Tag Archives: asshat

“You… but dead.” (Dear Marie Claire, Go Fuck Yourself V2.0)

So not only does Marie Claire want you to follow some heinously misguided “nutrition” advice to achieve your ideal body, they have also kindly provided a handy tool to help you imagine what you might look like if you were say, emaciated from your healthful diet of lemon water and enzyme supplements.

Meet the Marie Claire “Virtual Weight Loss Tool.” Under the charming heading of “You… but better” this handy application modifies pictures you upload of yourself to simulate weight gain or loss. Haven’t you always wanted to know what you’d look like if you lost 40 pounds? Or gained 20? (Interesting that the program allows you mimic 40 pounds of weight loss, but only 20 of weight gain. Perhaps they think our tender self-esteems cannot handle a vision of ourselves 40 pounds heavier. God forbid, that’s like an entire starving adolescent in Guatemala!)

Developed by the social innovators asshats at ModiFace (“The world’s most advanced virtual makeover technology”), this is an example of evil at work in the world. If you go to the ModiFace website you can read that the software includes “over 100 virtual makeover options, including cosmetics, anti-aging, hair style and color, weight loss, dress simulation, and skin care effects.” So can we assume their services also include virtual skin lightening, eye-lid westernization, and hair de-kinking?

And to add insult to injury, the software isn’t even very good! Here’s what I would look like should I want to lose 40 pounds a and go into renal failure:

And here’s me a revolting 20 pounds heavier! Listen, if you’re going to go to all the trouble of developing software to body shame us, at least make it functional!

The “Virtual Weight Loss Tool” is just another example of Marie Claire being completely tone deaf when it comes to discussions of body image and health. Obviously the same could be said of any Lady Mag, but Marie Claire seems to be a particularly egregious offender.

So I think we should do something about it. Go onto the anorexia machine and doctor a photo of yourself looking either alluringly cadaverous, or revoltingly obese. If you’re feeling spunky, flip the bird as I have done. Or even better, eat a cheeseburger while taking the photo. Then send them into the Editor in Chief of Marie Claire, Joanna Coles at JoannaColes@hearst.com. Or twitpic it and tweet it to @marieclaire.

We don’t have to let this wash over us like everything else that tells us we are too fat, or not eating enough mulched Kale. Let’s take this opportunity to scream as loud as we can.

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Who Okayed This? (Charlie Sheen edition)

This is not a picture of Charlie Sheen because I never want to see his face again. This is a picture of an adorable puppy.

Like this asshat needs any more words written about him, I know. A part of me hoped that this man was like that annoying person at the party. Just avoid eye contact and hopefully they’ll go away or at least pass out on top of the pile of coats in the bedroom. But the problem is, he’s not that person. He’s more like that person at the party who backs you into a corner in the kitchen and feels you up before puking on your new shirt. Or to be more precise, he’s like the ebola virus. He will make you shit blood.

There have been lots of great posts on El Asshat (as he will henceforth be called) like this one about him and his Asshat in training Chris Brown. So why wade into the fray? Because of this nonsense. That’s great everyone. Pay a hundred dollars to go watch an abusive addict desecrate the Massey Hall stage. Beyond the horrifying image conjured by the name of the tour – “My Violent Torpedo of Truth.” Really? Really? Why don’t you just call it “My Rapey Penis” – the fact that people are clamouring to attend makes me so stabby because:

1) This man is obviously mentally ill. So we’ve managed to monetize someone’s complete unravelling. And yes, he’s doing it to himself. All of it. But that kind of makes it worse since obviously this is not someone who is making anything close to a good decision. Even President Bartlet Martin Sheen AKA Dad called him “emotionally crippled.” And this coming from a guy who had a nervous breakdown on camera.

2) You’re paying money to go watch someone who has a prolonged history of violence towards women. And in going to see him or in saying that anything is winning or tiger blood or whateverthefuck you are essentially condoning his behaviour. Yes you, asshole hipster, who thinks this is all so hilarious. Or even if you don’t think it’s hilarious and every El Asshat tweet you write is ironic it DOESN’T MATTER because you’re still giving him space in the public realm and therefore making ME have to hear about him more. HE SHOT HIS GIRLFRIEND IN THE ARM. DO NOT GIVE HIM YOUR MONEY OR YOUR TIME. It’s really that simple people.

Upside: Two and a Half Men might be over forever. And that would definitely improve the overall quality of life in North America and abroad.

Look for the silver lining.

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