Spiked Beauty - Miss Death

These days style must be matched with function.  That necklace?  Better also be a choker (that will...you know, actually choke somebody).  Those shoes - well, they don't call them stilettos for nothing!  That adorable bag?  Can it conceal an automatic weapon?  It better.  Rule #1 of End of World Fashion: Dress it up anyway you like, but make sure the firepower is deadly.

Lady Gaga: Prepared for the Apocalypse since 2008.

When I saw this beautiful line of claw jewelry by Dilan Walpola on the ever handy trendhunter.com, I thought - now that's a man with his neck bolts screwed on right!  Style, beauty and utility.

I can only imagine that he was inspired by the string of mutations that have befallen humans recently.  But for those of us who are still waiting for our fangs, scissorhands, and automatic weapon legs, it wouldn't hurt to load up on some of these.   No one - be it zombie, alien, looter, or just your average Mr. Saturday Night Bar Douchebag, will mess with you if you flash them one of these babies.

Dilan's Fall Line, coming to a Bloomingdales near you.

There's no time! There's never any time! - Miss Conquest

I'm so excited!  I'm so excited!  I'm so...so...eh, you know the rest.

You said it, sister.   Now pass the caffeine pills.  And if you wouldn't mind, could you grind them up first and just shoot them directly into my veins?  Thanks.  We've got some serious work to do.

In today's segment of "No Shit, Sherlock," scientists have determined that humans are bigger assholes than meteorites.  According to The Daily Mail, all of our filthy human habits are going to cause a mass extinction of 75% of all life sometime in the next three to twenty centuries.

This is NOT cool people!  Are you aware of how long it takes to plan a good End of The World Party??  You are simply not giving us enough time!  My to-do list is the length of Charlie Sheen's coke lines!

Save the dates need to go out, caterers need to be booked.  Do you know how hard it is to find someone that will cook both humans and FOR humans?  The Colosseum needs a good once over with a dust rag and a vacuum (Seriously, their general upkeep is terrible.).  We need to make sure R.E.M. is free to play that day (so hard to pin down).  The girls and I need to go shopping for the perfect frocks (this IS the most important day of a Horsewoman's life after all), and find the perfect escorts - you can't simply go to The End of the World Bash with just anyone!  Quick! What does Clooney's 2311 looks like.  Is he booked?

Anyhoo.  The Daily Mail is using the ever popular tactic of showing you some adorable animals to convince you to go all superhero and save the world.   And gdamn it's effective!

"Plastic bottles hurt my gentle soul."

"Turn off those lights or I'll cry!  ...And my mom might rip out your throat.  Maybe."

Secretly plotting to put human muzzles on us in our sleep.  And then cackle at us in the most playful way!

But let me try a different approach:  

I know we're all anxious for the end of the world here, people.  No one is more anxious than we are.  Trust me.  But you can't rush perfection.  And believe me, you want this party to be perfect.  This is your final sendoff!   So if you want to be sure that we've supplied the absolute best wine for this soirée, and that we've booked all the best bands, and that this is the best damn End of Days Party you could never imagine even in your wildest dreams - RECYCLE!  Go a little greener, people!  Come ON!  Would it kill you to buy a freakin electric car?  Put up a solar panel or two!  If not for the sake of these poor creatures...and you know,  75% of ALL LIFE!  then do it just to give a gal a little extra time to plan a party!  Is that so much to ask???

We Buy It!

The good folks at www.cuttingroomcomic.com have placed their vote on the cause of this here Armageddon, and frankly, it isn't a bad hypothesis at all!

What do you think?  Is this flood of fiery sulfur we're experiencing all because God is really just a frustrated Firefly fan?  And what do you think he thinks of Castle?? 

Discuss! 

Oh you silly Mayans.

Mayans:  Punking future generations since 2000BC.

This Apocalyptic Picture of the Day has been brought to you by failblog.org.  Winning at Failing! 

