.

Procrastination, our old friend

Today we scoured the city for a Roger's phone booth that would revive our comatose cell while providing us with a temp phone , but a two hour search by metro, bus and foot proved fruitless, as no such place exists. Our shoes became a soggy, smelly monstrosity, our socks - a lost cause. We did, however, count a remarkable amount of sattelite dishes mounted onto the walls, roofs and balconies of the apartment buildings we passed during our travels. These flat gray disks that speckle our less-than-rich neighbors strike a strange note in our mind. One can find little clusters of them in some places, either huddled together for protection against the harsh climate, or shoving each other out of the way in competition for TV signals, depending, we suppose, on your own warped view of the world. Is this our new cityscape? Are these stupid dished to be forever peaking out at unsuspecting passer-bys from every nook and cranny? And will someone expalin to us the SIZE of some of these things? We simply cannot wrap our minds around these ugly beasts.

Now it's time to play "What is on Eli's destktop?"

Well, aside from a few webpages about gastric bypass surgery (for an article which we truly do need to begin writing...) we have found this, marking a sad day for underground punkers, and this, for those of you with an hour and a half to kill (The links to the next 8 parts show up once you're finished with the first one).

Now, we go to shove this blog in front of the facebook community.

Bye.

Confessions of a 2-for-1-beer whore

Will this incesant ringing never stop???!!!

We attended a party at one of those pubs that has a little hip hop club on their second floor. The music was loud and hip hop-ish, most of the people were strangers, and the lights turned into a massive, painful strob-fest. So now we rest next to our laptop with an irritating buzzing in our ears, a product of the shitty music that was too loud, and that forced us to yell into the ear of the person sitting next to us. Thus, ringing, pain, irritation. We need hummus...

POST HUMMUS

Four beers in 2 hours. Must be some kind of record. Hope this weekend (and week) passes in some kind of relative daze so that we can skip to the vacationy goodness that will be next weekend (mini break, as the brits say, to Quebec City!).

This sunday, we foolishly invited our family over for dinner. Was done in a moment of pride, to show how well we can support ourselves, but we have realized that our appartment is a) crooked b) in a sketchy neighborhood (well, sketchy to people used to the west island) and c) not clean. So we have to clean it, since its the only item on the a-b-c list that we can alter. But, that means cleaning, which has always posed a challenge. Goddamn.

It's hard to focus our eyes. Maybe we should get some water. Or vergetable juice!

POST VEGETABLE JUICE

We are drunker than we thought. Whilst attempting to shake our 1-Vegetable-Shot juice can, our wrist engaged itself in the most spaztic of spaztic movements we have ever witnessed. There was no quick back-and-forth shake up, only an epileptic fit that may or may not have knocked over the lamp in our living room. Tomorrow is the time to decide such things.

Hmmm, vegetable juice has helped with focusing problem. Maybe our coordination problem has gone away too!

POST GUITAR PLAYING ATTEMPT

Nope. No coordination.

brainheartsoul

PS - We will now vomit out all links currently saved on our desktop.

Proof that women secretly control the world

Proof that women still have a long way to go

Link to new Killers song that will soon expire

For all you Commies

For all you music geeks

A frighteningly accurate portrayal of what we talk about during most discussions at school