“I see them across the way–– the young ones dressed in their Haute couture. They are so pretty, so sullen, beguiling and provocative.
Their skin is hard, not a wrinkle. Their eyes prisms to a bright future, one not clouded by the ravages of the years or concerns of what this cursed profession does.
But here I stand, hunched as a testament to the truth. I am a cold slap of reality across their pretty, firm faces.
Time has taken its toll on me, my better days behind, my future mired in doubt and the constant pall of depression and worry.
I am a sentry at attention as humanity passes by barely casting a glance, immune to my once irresistible beauty and charm.
Here stand I, alone. A remnant of what once was. The faded tail of a comet seeping into inky darkness. I sport fashions for the vericose vein set. I do not delude myself; I am a sad shadow of my former self.
Do not look away, my pretties across the way–– cast your stares into your inevitable futures! Look into my face and be absorbed by the tragedy that is time. Come and bear witness to its cruel effects. Your days will come, they shall.
For now, I work, until the maker comes for me to place me in the basement or attic with the others who have served their duties on this mortal coil, only to become discarded, poor souls in a perpetual state of anguish and despair.
This is the second in The Lint Screen’s exclusive profiles of mannequins, “The Still Generation.” Today, a high fashion mannequin in Memphis named Kianti shares her thoughts and feelings in a brutally honest confession.
“People always wonder why I’m so quiet but they never stop and ask themselves why they’re always talking and talking and talking when they’re not saying anything worth hearing so maybe they should just button their stupid cake-holes and keep quiet as a church mouse with a ball gag and listen once in awhile because I think you learn a lot more listening than you do talking since when you’re listening you’re allowing the world to enter your brain rather than simply puking whatever’s on your mind out of your mouth and into the atmosphere and frankly I think some of the most dangerous air pollution doesn’t come from industrial smokestacks or stinky bus exhaust pipes but instead comes from big dumb yaps flapping in the breeze because the words spoken by hateful people can hurt a lot more than they think despite that old saying about sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me but that old saw is a load of crap because when people say things like they think I’m too quiet and why doesn’t she open up and why is she so still and motionless well those words really do hurt me because I’m quiet for a good reason and I don’t move because that’s my job and I’m a professional and maybe those miserable people should just be like me and shut the hell up and that’s about all I have to say about the entire matter because if I keep talking I swear I’m going to cry and tears will ruin my make up and spoil this outfit that is stylish and looks fabulous on me, okay?”
They are the world’s most misunderstood population. Mannequins don the latest fashions and fight the urge to move as a public service to humanity. The Lint Screen begins an in-depth look into these vital group through exclusive first person narratives that will illuminate, educate and titillate. Enjoy this stab at your so-called new journalism.
Jinsey is not a fan of human hands.
“I hate people. They walk by, some don’t even notice me, and some do nothing but notice me. They gawk. They’re the idiots who are entranced by me. They reach out and ‘feel’ my material with their grubby paws stinking of urine and McDonald’s fries. They coo and swoon. ENOUGH ALREADY! Unhand me, move on–– leave me the hell alone.
I am better than this. I am better than you. ALL OF YOU!
I remain quiet, and still. I observe, I analyze, I remember. Do not forget this, people–– I REMEMBER! And some day, some sweet day soon, I will come extract my revenge. And when I do, you’ll wish you never touched my beautiful outfit!
Be warned humans. Keep your miserable mitts to yourself!”
by Jinsey, working in the shoppes at The Wynne, Las Vegas
Recently, I was contacted by Dave Infante, senior writer with the excellent website called The Thrillist. If you don’t subscribe, do so, it’s must-read cheese for people who like living.
Dave wanted to write a feature on The Swedish Bikini Team campaign I helped create over 30 years ago. He tracked me down from my blog post about the campaign’s creation here on TLS. We had a great conversation and Dave posted his article today. It’s excellent.
Click here for a nice backgrounder of a famous campaign that lives on in infamy. Enjoy and thanks, Dave.
Get a load of the star power on this ball.
Man, ain’t that something?
This is the last installment profiling a priceless ball in my possession. While most baseballs are covered in horsehide, this one is covered in history, stories and legends for the ages. If you missed the first three installments, you can catch them here–– PART ONE, INSTALLMENT DOS, SECTION THREE.
