Hilary Duffashian

Here is a before-and-after picture that Hilary Duff tweeted of herself, without explaining what exactly she did to come out looking like Kim Kardashian. Did she get that freaky Korean smile surgery? Her lips look to be the same amount of plumpness before and after. Her eyebrows are thicker and darker in the after photo, but not by much. How can this drastic change in her look be explained?

I'm concerned about this apparent trend of beautiful young starlets becoming Kardashianized! First it was Naya Rivera, who'll be next? Watch out, Ariana Grande! Don't let them take away your headbands and white pumps!

Lindsay Lohan's Now-Infamous List

Just in case you lead a full and meaningful life and have not heard about Lindsay Lohan's list of famous sexual conquests, let a bottom-scraping gossip addict fill you in on the story. Reportedly Lindsay was with some friends at a restaurant and made this list of famous people she had sex with, then she forgot the list when she left. An enterprising soul found the list, sold it to "In Touch" magazine, and now we have a bunch of ashamed famous men. James Franco denied that he had sex with Lindsay, and so far he's the only one to do so publicly. Poor Heath Ledger has to get his denial out there via Ouija boards and images appearing in food items.

Lindsay recently appeared on "Ellen," and when asked about the list did not deny that she made it. I'm not sure if this is good publicity for Lindsay, but at this point she'll take any publicity she can get in order to stay famous and marketable. And really, who hasn't made a list of their sexual conquests? I bet Julia Roberts updates hers quarterly and makes her husband take it to Kinko's and get copies for all of her friends.

Supposedly more of the blurred-out names on the list will soon be revealed by "In Touch," and these will be the most scandalous of all. Until then, all we can do is guess, and here are my best guesses:

Charlie Sheen (duh!)

Garrison Keillor

Pauly Shore

The Shamwow Guy

Chaz Bono

Cisco Adler (Link is NSFW if you scroll down far enough, but that's kind of the point of the link)

If you want to join the fun and guess at the identities of the blurred-out names on Lindsay Lohan's Sexual Conquest List, please feel free to use the until-now-under-utilized comments section below. Have fun with it!

Kesha Watch

Kesha's been out of rehab for a little over 3 weeks now and made her first post-rehab red carpet appearance Saturday night at The Humane Society of the United States 60th Anniversary Gala in Beverly Hills. She looked gorgeous, happy, and most importantly, healthy! Kesha could not have chosen a better occasion for her reemergence. She has done wonderful work as a Humane Society Ambassador and last year won the Wyler Award for increasing awareness of animal issues via the media. The Humane Society crowd will always value Kesha for her significant contributions to their cause.

I'm a fan of Kesha's and love everything about her (except the atrocious video for "Die Young"). Before her eating disorder came to light, she posted some Instagram shots of herself showing off her booty and newly-skinny physique. Rihanna set the bar on this type of gratuitous self-promotion, and at the time I thought Kesha was just trying to stay relevant in the same way. But now we know she was struggling with her body image and was starving herself so much she nearly died.

It looks like Kesha is almost back to a healthy weight, but I'm sure she will be dealing with her self-image and eating issues for years to come, if not her whole life. Eating disorders are like other addictions and must be vigilantly managed or they can creep back in and take hold again. Here's hoping that she acquired some tools to deal with this on a long-term basis, and that she continues to receive support from those close to her and from her "Animals," as she calls her fans.

Kesha says that she's working on new music, and I wonder if she will continue to work with Dr. Luke. She is only 2 albums (or 3, if you count "Animal" and "Cannibal" separately) into her reported 8-album contract with the successful producer, but is struggling to exert more creative control over her product. There is even a petition (with nearly 12,000 signatures at the time of this writing) demanding that Kesha be released from her contract with Dr. Luke. My opinion of this is conflicted, and I haven't signed the petition. On the one hand, Dr. Luke has produced 2 wonderful albums for Kesha that I love and her fans love, and I wonder if they would have been as good if Kesha got her way. But on the other hand, if Kesha is not allowed to express herself creatively in the manner she wishes, she might self-sabotage again, and her frustration might lead to the end of her career.

