The $588 oil change

At this point, I feel I have gathered enough evidence to issue a general warning: Do not go to Jiffy Lube.

1. SMF took his reliable foreign car for an oil change. He got upsold a new air filter -- which was never installed. He told them it was never installed, and they remedied the situation by charging him for it a second time.

2. I took my humble Ford to Jiffy Lube for an oil change. Jiffy Lube then lost or simply discarded my oil filler cap, which caused oil to spray all over my engine like a fucking geyser. Of course, I didn't realize this until my car started smoking (like a fucking geyser) and I had to take it to a mechanic, who now wants to charge me $588 to replace a cap, some antifreeze, and power steering fluid.

It is worth noting that SMF and I did not go to the same Jiffy Lube, so I have to assume this is something more than coincidence, and I hereby dismiss them all as crap.

Do not go to Jiffy Lube.

Snapple for Becky, Herpes for Otto.

It's not Valentine's day or anything, but if you've been getting a little lax in your personal relationships, I think you ought to pause, remember what it's actually like to date, and consider the alternatives:



This next video/ cautionary tale begins with an incomprehensible but innocuous photo shoot at Target and quickly escalates into the most awkward, uncomfortable, terrible thing you will ever see on the internet. Things get especially hairy around 2:19. Next time you hear a crack about white guys dancing, I want you to remember this video, ineptly "chorographed" by five soulful gentlemen in wife beaters. And mesh shorts. And socks.



You know, as the proud owner of a vagina, I think I can speak for all of us when I say that there's only one thing we appreciate more than homoerotic amateur dance-offs in studio apartments: baked goods.

Love means never having to say you're sorry (about the Herpes).

Junk/ Food

IN THIS ECONOMY, I guess I can understand why advertisers might feel the need to resort to the overt sexualization of, well, everything. For example:



Personally, I find that ad a tad ambiguous for my taste. I prefer this:



In case you missed it: unmanageable pubic hair is unsightly.

Some homophobes are, apparently, upset about this Quizno's ad -- but only because the oven is male:



Speaking of phallic sandwiches, the reigning champion of ads-that-make-everyone-regrettably-uncomfortable is still Burger King. Good-bye, homoerotic King of yore.

Wake up with the King 'just watching you sleep.'

IN THIS ECONOMY, we've decided to go a different direction -- with doe-eyed blond blowup dolls who are visibly frightened and awed by the uber-masculine, vegetable-less Super Seven Incher.

I bet you look good in the psych ward.

I think about Halloween pretty much all year.
.

In January, I'd decided on Darla from Dazed and Confused -- mostly so I could act like an asshole all night.

.

"Air raid, bitches!"

April: Margot Tenenbaum. But, really, I can't pull off a shirt-dress. And where am I going to get a wear-once fur coat that I'm actually willing to wear once? And a wooden finger? And I have to smoke for the night?

Nah.

Now I'm undecided, and experiencing great inner turmoil (brunettes are, sadly, limited), but since I'm a chick, I guess my costume has to be SEXY!

"I don't know if you noticed, but I am female."

I thought I'd seen SEXY! stretched to the limit by the sorostitutes in Morgantown, who enacted the SEXY! bumblebee; the SEXY! cop; the SEXY! bin Laden; the SEXY! food; SEXY! Stewie, SEXY! Spongebob, etc. -- but, today, I'm glad to see the return of the sexy mental patient.

I don't really understand this costume, as it renders jello shots pretty much impossible, but welcome back to 1991, you SEXY! beast.