Spotted: It's a Zombie! It's an Alien! It's...Charlie Sheen? - Miss War

Good People of What's Left of Planet Earth:

We here at the Offices For Orchestrating & Surviving the Apocalypse have taken a sworn oath to warn you about any hideous and dangerous new monster sitings. 

We've recently spotted a brand new creature.  Consider this an Official Advisory for :

The Zombie-Alien Hybrid

Please help control the monster population and have your  Zombies and Aliens spayed or neutered.

We Horsewomen never thought we would see the day when Zombies and Aliens bred, but as Miss Conquest will tell you, the Apocalypse can make you kinda desperate. 

The Creature is thought to be extremely drunk, highly crazy, and potentially dangerous (although thus far, it has only proven to be a danger to itself and CBS).

News of the Creature first hit before the actual Apocalypse.  We foolishly ignored the signs when CBS continuously renewed TWO AND A HALF MEN even after we were certain Mr. Sheen had surely destroyed himself.  We should have seen what was really going on.  The studio and network were actually experimenting with early forms of reanimation.   By the time we accepted that Charlie Sheen was really a walking-dead puppet, zombies were already commonplace in our theaters and television sets.

Test Subject #4.  Still working out that pesky facial reconstruction thing.

We're also no stranger to Aliens in the Entertainment World.  It's something we've simply gotten used to.

Aliens: Vacationing on Planet Earth since the early '70s.

 
But recently, whole new threat has landed on the streets.

At first we didn't know what to make of it.  The Creature looked like Zombie Sheen but had taken on a whole new level of Crazy.  Finally, yesterday, the Creature came forward and confessed what it truly was.  It told us that: “I’m tired of pretending like I’m not special. I’m tired of pretending like I’m not bitchin’, a total freakin’ rock star from Mars.”

It all makes so much more sense now.

"I have come to mate with your porn stars, melt your faces, and take your money."

IF YOU SEE IT: 
Throwing money and hookers at the Creature seems to subdue it for a few moments, allowing you enough time to run away.  It's not very fast and easily trips over its own words and thought processes.

Shiny...

WARNING:
Whatever you do, do NOT feed it drugs and alcohol.  This seems to be as dangerous as feeding a Mogwai after midnight.

Just added to the 2011-2012 CBS Lineup.

Let's Just Ignore That Hiatus - Miss War

When did we last post a blog...let's see here. Jesus Christmas! June 11?? Time flies when it doesn't exist.

Important Updates from Our Hiatus: Same shit, different day. Frankly, there just wasn't much to report. BP killed off the Gulf (which saved us loads of time.) Justin Cronin came out with the Vampire Bible known as "The Passage," and we got tan this summer. Hallefreakinlujah.

The office doors are open and we are hard at work blogging again (can you hear us? Blog bloggity blog blog.) We also just hired a new freelance writer to help us out because the dude levels around this office were running dangerously low.

Meet Martin. He is our new freelance blogger and he is a boy. That pretty much summed up everything that we knew about him until about a week ago. Then things got interesting.

Martin is a bit green. He's wet behind the ears. He's willing, eager and stupid. How he convinced us to let him write for us, I will never know. All I know is that Miss Death has been throwing her clavicle up in his face all week like a cheap zombie trick. Thankfully, the kid can string two sentences together in some semblance of a blog post, so we'll keep him around for now. But I digress.

There's one hell of a zombie virus running amok. Just like flu season, it comes and goes, but this outbreak has been bad. Nearly everyone we're friends with has come down with it. So it goes without saying that our easily excited and not-very-smart freelancer, Martin, got caught with his proverbial pants down one night while jogging through the neighborhood and long story short, the kid's a damn zombie now.

He's doing well considering. Once the projectile bloody vomiting subsided and his orifices stopped leaking and he took a shower, he's fairly back to normal, apart from the whole "becoming a zombie" thing. He's actually getting out more. We suspect he had a date last week with the zombie secretary from the office next door.