If Kesha's Bob Ezrin-produced contribution to the Bob Dylan tribute album, "Chimes of Freedom," is any indication of how she would express herself if freed from Dr. Luke's control, then I'm not sure she would continue to achieve mainstream success. The a capella track is an obviously-heartfelt vocal delivery of "Don't Think Twice, It's Alright," sung as a suicide note by a jilted lover. The song includes Kesha crying, and is practically unlistenable. I appreciate what she was trying to do with this stripped-down-to-the-bones rendition of a classic, but I'm sure it will be one of those tracks everyone skips over, just like any song sung by Meg White on a White Stripes album. However, this one-off song is surely an anomaly, and I bet that any non-Luke endeavor she undertakes would be as enjoyable as anything she has previously released. I mean, Kesha's the one writing those sassy lyrics and delivering them with the perfect combination of culturally-informed smart irreverence and balls-out joyful abandon, and that's what makes her fans love her. Whatever may happen with the third album, you can be sure that I will be first in line to pre-order that sucker on Amazon.

Via Ryan Seacrest

A Haiku About Robot Gaga

Eyes that follow you,
hands that could play piano,
this 'bot's the future.

"Westworld" Just Got Closer to Becoming Reality

Here is an incredible robot, I mean, animatronic sculpture created by the artist Jordan Wolfson, currently on exhibit at David Zwirner gallery in New York City. I am profoundly impressed, no, make that BLOWN AWAY, by how realistic this robot moves. The hands alone are going to haunt my nightmares for years to come.
Why can't I just enjoy the technical wonder and appreciate the possibilities of robotics? You see, I saw the movie "Westworld" when I was about 6 or 7, and it scarred me for life. Seriously, who the hell was taking care of me back then? I saw some hella scary movies before I passed second grade, like "Arnold," for one. Yul Brynner's performance in "Westworld" was so convincing to me as a child that my whole conceptualization of robots has been tainted with horror ever since.
This butterfaced robot appears to be modeled after Lady Gaga, and that makes it extra creepy! As I was watching the video of this machine gyrate and gesticulate so expressively I imagined a show in which a whole army of these things served as backup dancers for the real Gaga. Forget Hologram Tupac, Robot Gaga has just upped the ante on this game. Shit is getting turned up for real!

