Hey you know what’s cool? Denim. I’m j/k if denim was a person it would be a racist Southern white guy at a Linkin Park concert, groping your side leg as you walked by in a denim mini skirt. It’s your fault for wearing a denim mini skirt, right?
I know I’m part of the 99.99% of the population that doesn’t wear jeans, but I’m going to come out and say it, no one should wear denim. ever.
Reese Witherspoon’s Arrest Video
First I was thinking this is so tradge that it’s not tradge. But then it got slightly more tradgier swinging it back into the tradge zone.
People keep saying she’s Elle Woods IRL but I think she’s more Tracy Flick from Election or maybe Anne Hathaway in the movie that plays in her head every second of every day.
But the tradge part isn’t that she’s tradge, it’s that she knew it would be on the “National News” and it is and it’s our faults but we can’t help ourselves its sooooooooooooo good.
No offense Adidas and I’ma let you finish but… camo-toe basketball shorts… Why. No, don’t tell me. SHOW me.
Art Pics of Coffee
It’s bad enough we pay through the nose for America’s favorite caffeine, which drips just fine at 20 cents a gallon at home. But your Instagram crema fetish is how do you say… tradgé.
“Fashion” Cargo Pants.
AKA “Trying too hard,” AKA “I still rave and call it ‘raving’ even though it’s 2013 and the rest of the world has moved on.”
OK, leftover fast food in general is kind of tradge. Leftover deep-fried chickpeas is really tradge, because it’s next-level undelicious. Also included: leftover french fries and rice cakes.
Our featured video is a reverse-tradge. You see, I image-searched “leftover falafel” and got this skate video back in the first result. It’s really good. Shred your Mondays, everyone.
Saint Patrick’s Day.
We’re not celebrating The Green Hangover. SPD terrorizes those of us neighboring the parade-pub-chorus-of-projectile-vomit zones on the East Coast. So not only is SPD tradge, it’s a damned nuisance.
I mean, as a raging alcoholic I believe revelry is great, and big up Catholic pantheism, but (and with all due respect to the Irish, who can do so much better than commemorate a snake-beater by polka dotting midtown manhattan with vomit) c’mon! Stick to “Kiss me I’m Irish.” The whole drunk miscreant angle is just (WAIT for it)…
PS: Yes tradge-dot-com went on a little break. Surprise, we’re back!
Tradge: Amazing penis-shaped cookies are one thing. One amazing thing. This advert staging of the cookies with black Barbie and Ken dolls though, is PRICELESS.
[In fairness the snacks come from Okinawa so the implication, I’m sure, is that those are darker-skinned ryuku natives.
When you think about the 80s and why people wore mullets, shoulder pads and visible diagonal blush in disgust while putting your hair in a high bun and throwing your parliament lights into your Alexander Wang rose gold Rocco duffle, the universe barfs on its own back.
If you care about fashion, but only fashion that’s reached the Midwest within the last six months, put your hair in a high bun.
Our Party Snacks
Are we hosting a ten year old’s birthday party of office gathering in Scranton, Pennsylvania?
No, we just felt like saving on food and splurging on 4 bottles of top shelf liquor and magnums of champagne. Ballers.
The only men that buy these things are the 40 year olds who live with their parents and skateboard to their parole hearings is what I think every time I go into the men’s toiletry section. Every product looks either like the piece that activates a Transformer when placed under a lambo or a light saber stub.
Am I supposed to feel like I’m waiting in line for a club on the Jersey Shore when standing in the body wash aisle? I’m pretty sure I heard an Axe deodorant whisper “I’d do her” to his friends once. I guess I’m in luck. Every bottle is shaped like the inside of my hand when it’s gripping something.
Dave & Busters.
Chuck E. Cheese is a faraway nightmare for some of us, so seeing grownups enjoy the adult version of it is kind of like being forced to confront a child molester in an X-rated arcade that serves Midori Sours and pitchers of Bud Light, which… is Dave & Busters.
If you do end up there, skip the cocktail, pound a shot of Purell and consider wearing a condom into the ball pit. A female condom.
In keeping with “Over-pronouncing Foreign Words” we want to dedicate this post to the country of France as depicted and adored by America. (Mind the air-quotes around the word “France”)
I just saw Hugo (yes I realize it came out a year ago). Don’t bother if you haven’t. It’s basically a mashup of Oliver Twist and Amélie; a self-fulfilling acceptance speech for The Academy’s Lifetime Achievement Award, set in Paris and directed by Martin Scorsese, whom I generally find faultless, but must have been freebasing some crack he found in a Montreal dumpster when he signed on to this.
I like croissants and anemic children dressed like Depression Era hobos as much as the next person but let’s not forget contemporary France is responsible for Le Front National, Gerard Depardieu and putting butter and/or potatoes in everything (including Gerard Depardieu and Le front National).