But since this whole zombie thing is still new to Martin, the real problems haven't started yet. See, zombie-ism comes with a whole new set of problems if you will. There's the constant oozing, the agonizing pain as your cells die, and the leprosy. Martin will, within a few weeks, literally go to pieces right before our very eyes. Moisturize all you like, Martin. Your skin is still going to fall off.

We did what we thought was best and took a bunch of bets at Martin's expense. We've got a really solid pool going right now on which body part will fall off first. I have $25 on his fingers going first. Miss Death put $40 on his legs. And Miss Famine is just a filthy dirtball.

If he hopes to get anywhere with this secretary, he's going to have to do it fast.

We'll keep you updated on Martin and his zombie shortcomings, and we also solemnly vow to keep blogging! No more hiatus.No more messing around. We are serious, damnit! Blog bloggity blog blog!

Until next time, here's hoping Miss Famine is wrong - for Martin's sake.

The Horsewomen are World Cup bound! Thanks, BP! - Miss Famine

I woke up very early today.  And I am not a morning person.  But today there was a spring in my step as I hopped out of bed, threw on my team's colors, and trotted down to our local pub to watch Mexico take on hosts South Africa in the kick off game of the 2010 FIFA World Cup!   It ended in a tie, but what a game! Mexico scored in the first two minutes!  I hadn't even had a chance to order my breakfast (bangers and mash anyone?) and people were already up and doing victory dances.  God I love soccer.  And I think God loves soccer too.

In general, I'm about as big of a sports fan as I am a morning fan.  Apparently the NBA finals are going on? Someone mentioned something about last night's Lakers/Celtics game.  And all I could think was, Hold a tic.  I thought Ireland didn't make the tournament this year... 

But then my bloody mary arrived and my attention reverted to the sporting event at hand (and the spicy beverage in MY hand).

The girls and I love the World Cup.  We have a countdown to it every four years.  And thank goodness the time difference this year is such that we're not going to repeat the Sleepless Summer of '02.

There's something special about soccer.  Maybe it's the way it unites the world.  Like the Olympics, Round Two.  Maybe it's the obsession passion that the fans have for their teams that leads to monster riots celebrations the world over.  Maybe it's the fact that it's a great excuse to drink during the work day.

 We could learn a thing or two from the Europeans.  Like, NBA finals should be played at 11am. On a Tuesday.

I spent a lot of time pondering why soccer is so awesome this morning.  And finally sometime around my third bloody mary, Miss Conquest reached over and smacked me upside the head. "Stop nattering to yourself, Famine. People are looking at you funny, and it's not because of your scythe.  The players are why we watch soccer. They're hot."

I'm not quite as shallow as Miss Conquest.  I like the intense competition.  The sportsmanship.  The fact that soccer most likely evolved from a sport where players kicked a human head around a field. (All who think they should bring back that tradition, say Ay!  I'm writing a letter to FIFA.)

But she has a point.  Example:  Miss War's favorite team?  France.  Why? Yoann Gourcuff.

 Bordeaux is now officially War's favorite wine AND team.  

 

We all know Miss Conquest is a pure blooded American Girl, so she has no trouble at all cheering for the USofA and its captain, Carlos Bocanegra.

The REAL Captain America

And Miss Death's favorite player?

Surprise. Surprise. 

According to her, the fact that Becks is sidelined with an injury just means he gets to dress better than everybody else. 


We're now in the midst of the Uruguay/France game, which is off to a much slower start than --

WHAT?!  Miss Death just ran into the pub with the most amazing news: 

"BP can't get more tankers to even BEGIN dealing with the oil spill until JULY now!  They've got the Apocalypse COVERED.  Let's take a vacation!!!"

And we're off!!

See ya later, readers!  The girls and I are headed to South Africa!!!

And thanks Oil Industry for making our jobs easy and sponsoring this here Apocalypse!

THE APOCALYPSE

Brought to you by your friends at BP