Via Dlisted

FanFICTION: Katy Perry, Kesha, and Rihanna Get Together for Happy Hour

It is 5 pm and Kesha and Katy Perry are at Katy's house, having waited since 4 pm for Rihanna to show up.
Katy: She is ALWAYS late!
Kesha: Did you tell her to get here at noon?
Katy: Yes!
Kesha: (looking out the window): Oh, here she is!
Katy: Finally! (throwing her front door open): Hey bitch, get your bubble butt in this house!
Rihanna: I'm coming! Jeez, no need to yell at me. I never seen traffic so thick! Not my fault this time!
Rihanna enters the house and hugs Katy, giving her left breast a squeeze.
Katy: Ooh! That's the most action I've gotten in a while!
Rihanna turns and hugs Kesha, then lowers her hand and grabs a handful of Kesha's butt.
Rihanna: Hey girlie, where's all your junk? Damn, you really got skinny. Let's get some food in you right now!
Katy: I ordered Thai, it should be here any minute. In the meantime, who wants a shot? I'm not drinking right now because I got totally bloated in Australia and I'm doing a cleanse. I can only drink water with a little lemon juice and ginger shavings in it. But I've got everything, vodka, scotch, whiskey. Kesh, do you want a shot of Goldschlager? It's your favorite....
Kesha: Dude, I just got out of rehab! Sure it was for bulimia, but while I was in there I realized that I have an unhealthy relationship with alcohol. I'm 100% sober now. It pretty much sucks, but I'm committed.
Katy: I'm so proud of you, girl! Okay, RiRi, I know you want a shot. What'll it be?
Rihanna: I can't.
Kesha and Katy (in unison): WHAT?!!
Katy: What the hell?!
Kesha: What the fuck?!
Rihanna: Don't tell anyone, but I'm pregnant.
Katy and Kesha stare at Rihanna for a moment with their mouths hanging open.
Kesha and Katy (in unison): Oh my GOD!
Rihanna: Yep.
Kesha: Now that you mention it, shit, you are glowing! It's true! Pregnant bitches glow like that.
Katy: Well, whose is it? Who's the father?
Rihanna: Well...
Kesha: Spill it!
Rihanna: Officially, it's Drake's, and he's so happy about it. But just between us: I have no friggin' clue who the daddy is. I don't even remember the first half of February, let alone every person I fucked. And you know I hate rubbers! I hate that shit!
Katy: Wow. Just.... Wow.
Rihanna: I'm trying to be good and not drink or do any drugs or smoke but I'm afraid it's too late. Before I found out I was pregnant I was doing all my usual stuff. This fetus had more drugs flow through its system in a couple of weeks than Miley Cyrus had all last year.
Katy: Not to change the subject, but we gotta talk about Miley.
Rihanna: Yes, please change the subject! What about Miley?
Kesha: What did the cracked-out chipmunk hillbilly do this time?
Katy: Did you see the footage of her kissing me at her concert a couple weeks ago? She totally tried to stick her tongue in my mouth and I swear I almost vomited on the spot. 
Rihanna: She's gross, but damn that girl can sing!
Kesha: I know, I love "Bangerz," That album is all I listened to in rehab. But, shhh, don't tell anyone!
Katy: Why does every damn girl want to kiss me? Just because I wrote a song about kissing a girl and liking it does not mean I really do! 
Rihanna: But what about all those times we made out?
Katy: I was drunk! And I was just doing that to keep Russell interested. Remember? He had a tendency to get bored and amuse himself by sticking his dick into the nearest hole he could fit into.
Kesha: But he was sweet and he really loved you, Katy. I thought you two were great together, until it went bad. Do you ever think about giving him another chance?
Katy: Sometimes I do. I'll start to think about all the fun and laughs we had and I miss him. But he's with someone now who's better for him than I ever was. I think he's really happy now and I don't want to interfere. 
Kesha: I feel like you two are souls that keep finding each other lifetime after lifetime. I don't think it will ever be truly over between you.
Katy: Well it's over in this lifetime. Let's talk about you, Kesh. Did you really drop the dollar sign from your name?
Kesha: Yeah, it was time. I think the dollar sign got me off on the wrong foot with so many people that might have really loved my music if they gave it a chance. I changed my Twitter handle too, no more Ke$haSUXXX. Now it's KeshaRose.
Rihanna: That's pretty, I like that. Is Rose your middle name?
Kesha: Yes. My mom's pretty great at naming stuff. And chasing away hot guys who want to get with me, dammit!
Katy: I love it, that's so much better. Ke$haSUXXX always bothered me. I know you were trying to own it and turn the tables on your haters. It was funny at the time, but times have changed.
Kesha and Rihanna (in unison): Yes they have.
Katy: Let's raise our glasses of water in a toast to Kesha Rose and Rihanna's baby and my fake baby in my bloated stomach.
Kesha: No I will not toast to your bloated stomach!
Rihanna: Katy, girl, you're crazy. Your stomach looks fine! Don't obsess over it.
Katy: It's hard not to when I can't fit into my clothes or any of the outfits for my show. But you're right. I've dropped weight for a tour before and I can damn well do it again!
Kesha: Now that I'll toast to!
Rihanna, Kesha, and Katy (in unison): To us!
They clink glasses and the three friends enjoy the rest of their brief time together, not knowing when they'll all be in the same city at the same time again.

This is a work of pure fiction, all content has been fabricated by the imagination of Edy O. Syncratic.

Ghost Cat, Part I

Image: sparkyspitfire.wordpress.com

I'm new at living with cats. Before I moved in with my boyfriend, I was allergic to them, just like my mother. My mother always had dogs when I was growing up, and I loved every one of them. In fact, before I met my boyfriend my mom's current dog was my best friend. I was so into that dog that I couldn't bear to have her eat regular dog food and made her fresh meals with organic meat.
That all changed when I moved in with Miguel. He has a stand-offish but beautiful tortoiseshell cat, Razzy, who eventually took to me and me to her. I quickly became Razzy's favorite piece of furniture and preferred sleeping spot. It felt like a triumph to have finally won the affection of this animal, much like I had eventually won over her owner. And before long my cat allergy seemed to go away. I guess Razzy innoculated me with her little love bites and cat-claw accupunture until my system became inured to her particular brand of allergen.

