Archive for dictionary

Alpha the Fiend

Posted in Alphabetfiend, Books & Writing, Style & Fashion, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 9, 2010 by alphabetfiend

I’ve been too busy actually celebrating my birthday to post my fastasy gifts for the Cream Scene Carnival alter-egos. Alas, I’m still in the mood to play so I’m gonna keep posting these suckers ’til I’m done, here and there so as not to bore my kinksters to death. But stay with me, kids, cause where gonna ask the question: Can dresses & dictionaries be sexy? Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. You’ll see.

How to spoil an Alphabetfiend? With books, of course!!

Did you know a dictionary could be sexy? Alpha did! Alpha’s been lusting after these glamorous dictionaries for some time now. They’re pricey but bound in colorful or metallic leathers. The silver dictionary (with Alphabetfiend monogram) is gonna look gorgeous on the fiend’s bedside table, close at hand and crossword ready. (Available at ballard designs for the SmartyPants in your life.)  

What is Alphabet a fiend for?

Just look to your keyboard for inspiration!

I know! Sweet little post earrings made from vintage typewriter keys! The perfect way to woo an Alphabetfiend. (Tab Typewriter Key Jewelry)

Alphabetfiend is the queen of the ampersand-riddled run-on sentence cause her mind moves fast and she always has more & more & more to say… which makes this ampersand brooch a fitting gift. (Another Empire)

How ’bout these socks by Ken Macy that celebrate the old-school joys of writing… cracking open a composition book and inhaling the smell of glue from the binding mmmm…. a stack of pure clean paper that is begging for ink… a fistful of just-sharpened pencils.

Evokes the giddy excitement like from a fresh stack of notebook paper...mmm

 Who doesn’t love snail-mail? Alpha loves loves loves snail-mail. Alpha still buys stamps. Alpha still writes love letters and valentines. Not just to lovers either (though an Alpha lover is a lucky fucker.) This air-mail envelope is actually a purse by Paper Plane.

Typewriter earrings, envelope clutch & ampersand brooch — witty accessories for the smart-dressed girl that could be worn with either of these dresses by Maeve (available at Anthropology.)

To those of you who are yawning, thinking “Clothes? Again? Is there anything more boring?” I must say, “Yes, there are many things more boring than my aesthetic fantasies.” Still, if you’re feeling antsy, then go ahead and imagine these dresses in compromising positions. You may include, in your lurid visions, the literary crush of your choice. Strip these dresses from her fluttery body all lit-up by the library’s milk-glass lamp-light. Let your hand creep past that creamy hem, past black lacy garters and up and up and she opens like a book, being the bookish sort. Maybe you prefer the red shirt-dress, a-blossom with a smattering of wild roses. You bend her over your poem-strewn desk and you smack her bare bottom. More. More. When her ass is as rosy as her dress you take her from behind and frock the frocking fuck right outta her.

You may defile these dresses in all manner of nasty ways but you MAY NOT piss all over them and make her wear the piss-soaked dress to a truck stop because neither of these dresses are THAT dress. If you are curious about that dress or if you still don’t see how dresses can be sexy than check out this pervy post by “A Funny Dominatrix” but NOT NOW, NOT YET, not until I say…. oooooookay…. GO.

Goof speed, kinksters.

Happy Birthday, Alphabetfiend. Good night. Sweet dreams.

Silverman Gives the Word “Diva” a XXX Smackdown (adult content)

Posted in Fame & Celebrity, Fur Reals, I Heart Funny Femmes with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on May 29, 2010 by alphabetfiend

 

Fine. Wave off yer ignorance with a flick of your plastic talons.

Cause you gotta have yer way cause yer a diva. 

Well, bitch, then you had better be able to belt out an aria.

 

Luckily, I’m no longer alone in my aggravation cause once again Sarah Silverman says what we’re all thinking. This time, in song. 

If you call yourself a diva, you better be a singer, and not somebody cutting me in line. 

If you call yourself a diva, you better sing a solo, and not be someone treating me unkind.

I kinda wanna purchase that patch — “Crossword Diva League” — cause it’s cool enough with the curvy lady and the old skool look. I kinda wanna stitch it on my engineers cap cause I love crossword puzzles and I want the world to know it. However, I don’t want the world to think I’m a stupid bitch. And so you see my dilemma. No self-respecting crossword freakette could call herself a diva, not when she’s faced twice daily with the word’s true meaning. When the clue involves the word “diva” then the answer always has to do with opera and never with self-entitled bitchery.
Look up “diva” in the dictionary. The word applies to female operatic stars or (more recently) it extends to distinguished female singers who are long time legendary power houses like Aretha Franklin or Diana Ross. Sure there’s the prima donna addendum but who wants that? Who wants to be a mere pain-in-the-ass post-script?
Down with those bitches who call themselves Divas — excusing a lack of manners with a word that is supposed to denote a presence of talent.

Wearing leopard print does not make you a diva.

Neither does your rhinestone-crusted blackberry.

And that glitter graphic on your myspace page? Gulp. Please no! Not another one!

What does make you a diva?

Well, do you have an absolutely legendary ability to sing your fucking ass off? Have you taken a bow as the curtain closed at the Met? Does the crowd roar and send thorny roses hurling to the stage like arrows shot from Eros’ bow?

No? Then you’re no diva. 

 

Now this fabulous bitch, she’s a damn diva. (Yes, that’s right. Divas can be bitches but bitches aren’t divas.)

People are always shining me on with the word “Diva” (as a compliment or as an explanation for my tiara) but I don’t take a shine to it. I sing in the car, with the top down and the volume up, and I sing loud. But I’m not the fat lady y’all are waiting on.

Sing it, Sarah!

If you call yourself a diva, it better be for reals, and not just some sad pathetic kind of front.

You’re selfish and your thoughtless and you’re broken and you’re heartless.

You’re probably not a diva, you’re a cunt.

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