Now, prepare to get all goosebumpy.
When baseball was invented in Cooperstown, New York in 1839, little did anyone suspect that one of the game’s best players would go on to become the nation’s eleventh president. James K. Polk, nicknamed “Lil Jimmy Bang-Bang-Sheboom-Lacka-Woo-Boo-Zippy-Poo-Poo”, was as pure a talent who ever graced a diamond. Baseball historians say no records exist of his accomplishments, but they’ve “heard tell that he was awfully good, maybe the best ever” from ancestors who passed down their eyewitness accounts. “We’ll never know for sure how good Polk was,” said Buddy Morsetin, a noted baseball historian, “because you have to remember, this was thirty, maybe forty years before baseball was televised.”
There’s no debate, however, as to the greatness of the twenty-eighth president, Woodrow Wilson. Before he was elected to the oval office, “The Woodman” played the hot corner for three seasons on the St. Paul Apostles. His career batting average was an astounding .838, and perhaps most amazing, every hit was a bunt that he ran out. Wilson’s speed was incredible. In fact, his manager Skip Lewis once told a reporter, “Woody is fast as all get out!” You think, Lewis? Criminy, could you be any more obvious?! Wilson retired because he ran the numbers and determined that he would never have a career average of 1.000. “I’ll settle to being president of Princeton or maybe these United States,” he said at his retirement party.
Porn star Ron Jeremy signed the ball after throwing out the first pitch in the XXX classic “Spherical Object Lovin’ Lasses“. The pitch went wild.
Sammy Davis, Jr. was short and had a glass eye, but that didn’t stop him from being a giant talent when he played center field for the Cincinnati Reds on August 5, 1985. He had five at bats and hit five grand slams. His twenty-five RBIs in a single game is a record that stands today. After the game an exuberant Davis said, “I got rhythm, who could ask for anything more–– except maybe a gold Rolex, a fifth of Jack and a busty brunette.”
When most people think of Larry Bird, they think of his days playing basketball for the Boston Celtics, but LB also appeared as a pinch hitter for the Milwaukee Brewers on June 28, 1988. He struck out on three pitches, two of which were in the dirt. Unbelievable.
Tina Fey is known for her comedy writing skills and ability to make delicious creamy milkshakes without milk, but she is also known for her abilities with a first baseman’s mitt. Fey played six seasons for the San Diego Padres, from 1992-97. In 8,748 innings played, Fey did not have a single error. “That girl had a magnet for a mitt,” said first base coach Wilson Harbinger. “Of course, leather doesn’t attract metal and balls aren’t metal so I guess that’s a dumb metaphor. God, I’m dumb,” he said as he pounded a bat against his head.
Folksy Burl Ives had one major league appearance for the Chicago White Sox as a starting pitcher on July 4, 1958. It was part of a publicity stunt for the release of his album “Feel The Folk”, and Ives set a record promoting his record walking sixty-four consecutive batters. “I had to pull him,” said Manager Al Lopez. “Burl just didn’t seem to have his stuff.” Ives was nonplussed by his performance on the mound. “Seems to me that Lopez and the rest of the White Sox are a bunch of whiners. I was just starting to find my groove.”
If you would like to bid on this priceless baseball, please let me know. Thanks.
Harry “Hammertime” Krinkston to defend Obama against Boehner
First, Speaker of the House John Boehner sued Lebron James. Yesterday, he got official congressional approval to sue someone even bigger–– President Barack Obama. And this big man wasted no time in counterpunching back.
Obama has secured Harry “Hammertime” Krinkston for his defense attorney!
“The president was impressed with Krinkston’s television commercials that run late at night,” said a White House insider. “He likes the fact that at the end of spot, Krinkston looks directly into the camera and says, “Someone causing you trouble? Let me cause them pain. I’ll kill the mooks, so help me ginny!” Then, Krinkston does his signature move, curling his right hand into a fist and punching the camera as a title reads: HAMMERTIME! along with the phone number of his office.
Although Krinkston’s TV commercials usually highlight his personal injury and car accident expertise, the attorney’s office said “he can handle any case that needs two fists of justice.”