I grew to love Razzy so much that I didn't care when she scratched me and literally gave me cat scratch fever. I'm not sure what happened because I was asleep. I know that seems unlikely, how could I sleep through a cat scratching me? Honestly, I don't know! I'm a very light sleeper, I practically have an insomnia disorder. It was a really gnarly, ugly scratch too. About 8"-9" long and all red with blood and instant infection. It was on the soft skin on the inside of my forearm, starting just above my wrist and ending almost at my elbow bend.  

At the time I worked a hideously early shift at a call center and got up at 2:45 am, giving me 15 minutes to get dressed in the dark and brush my teeth, before leaving for my half-hour commute to my 3:30 am shift. I didn't even notice the scratch until I got to work and went to the bathroom. I pulled the sleeve of my sweater up to wash my hands and I caught sight of it in the mirror over the sink. I could hardly believe my eyes. It didn't hurt that much but it was really ugly. I ended up getting swollen lymph nodes and a persistent fever and had to take antibiotics. Miguel theorized that Razzy was sleeping on me and got startled, suddenly pushing off me with her hind legs and accidentally scratching me with a rear paw.

Razzy

Anyway, the name of this story is Ghost Cat, so let's get to the ghost part. I should explain that, as much as I love ghost stories, I'm not sure I believe in ghosts. I've never seen a ghost or even felt like I've been in the same room with one. Well, except for one time I think I may have heard a ghost in my friend Amber's house. Amber and her roommate had been telling me about weird, spooky stuff happening in their home that seemed to be centered around the threshold between the kitchen and living room. Weird stuff like pictures falling off the walls, items spontaneously falling from shelves, unexplained banging sounds and becoming overcome by feelings of dread and doom when passing through that area. I did not disbelieve these stories, but I had not seen or felt anything like that in their home or anywhere, ever. I considered myself to be insensitive to the spirit world. I figured, if there's ghost-whisperer spectrum then I fall on the end opposite from Jennifer Love Hewitt and the "I see dead people" kid. 

Then one evening I was at Amber's house and we were talking in the kitchen. Amber and her roommate moved into the living room and I followed them, stopping for a moment in the "haunted" threshold. All of a sudden I became aware that I was hearing the buzz of conversation in the kitchen behind me. It sounded like there were many people talking, like at a news office or a party, and it seemed that I had been hearing this sound unconsciously at a low level for a while. And then as soon as I took notice of the sound and glanced over my shoulder, it stopped. I looked back at Amber and her roommate with a confused look, and then my eyes got wide with fright and Amber asked, "You heard something, didn't you?" I just nodded and hurried into the living room with cold tingles running up my spine. I couldn't speak for about at least a minute, I was so rattled by the experience. Amber later told me that after her roommate moved out the ghost problems stopped.

Years later I moved into Miguel's home, became a fervid feline aficionado, and started encountering what I can only explain as a ghost cat. This started almost right away after I moved in, and although I had been hanging out at Miguel's house and spending the night with him a lot over the previous 3 years, I didn't experience it until I lived here. I took over the room previously occupied by Miguel's former roommate, and turned it into my "sanctuary"/closet/moving box waystation. From time to time while in this room I would hear a cat meowing, but I couldn't tell exactly where the sound was coming from. When I would go and look for the cat, at first assuming it was Razzy, I could never find it. However, I would often find Razzy sound asleep and obviously not having just meowed. After a short time I came to recognize all variations of Razzy's meow, and I could tell it was not her making this meowing sound.
This kept happening, but so infrequently that I forgot about it between instances. The only explanation I could conceive of for the mysterious meowing was that it was a feral cat outside who ran away when it heard me coming. But if that was the case, why had I never even caught a glimpse of a cat running away, not even the tip of a tail?

I started to think I was going crazy, and then one day Miguel heard it too.

To be continued....

A Haiku About British People Wearing Scarves

Brits were wearing scarves
long before Burberry, and
before Shakespeare's time

The Little Kid From "Love Actually" Is 23

Look at that face! He hasn't aged a day, he just got stretched out. Like Stretch Armstrong, or one of those poor medieval dudes on a rack.

British people sure know how to wear the fuck out of scarves, don't they? No one rocks a woolen muffler like a Brit. Young, old, male, female, chimney sweep, or doctor, they all look fantastic in their scarves! I'll just never get the hang of the nonchalant scarf, with my damn Scottish genes. I look pretty good in a tam, though!

