Air Station Was Shocked.

Air Station was shocked.

Urinal Holes was, too.

Electric Meter Panel's mouth dropped open.

Subway Car Suspension hid in the dark from the embarrassment.

Dyson Airblade felt uncomfortable talking about it.

Ketchup Station was goofy and confused.

Indifferent Octopus winked and told everyone to chill the hell out.

The EADJ Fashion Round-Up, Fall 2016 Look Book

So somebody once told you you resemble Steve Perry, so you fancied yourself a rock star and started wearing hipster jeans so tight that they rendered your parents infertile.

When you dress like John Goodman in "The Big Lebowski," people assume that either you're cosplaying or about to whip out a gun in a bowling alley.

The problem with "urban fashion" is that it automatically makes you look like a six year old going to a sleepover and suddenly you're not interested in women.

Thank God she found the matching pink shoes. Otherwise she'd never have left the house.

Going to take the dog out to take a shit on the pavement? Wear long slacks that drag on the ground with sandals, of course!

(This photo submitted by Emily Kane)

Whether you're the living embodiment of the Flintstones' Bam-Bam or Gary Busey in a "biker phase," you'll want to hang out at the roadhouse in this grey-tshirt-and-sleeveless-denim-vest ensemble to announce to the world that you're "too fast to live, too lazy to pick out a better outfit."

Amazingly, Somehow Yet Another Off-Brand TP Roundup

Brand: Marcela Pro Snow Lily

Brand Imagery: Big pink maxi pad (or a pink wooden clog?) floating on a pink sea

Brand Promise: Virtually LINT FREE

Feels Like: Wiping your ass with paper that's just as strong as clothesdryer lint

Brand: Either "b" or "q." I can't tell.

Brand Imagery: a tiny blue tsunami curling on itself

Brand Promise: None

Feels Like: running a taxidermied marlin's dorsal fin between your butt cheeks

Brand: Carefree Choice Series

Brand Imagery: A leaf

Brand Promise: Feels like a leaf

Feels Like: A leaf

Brand: Boardwalk

Brand Imagery: A plain, unfriendly red and blue rectangle

Brand Promise: You will be taken to a refreshing walk along the Jersey Shore

Feels Like: Steve Buscemi shaking you down for all your struggling shop's money

Brand: Roses

Brand Imagery: Grey and pink lettering. Plus a grey rose.

Brand Promise: "Your ass will remember me."

Feels Like: Your butthole is the latest "Bachelorette," and all the suitors are wearing sandpaper tuxes.

Previously On Unitex...

Two doctors. Two different care approaches.

He's chief surgeon of cardiology. She's head of orthopedic surgery. They don't always see eye to eye. In fact, when they're together, it's always...

HEAD TO HEAD, Tuesdays 9/8 C on CBS.

Episode 1: "Pilot"

Dr. Latimer takes issue with Dr. Cahoney's use of a controversial, experimental procedure. The patient survives, but only because Latimer intervenes with a ladle.

Episode 2: "Alliances Forged"

Dr. Cahoney's team of residents are barred from Latimer's cardiology ward. They pose as terminally ill children to gain access and rub it in Latimer's stupid face!

Episode 3: "Series Finale"

Dr. Latimer and Dr. Cahoney can't hide their three-episode-long romance from their co-workers and get unceremoniously fired. They are quickly replaced by a variety show with breakdancers and ventriloquists.

This Week In Hip Hop Awfulness

Yes, but where is the long form certificate, Boaz?!

I don't have much to say about this one except it better fucking rhyme.

"Drillary Clinton?" On blue lipsticks? Even if you had an explanation handy, I wouldn't want to hear it.

Look, someone took one of those faxes that old people used to send each other to hang on their office walls (like that frog choking the crane trying to eat him: "NEVER GIVE UP") and turned it into a mixtape cover.

I dunno. Any Teen Wolf loses cred with me the moment he starts drinking "purp."

"I am a beautiful flower and I do not give a fuck."

Xanax giving the middle finger. Jax Briggs and Raiden from Mortal Combat. Intoxicated cartoon stars. No change on this one. 10++

WHY TRY IF KANYE DOESN'T

One thing the Maryland DMV really hates- people who burn the popcorn in the break room microwave.

