UAG

The Rarest of Occurrences Caught On Camera

Spotted in Union, NJ: A Bank of America where all three teller windows are OPEN.

THIS IS NOT A PHOTOSHOP

UAG

UAG

Twitter's Least Used Hashtags, Week of September 30

Twitter is full of crackpots, trolls, dipshits and attention whores. But even they refuse to use certain hashtags because they have a reputation to keep. Here now are a few of the least used hashtags that you are certainly welcome to add to your Twitfeed:

#Chucky'sprivates

#HotTopicgiftregistry

#cerealboxtopsforsex

#prosandconsofdiarrhea

#stillquotingCaddyshack

#plungerfullofguacamole

#undercoverbosswantsyoufired

#CivilWarreenactmentdatingsiteforracists

#IamnotbeingsarcasticrightnowImserious

#1hournonstopofAllIWantForChristmasbyMariahCarey

UAG

The EADJ Facebook De-Friender Returns

Sometimes one post is all it takes to want you to drop a Facebook friend forever. Harsh? Maybe. But check this shit out and tell me you wouldn't do the same:

Bye bye, G_________! Away from my News Feed!

UAG

This Week In Hip Hop Awfulness

Giant ghostly 50 Cent sees something but doesn't say something.

That's a pretty unfortunate place to overlay an armpit. Nice "Purple Rain" font, though.

These days in elementary school, if your teacher catches you with dirty doodles on the inside of your Math book, you don't report to the principal's office- you're put in contact with an aspiring rapper.

Okay. One, I hate DJ Clue because he blabbers all over every track on his mixtapes. Secondly, MarkerFeltWide? Not listening to this one.

Drake gets his mugshot taken in Andy's Room.

I hope this album has nothing to do with Buckner & Garcia.

Fabolous and Nelly lost to two old ladies at canasta in Gainesville, Florida, but they shouldn't feel so bad- those women are vicious.

"Aw man, Cee-Lo gets to be fire, Big Gipp is smoke or wind or whatever, and Khujo gets to be water, but I gotta be dirt? That ain't right, man. That ain't right."

K-Ci and JoJo wonder why it's taking so long for their table to be seated, but the host doesn't have the heart to tell them they're sitting in a Raymour & Flanigan store.

After securing a blimp and a permit, Lloyd Banks prepares to cross one item off his bucket list: urinate on the Chrysler Building.

Some facial hair looks like the hobo symbol for 'gentleman.'

"Now where did I put my overwrought self importance? I know I left it here somewhere..."

Sean Kingston learns to never print his album cover from a Kinko's color copier.

I'm really not sure where to begin here. The two guys wading in beer? The stripper silhouette and the two O's in 'BLOOD' accidentally making a cock and balls? The cheapo Zazzle t-shirts? You tell me.

You may have heard that many of the Warren Commission records on the JFK assassination have still been sealed and are to be released in 2017. When they are, you will find that it was Jackie Kennedy in a hoochie club outfit who was actually shot in a blaze of Pepto pills and playing cards. True story.

Snoop Lion and his kids joylessly release an album together as a "family bonding experience." Both of the kids are so embarrassed that they wear their training pants over their faces. 

I'm not sure where in Flatbush you can find a freestanding house, much less one with nice siding and nice storm windows. Cheer up, fellas. You scored a great rental!

Rapsody should know not to linger near basketball hoops for an album cover, thanks to Top Dog:

This Week in Hip Hop Awfulness

Here's the latest and greatest in surprising and confusing hip hop mixtape covers:

Arrogant flips the bird to the Earth, grabs his Avatar booty bitch and bags of cash and gets away in a flying saucer. Little does Arrogant know that Na'Vi women don't have genitals and simply connect their ponytail to yours to have sex. Whoopsie!

That's different. A mix tape about your full-time job as a systems analyst for a heating supply company in Lawrenceburg, KY.

I've never been a fan of Gucci Mane, so I damn sure don't want to see his no-talent chump ass spitting rhymes about booty and cars in 3D. 'Wow, I can almost reach out and slap that ice cream cone tattoo off his face!'

Borrowed interest that's 30 years old is still borrowed interest.

Yes, Wiz Khalifa, some of us get the reference. No, it doesn't make any sense.

Okay, Jarren Benton. I am puzzled but impressed.

Bishop Lamont sheds his pope hat for a more sensible Common cap and pretends to be waiting to fly somewhere as he masters Plants Vs. Zombies in a Gaussian blur haze.

Declaring yourself a badass King of New York is one thing. Accidentally associating yourself with a Ugandan guerrilla who abducts children to force them to become sex workers is another.

"Hi there. I'm Wiz Khalifa. You're probably wondering why I'm sitting at the Sears Portrait Studio wearing some lady's real estate blazer. Well, I'm just here to tell you that I remember you. Thanks for listening."

Resting On His (Spicy) Laurels

Spotted in Manhattan, a gyro cart that features a laminated, horribly Photoshopped photo of the proprietor next to Bobby Flay.

"Excellent LAMB!! Rahman"

Meanwhile, I can't order one of these excellent lamb gyros because Rahman's asleep. HELLO?!

UAG

My apologies to the makers of Adobe Photoshop for the flagrant misuse of their fine product.

My New Favorite Photo

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Monday Entry, An Entry For Monday

Click to enlarge, an ad found in Parade Magazine, which comes in most Sunday papers.

Jerald Update?

No new news from Jerald. Sorry.

SHIT! FALSE ALARM!

Mere days after we first made contact with Jerald, we received an email this morning that got our hearts aflutter:


But closer inspection revealed it wasn't an email from Jerald Johnson, world traveler. It was from GERALD JANSSEN, advertising photographer. FUCK!


You can peruse Gerald Janssen's portfolio here, but this is cool, too.

A Wedding Gift

(pictured above, my appetite for grilled panini is ruined by the ghost of Clara Withnall, who died in a horrific panini fire on this very spot in 1830. They say her ghost can be heard when you use this panini press late at night. She is supposedly still searching for her missing burnt hand, moaning, "Wheeeere's my hand?")

Also, the panini press itself is a ghost.