It's Nice to See That Rhythmic Gymnastics Is Alive and Well

If I were Jon Stewart, or even Craig Kilborn, and if this were "The Daily Show," I would call this our moment of zen.

Post by พงษ์ทอง ตั้งวณิชเศรษฐ์.

Girl, You Gotta Watch "Girls"

I remember when the series "Girls," was first getting buzz, right before it premiered on HBO, and Lena Dunham was being referred to as "the female slacker." I thought to myself, finally there may be a TV character I could truly relate to! I fully embraced the whole Gen-X identity in my 20's and had ambitions to be one of those quirky, slacker types that one finds in abundance here in Portland. My reasons for this were complicated and idiosyncratic, and I won't get into them here, but suffice it to say that I was born disillusioned and learned to expect catastrophic doom. I considered it a fruitless waste of time to seriously pursue professional ambitions, because life was too short and time too precious and there was so much fun to be had.

When "Girls" premiered in 2012, my home did not have cable TV. So I contented myself with reading about the series, and was amused at the variety of reactions and criticism it received. I'm not that interested in how Lena Dunham personally behaves in a public forum, her Tweets and interviews and such. There's a lot there and she's become a somewhat controversial celebrity. Her Vogue cover sent the Jezebel staff into a quasi-feminist fury, which was fun to observe in a schadenfreude sorta way. [Note: that is the first time I have ever used the word "schadenfreude" in either writing or conversation!]
I just care about Lena's work and her contribution to our culture, and it's not like she molested a kid for fuck's sake! She's in her 20's and is figuring it all out and making missteps and learning from them. Just like everyone else, but with the whole world watching. It's hard to name a comedian who hasn't offended large sections of the population at one point or another, except lame ones like Jay Leno. The trick is not to crash and burn, and I don't see this happening to Lena Dunham.

Recently one of my friends told me I should watch "Girls" because she knew I would love it. Then another friend told me that she had just started watching "Girls" and that the Lena Dunham character, Hannah, reminded her so much of me. So I decided that, since I now had cable TV and HBO, I would watch the show. I had been meaning to watch it eventually anyway, but first I had to watch "True Blood" and "Big Love." Both of which I loved and mildly obsessed over.

Okay, so I've been watching "Girls" and am just a couple episodes into the second season. And yes, I love it! I love it because it never fails to make me uncomfortable and squirmy, and because I always gut-laugh at least once per episode. I love how Lena gets naked all the time, the way she unselfconsciously tears off her shirt at the drop of a hat. I think this is good for the culture. I think it's great to see an imperfect woman OWN IT. I am sick to death of the American beauty standard, it has crippled 3 generations of women into self-loathing and self-imposed starvation. No wonder there's so many stupid bitches out there, they are HUNGRY. So many women have been like this since kids, withholding the nutrition their developing brains needed, stunting their intellectual growth and causing them to become stupid adults. This is just my own personal theory, which should be taken with a shaker of salt because I also believe that humans originally derived from extraterrestrial beings who visited Earth and had a sexy good time with some apes.

"Girls" is not without problems. I find the story lines to be often formulaic and the characters' motives to be unrealistic. Here's how it goes: one of the girls encounters a big life problem, such as losing their job. Then someone gives the girl some outrageous advice that goes against the better judgement of the girl, such as, abandon your field of choice and pursue a different career. Without any self-reflection or trust in their own perceptions, they follow the outrageous advise and make ridiculous and sometimes devastating mistakes. This is how Hannah ends up trying to seduce her elderly boss, how Marnie finds herself working as an eye-candy hostess at a men's club, and Jessa marries someone completely wrong for her. So far, Shoshonna hasn't taken any bad advice to heart, but I'm sure it's coming.

Surprisingly, and to Lena Dunham's credit, the male characters in "Girls" are nuanced and a healthy mix of lovable and asshole, just like the girls. I'm obsessed with the Adam character, he is the type of guy I would have "chased like... the fucking Beatles" when I was in my 20's. Tall, dark, and defiantly weird, anyone who knows Edy O. knows that's my type in spades. And I'm starting to really like Ray, the older loser asshole who I suspect is a diamond in the rough, who falls for the sparkly Shoshonna. When he finally cracks and shows his vulnerability, it's a loving moment set in a grimy subway station, and simply beautiful.