SkippA dA FlippA is tellin yA he's not good with his Rs.

That time we got bored and sat on miniature shit.

I hear that wooden plank spits some serious bars.

Either this guy is stuck in a Hype Williams video from the 90s or he's looking forward to "Rogue One: A Star Wars Story."

Here Are Your Job Numbers For This Week

Hi all-

Karlsen from IT here. Those of you who do not subscribe to my monthly Snorks fan fiction podcast may not be familiar with my sense of humor, so please bear with my wacky sensibilities as I make the following company-wide announcement:

ATTENTION ALL EARTHLINGS: YOUR TIMESHEETS ARE DUE BY END OF DAY TODAY. THAT'S RIGHT, TODAY. FAILURE TO DO SO IN A TIMELY MANNER WILL RESULT IN DISINTEGRATION. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, HUMAN WEAKLINGS!!!!

j/k, guys. Here are the job numbers:

582597: Translating the lyrics for Starship's "Sara" into Spanish

732201: Hiding your ATM PIN number from the prostitute that's with you

124187: Hiding your raging hard-on during an audit

663215: Ordering from QVC just to talk to another human being

922593: Whipping out your Qdoba loyalty card at a Chipotle

222750: Hoping your friends don't notice you stole a bunch of Opie and Anthony jokes

524597: Spelling Matthew McConaughey's name without having to Google it

820005: Bullying Best Buy's Geek Squad

886363: Communicating with your better self in a parallel universe

392581: Successfully resuscitating Resusci-Anne doll

272203: Stopping your cable news interview to vomit into a bucket

634524: Using chip clips to clamp your belly fat for laffs

711129: Swatting at imaginary bees that are actually not imaginary at all

The ProofrEADJer: ROCKtober Edition

A Very Dark UAG

Comic Strip Where The Last Panel Is Always A Remote Oil Rig

The One Where Emily Vents About Her Least Favorite Words.

Here once again is the new EADJ segment "Emily VENTS," where Emily Kane seethes about stuff she doesn't like.

They're not overused, they're not slang (old or new), they're not consistently used incorrectly and they're not pretentious in any way.  I just hate them.


Helping.

As a verb, all good. As a noun, however: “May I have another helping of tuna noodle casserole?”

No. A helping can never be a dignified piece of chicken or a serving of cous cous. It’s a depressing,  warming-tray offering from your local hospital cafeteria that is either clearly out of a can or altogether unidentifiable. It’s the oily casserole dish that your grandmother serves in her doily-covered dining room when she “means well.” Problem is, the kid that says this actually means it.

Forever alone.

Dumpster.

The sad, fat, stunted younger sister of the illustrious Spinster.  Can be found lurking in the comfort shoe section at Dress Barn.  Approach with caution.

God told me I deserve supportive footwear.

Napkin.

MOM: “Put your napkin in your lapkin!”

ME: halfway out the driveway already

You’re doing it wrong.

Ointment.

“Oink” + “cunt” + greasy, thick oil = I will punch your mouth in the face if you suggest I use anything other than cream on my ringworm. 

Here comes the lipstick…

Bulbous. (not a Pokemon character)

Brings to mind nut sacks, goiters, nose warts, cauliflower ear and the Elephant Man.  Mmmmm.

When your goiter is perkier than your tits.

Yolk.  

That soft, subtle, shitty “l.” It’s like you tried to say yuck while your banana and egg yolk milkshake was still clogging your throat.  Choke on that, folk.

Err on the side of caution.

Bulge.

I’m suddenly assisting the whole cast of The Outsiders in rolling their jeans.

This Rob Lowe has cable.

Cheese Cloth.

Left on the cutting room floor alongside “urine sack hammock” in the “transvaginal mesh” brainstorm.  Shredded. 

Your gauze is showing.

Slacks.

Your grandpa called.  He needs you to help him slide these on his pasty, hairy legs.  Don’t you forget to tuck in those yellowing, oversized boxers, now.  (Careful with that elastic.  It’s about to pop at any moment.)

“Pappy needs a foot massage, dear.”

The preceding piece was written and compiled entirely by Emily Kane. Comments and complaints can be sent to: ekane@eadj.tv or posted as comments to this entry.