Luana Suicide in Baby Blues

• INTO: Dancing around my house in my undies.
• NOT INTO: Ignorant people.
• MAKES ME HAPPY: My dog Kingston, good food, great company.
• MAKES ME SAD: Judgment.
• HOBBIES: Reading, laying in the sun with my fruity drink, sketching, Mario Kart Wii, eating, good sex.
• 5 THINGS I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT: Music, Chapstick, a pen, laughter, sex.
• VICES: Weeeeeeeeed.
• I SPEND MOST OF MY FREE TIME: Eating, playing with my puppy, reading, watching good movies, cooking, being with family/friends.

Get to know Luana better over at SuicideGirls.com!

by Blogbot

Here’s a selection of the best Sexy Santa fashions that naughty and nice Suicide Girls will be putting on — and taking off – this year.

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by Brett Warner

It’s 9:33 PM at the Detroiter Truck Stop in Woodhaven, Michigan and I’m inadvertently playing Duran Duran for the black metal band Goatwhore. Standing bored behind the gift shop checkout counter half an hour before closing time, I had plugged my iPod into the small external laptop speaker display model sitting quietly to my right, humming along to the first couple tunes on 1993’s The Wedding Album. Halfway through Warren Cuccurullo’s guitar solo on “Ordinary World”, I look up to see four very big, very pierced and very tattooed gentlemen standing directly across from me, waiting to purchase a few pairs of winter gloves. Recognizing their spooky font logo, I proclaim in the manliest voice I can muster how my old roommate was a big time fan. It’s too late, though – my metal cred is gone forever. I’ve been outed.

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by Nicole Powers

“It’s an absolutely fucking crazy story.”
– Jaimie D’Cruz

Exit Through the Gift Shop is a film that defies explanation, and one’s ability to suspend disbelief. Indeed the plot would be utterly ridiculous, if it weren’t for the fact that it’s true.

It started out life as a simple documentary about street art as seen through the lens of Thierry Guetta, a French national living in Los Angeles. Thanks to a family connection, and his infectious and perpetuity ebullient personality, Guetta gained unparalleled access to the major players in the scene, who are a notoriously secretive and hard to track down bunch by necessity due to the predominantly illicit nature of their work. Guetta’s extreme enthusiasm for the form, and his zealous pursuit of its practitioners, ultimately led him to the scene’s holy grail, Banksy, an elusive British street art superstar.

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Wit Suicide in Pure Imagination

• INTO: I like to go on adventures. I recently went to the rain forests of Belize. I love scuba diving. I’m a complete nerd for biology. I’m in love with my hammock and Harry Potter. I love food and to cook.
• NOT INTO: Roaches, clowns, feet, and dope addicts.
• MAKES ME HAPPY: Being with friends and loved ones.
• MAKES ME SAD: Rejection.
• HOBBIES: Scuba, reading, video games, and tokin’.
• 5 THINGS I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT: Cell (it sucks), cigarettes (though I’m “quitting”), eyeliner (a girls gotta look good), my hammock, my friends.
• VICES: I don’t always think before I speak, which results in me being loud and very blunt. Also I tend to go on rants about the biological correctness of statements – my friends hate it!
• SPEND MOST OF MY FREE TIME: Workin’, schoolin’, tokin’, sleepin’.

Get to know Wit better over at SuicideGirls.com!

by Jensen

Hey guys! Super easy tutorial this week for a string covered bulletin board. This is a really inexpensive and a nice way to show off cards, postcards, notes, whatevz. I almost feel silly making a tutorial for this, since all you do is wrap a fuck ton of string around a frame, but I’m doing it anyway!

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by Laurelin

The word “zing” is not in my vocabulary. I don’t remember ever having said it, nor have I ever heard it used in everyday conversation. However, I’m pretty sure when used in the context of a message during a particularly nasty text war with the ex, the word “zing” is equivalent to “fuck you.”

Breaking up is never easy. Everyone is quick to weigh in on your breakup once they hear about it. I’ve heard it all: the voicemail breakup, the post it breakup (how very Sex in the City of him), the text message breakup. Then there were the pep talks: the my-relationship-was-longer-than-yours-so-it-was-worse pep talk, the you’re-better-off-without-him pep talk, and, my personal favorite, the why-would-you-be-upset-about-him-he’s-wearing-a-velour-track-suit-in-public pep talk. People just want to help you get though, it’s heartwarming and gut wrenching at the same time.

I lucked out and got dumped while my [ex] boyfriend was blackout drunk and trying to get me to watch Youtube videos of The Muppets. All of a sudden, it wasn’t working out and here I am, wide eyed and trying to figure out what to do now while he falls into a blissful alcoholic coma next to me. I must have dozed off at some point, because I woke up a few hours later to the alarming sounds of someone sleep-peeing in the corner. I mopped up the urine that soaked my Complete Works of Shakespeare and threw away the last two years with the soggy paper towels. For some strange reason I felt like things could only go up from there.

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