Lena Dunham's show is about being a 20-something woman and trying to figure it all out while making missteps and learning from them. Kinda like real life. I'm a couple of decades past my 20's but I only remember taking my own bad advice and not learning much from it. I would say this is because I am a true female slacker, while the characters that live in the world of "Girls" are anything but. Hannah may have come off as a slacker in the first episode because she had been enjoying life on her parents' dime, but when they cut her off she reluctantly made do, later refusing her mother's offer of financial help out of pride. This is not something a slacker does. Mom, if you're reading this, I need to borrow money! A lot of money!

My friends were right, Hannah reminds me of me, except I have obnoxiously huge boobs and can't just trade shirts with some random guy at a club. The scene in which Adam makes Hannah go jogging and she ends up collapsing in the middle of the street was a page ripped straight from my yearbook and I have been known to eat Cool Whip from the tub with a spoon. Luckily for me I lived through my 20's in relative obscurity because I surely would have failed to pass the judgement of the critical masses.

Forget "Throwback Thursday"! Welcome to "Feline Friday"!

LP here. While Edy is taking her weekly shower I'll be at the helm. Allow me to take this opportunity to introduce myself to you properly. First of all, only Edy is allowed to call me Lil' Poops. Everyone else, including you, may address me as LP.

You have to understand something about Edy. Lately she has been floundering around in life searching for some sort of direction, while all the road signs have been pointing her in the direction of writing. I finally had to sit her down the other day and tell her to snap out of her daze and start getting serious about a career. I can only bring in so much as a cam-cat, and organic catnip is not cheap!

I will not be allowing her to blog today until she has considered her topic carefully and submits to me an acceptable draft. She's very excited about the big Kesha news, but I don't want her to publish a post and then keep editing it and tinkering with it until she gets it right.

Incidentally, the photo of me that appears above is from my childhood. I was just a wee kitten of 3 months old, and that was when I first fell in love with O HOLY LAPTOP. I'm much more mature now.

FanFICTION: Katy Perry Gets a Call From Ke$ha In Rehab

Katy: Hello girlfriend, I miss you!
Kesha: Where are you right now?
Katy: I'm in Australia, mate! Actually, it blows. This whole trip has sucked balls. All I want is to go home, crawl under the covers with my body pillow, and cry till my eye sockets turn inside out!
Kesha: Katy, you gotta get me outta here! My mom is driving me crazy. I thought it was a good idea for her to come to rehab, but I was so wrong! SO wrong!
Katy: Stick it out and just focus on yourself. Remember that yoga position I showed you at Coachella a couple years ago? That's a good one for internal contemplation. John and I used to do it together as part of our tantric thing... (bursts into tears).
Kesha: Oh no, what happened? Why are you crying?
Katy: I broke up with John, for good this time. I realized that I was in a panic about going on tour and leaving him alone, I didn't trust him not to cheat on me! I will never be able to trust him and I'm afraid I'll never be able to find a guy I can trust!
Kesha: Not all guys are like John and Russell, Katy!
Katy: I hope not. For now I don't even want to think about love or sex or guys. I have to get serious about work. I've been getting effed-up every night and then binge-eating like crazy while I'm blacked out! Krispy Kreme, Ben & Jerry's, sushi off naked guys, Domino's!
Kesha: Shut! Up!
Katy: This morning I woke up and had caramel corn stuck in my hair.
Kesha: Shut up! Don't talk about food! I hate food!
Katy: So do I! I can't fit into any of my clothes and I had to wear a big coat on Australian TV! 
Kesha: Why does life have to be like this?! I just want to be myself and sing my songs the way I hear them in my head.
Katy: Don't worry, one day we'll be the ones in charge. 
Kesha: You always know how to make me feel better.
Katy: I'll always be here for you.
Kesha and Katy (in unison): We'll get through this!

This is a work of pure fiction, all content has been fabricated by the imagination of Edy O. Syncratic.

Introducing my cat and editor, Lil' Poops

This is my cat, LP or Lil' Poops. She had the day off yesterday, otherwise she never would have let me publish that drivel about Justin Bieber's tattoos. Never fear, she is back at her desk today and has vowed to be more vigilant in her pursuit of keeping this blog most excellent.

