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'Nasty Woman' perfume sends proceeds to Planned Parenthood and Emily's List

Gavia Baker-Whitelaw —
Oct 21 at 11:55AM | Last updated Oct 21 at 11:55AM

Donald Trump's "nasty woman" comment was one of the most memorable moments of the third presidential debate, inspiring people to stream Janet Jackson's "Nasty" in droves, create parody websites, and generally meme the heck out of that phrase.

And now, you can smell like a Nasty Woman as well.

Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, a company that makes limited edition perfumes inspired by cult movies and books like Hellboy and Sherlock Holmes, just announced a Nasty Woman perfume. Its scent is a combination of "black fig and patchouli, filthy bourbon vanilla, honeyed amber oud, and loukhoum."

Retailing at $24, the Nasty Woman perfume will split its proceeds between Planned Parenthood and the pro-choice campaign organization Emily's List.
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So, You Must Talk to the Woman Who Is Wearing Headphones
Alexandra Petri writes the ComPost blog, offering a lighter take on the news and opinions of the day. She is the author of "A Field Guide to Awkward Silences."
Follow @petridishes

Some articles seem like they’re trying too hard to be parodied. Dan Bacon’s “How to Talk to a Woman Who is Wearing Headphones” on is one of them. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a woman in headphones is NOT in want of a conversation — least of all with the kind of guy tone-deaf enough to take his cue from an article called “How to Talk to a Woman Who is Wearing Headphones” from The Modern

When a fish swims up to you with a barrel and rifle already attached, sometimes it almost feels wrong to go out of your way to shoot it. Nonetheless:

So it has come to this.
You must speak to the woman who is wearing headphones.
I am so, so sorry.
You must pray that she is single and looking and will wish to hear your words.
It is not enough for her to be single
She must also be looking, or there is no hope for you.

But you already know this.
You have seen what happened to the other men who tried to speak.
The whole Panera is littered with what remains of the men who came before you.
They tried to speak to the Woman Who Is Wearing Headphones.
They failed.
Remember the training and you may yet survive.
Remember what they told you.
You must be confident, relaxed and easygoing.
You must show no fear.
If you show fear, she will strike.
Speak calmly, they said.
Show confidence.
Do not blink.
If you blink, she will know.
If you blink, she will move from 1 to 1.5 meters away to much closer, so close that you can hear the whisper of what is in her headphones.
That is much too close.

You have no choice.
These are your instructions.

You can talk to anyone, you tell yourself.
It is only a woman, you tell yourself.
But you know that it is not.
Women were something different.
Your comrade made the awful mistake of talking to the Woman Who Is Reading A Book On The Subway. You watched it happen.
He made her look up from the book and her basilisk eyes fell on him, unblinking, and he melted.
You still remember the screams.
They were so horrible that the city lay awake for days trying to forget them.
You do not know how it happened.
But the women who stood there politely and were receptacles for your words are gone.
They once smiled politely and they laughed even and sometimes they would make a spark with you.
But something changed in the air or perhaps the water and the women do not stand there and listen any longer.
The city is full of men who have been turned to stone.
You opened the door to your neighbor’s apartment and there was a startled deer standing inside wearing a college sweatshirt. You think it used to be your neighbor but you are not certain.
You have changed your route to work so that you do not have to pass the stone men with their open, screaming mouths.
Yesterday half your comrades were ordered to shout “Smile!” at the Woman Who Is Walking.
And the woman did. Too wide.
So wide that her mouth engulfed the street and became a vast cavern.
Six of your friends were devoured.
You could hear the unladylike slurping sounds from blocks away as you beat a hasty retreat between the Scylla of the Woman Who Has Put Her Bag Next To Her On A Bar Stool and the Charybdis of the Woman Who Is Just Jogging.
You did not attempt to speak to either of them.
They passed you.
You were left unscathed.

But that was before they came to your apartment and gave you the orders.

So here you are.
It has come to this.

You are about to talk to the Woman in Headphones.
My God, I pity you.
You are close now. Almost in range.
Before The Woman and behind her the ground is littered with shoes and hats and pick-up manuals and AXE body spray.
She sits patiently gnawing on a thigh bone.
You do not think she is single or looking.
You cannot make out the words she is listening to.

You know how this will go.
You know what the headphones mean.
You know what will happen when you ask her to remove the headphones.
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The modern adventures of Han and Kylo.

"Don't open it, Leia" DYING I AM DYING AND DED
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This will always be reposted

The world has been made safe now
From oceans to mountains so steep
It's time to put down your shield, captain
And go the fuck to sleep.

The hammers are all sitting still now
The bilchsteim as docile as sheep
I don't care that it's daytime in Asgard
This is Earth, and we fucking sleep.

The spiders are safe in their webs now
Their bites will make no one else weep
This is your official downtime, agent
Use it to fucking sleep.

The bows have all been unstrung now
The arrows have made their last leap
I don't care whose room you nest in
Just go the fuck to sleep.

The formulas have all been proven now
The scanners are doing their sweep
You know what I hear helps when you're angry?
Going the fuck to sleep.

No more AIs hacking my system now
No more damn machines that go beep
So put down that soldering iron
You can dream up reactors while you sleep.

Yes, seventy years is a long time
To be dozing way down in the deep
But I know you're tired, stop lying
And go the fuck to sleep.

The astrophysicists are stargazing
Or would be, if their attention you didn't keep
Who even taught you about skype sex
Wait, I don't care, just sleep.

Tomorrow you can work on your ledger
Tomorrow through corridors you'll creep
But tonight I really don't need you
Get the fuck off the bridge and sleep.

The hawks tuck under their wings now
The little chicks no longer cheep
You want me to stop making bird puns?
Go the fuck to sleep.

The monitors dim their glow now
And the data is all in a heap
Yes, fine, we'll move a cot to the lab
If you promise to just fucking sleep.

The helicarrier moves quietly now
And aboard there's not even a peep
Oh shit, what the fuck, Stark
Get back to your room and sleep!


Dec. 14th, 2015 03:10 pm
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The artist has been kind enough to put his art up as photos so that it can be printed and then colored in.

Coloring books for grown-ups, indeed!
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HM Queen Elizabeth II cracks up as she realizes the man in the uniform is actually her husband of 68 years, Prince Philip.

I love this picture. Love it.
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11/2 Today Goofus the Peacock killed a mouse and instead of eating it right away, decided to wander around the pasture carrying it in his beak. The feral cats always appreciate dead-rodent-based performance art, so they followed behind Goofus single file to make a Very Exciting Dead Rodent Parade.

At one point Goofus stopped and put down his rodent and one of the feral cats dared to sniff at it, and Goofus unleashed The Most Terrifying Honk, something along the lines of I WILL END YOU AND EVERYONE YOU LOVE AND YOUR BONES WILL BE FORGOTTEN ON THE FROZEN EARTH WHEN I SNUFF OUT THE SUN AND SING THE STARS TO DARKNESS I AM THE DEVOURER AND DESTROYER OF ALL THINGS

The feral cats, previously unaware that the Death Of The Universe And End Of All Things is currently living as a peacock, ran off at about fifty miles an hour and hid under the barn for the rest of the day. They didn’t even come out at milking time to beg for goat milk, which is a first.

We probably should not have named the Death Of The Universe And The End Of All Things “Goofus,” actually.


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