A haiku poem about Justin Bieber's tattoos

One nine seven five
Rub the genie's lamp, and then
pray with Leg Jesus

A Reluctant Tour of Bieber's Ink

When Justin Bieber was arrested in Miami back in January for drag racing in the street while drunk and/or high on codeine, his many tattoos were photo-catalogued by the Miami-Dade county police as part of booking him into jail. Today those photos were publicly released, along with video of his booking process. All the headlines are screaming about the video showing Bieber peeing out his urine sample. Uh, GROSS! No one needs to see that! I didn't even need to know about that, so why are we even talking about it? I hope that no important news broadcast or interview with a congressperson was interrupted to bring us this story today!

However, the Miami police have finally afforded us a chance to see the permanent results of some of Bieber's poor decision-making, indelibly etched onto his skin. Let's take a gander, shall we?

Photos: Reuters

First we have a pic of him in his little street racer outfit. 

This kid is really rocking the Dorf look, what a style icon!

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Here is where he professes his medieval-style "LOVE" or "ZOUF" for an alien in a jester hat. From the looks of these tats, Biebs is getting his tweener-age fangirls drunk on sizzurp them making them give him tattoos in exchange for 7 Minutes In Heaven. 

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Here's poor Jesus, rolling his eyes in exasperation upon finding himself in yet another predicament, and seeing only Canadian ass for miles.

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Here Justin has memorialized the spot where Usher first gently kissed him while saying, "I'ma make you my little star."

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Fortunately I remember some of my schoolin', so I can translate this: 1975, presumably the year. I'm sure there's thousands of teenage girls who know the particular significance of this year to Justin, either by reading Tiger Beat or through some sort of Millennial Generation collective unconscious mind-meld. Me, I'm going to have to take a shot in the dark. Let's see... a quick Google search of notable events in 1975 has yielded some possibilities:

-The first episode of "Saturday Night Live" aired October 11, 1975.

-Teamsters president Jimmy Hoffa was reported missing in Detroit July 30, 1975. 

[Edy's note: Although I was living in Detroit during the summer of '75, I have an iron-clad alibi and am in no way connected to Mr. Hoffa's disappearance.]

-Volkswagen introduced the Golf in the US and Canada as the Rabbit in January of 1975.

-The "Thrilla in Manila" took place on October 1, 1975.

-The TV series "Kung Fu" aired its final episode in April of 1975.  [I'm betting on this one.]

-Thanks, Wikipedia

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WTF?? Please explain to me how a stoner white kid that tosses eggs at his neighbor's mansion and speeds around his neighborhood in his ridiculous hot rod with the crotch of his pants around his knees has ANY connection to a proud Indian brave! I will give Bieber the benefit of the doubt and assume this image symbolizes for him the type of integrity to which he aspires, because the kid is a million miles away from it at this point. Keep Bieliebing in yourself, though! 

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Your guess here is as good as mine. Maybe a genie's lamp? 

I know, when he's in the closet with his tweener fangirls, (at about the 4th minute of 7 in heaven), he probably pulls down his waistband, flashes this fine tattoo and says,  "Rub the genie's lamp and you'll get your wish.... No, rub a little lower... Lower... More to the right... Lower, and... that's it!  Keep rubbing. Oh yeah... That was your wish, right?!"

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On his bicep there's a tiger that is either missing an eye or is blind like blind master Po in "Kung Fu." See? Another "Kung Fu" reference! Below the tiger appears a disembodied eye. Is that supposed to be the tiger's missing eye? I'm getting confused!

If I thought Justin was smart enough to solve rebus puzzles, I would say that the word "Believe" under the disembodied, maybe-tiger's eye means "I Believe," but that's probably giving him far too much credit. Let's call it a happy accident. 

I really can't make out the image under that, maybe a depiction of one of The Canterbury Tales? Oh, I give up! It is not for me to understand the journey upon which Justin Bieber is taking his skin. All I can do is mock it in the best way I know how.

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And thus concludes our tour of Justin Bieber's tattoos, and my debut blog post! I am truly proud. First I'd like to thank the Miami-Dade county police department for giving me the inspirational images I needed to finally get off my proverbial duff and start blogging. And to you, readers:  buckle up, this ride is just beginning! And I ain't talking about Space Mountain (which first opened at Walt Disney World in 1975)!!

Love,

Edy