torsoslookinglikefaces.com

Know what? Just stop reading this right now. This will ruin your day. But I've already written it, so it's gonna happen. Be warned that it's NSFW (there's PG-13 nudity). ((boobz)).
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WELL, a few weeks ago, I saw one of the best things I've ever seen on the internet:




BAM! This is just so goddamn awesome. Who is this woman? Does she know that her torso looks like Homer's face? Who first noticed it?? I hate that I will never know these things.




Naturally I enjoyed the shit out of that. And then just a few days ago, I happened upon another torso-face which someone else had discovered. It is safe for work but still gross because it's Iggy Pop.




Iggy Pop has always given me the willies. His gummyworm spine, those telephone cord veins, the way that I can see every bit of striated muscle through his greasy baked chicken skin... Hey Iggy Pop, where's all your subcutaneous tissue?


After seeing those, my friend Kristen and I decided that we probably needed to start a blog devoted entirely to torsos looking like faces. We could call it torsoslookinglikefaces.com!

We haven't gotten around to it yet. Don't take that domain, asswipes!



The google search for more torso-faces proved more challenging than I had originally thought. First I tried "Torso-Face". I found nothing. Kristen just found a bunch of disembodied anime torsos. ('Disembodied' is the opposite of the right word for this situation.)



Then I tried googling "fat naked" and "old naked" because I thought they'd have the most expressive faces on account of all the loose skin.

I wouldn't recommend doing that, by the way. The internet... it's just... the worst.

(Forgive me, Internet-- I didn't mean it!!)

But it paid off to comb through all of those photos that I have thusfar not been able to unsee. I found a few keepers:

Pre-op plastic surgery victim


LOOKS LIKE....


Guy Incognito










Some athlete


LOOKS LIKE...


William Hurt as The Elephant Man (kinda?)

I know this one is kind of cheating... butwhocaresbecauseLOOKIT!

Now those were just warm-up. I was just getting you ready for the crown jewel; the fruits of my labor.
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Post-gastric bypass surgery man (front view)


LOOKS LIKE...


Walter Matthau

Post-gastric bypass surgery man (side view)


LOOKS LIKE...

Droopy Dawg

Okay, that's it. You can erase this from your internet history now.

What My Dreams Look Like

Boingeroingeroingeroingeroing!

Robin sandwich

I need to remember to learn how to actually use photoshop. I have so much to give!

Defaced coloring book: When I Grow Up

My roommate is going into social work to work with children because she has her life together and junk. One day she brought home a nice coloring book called "When I Grow Up" showing a bunch of possible careers. I did this to it. My roommate wasn't mad because I left it so that she could still color it in. Now you can too!

You can see the PDF of selected scanned pages here!



sample picture:

Stuffed Handbanana

Remember that really fucked up episode of Aqua Teen Hunger Force where Meatwad makes a dog from some software and names it Handbanana? And then Handbanana ends up raping Carl? If you haven't, but that sounds appealing to you, you can watch it here. I know I'm not supposed to think it's funny because it trivializes rape, and I shouldn't laugh at that as a feminist. Look, I HATE rape! I do! But it was fucking funny. The worst things in the world always happen to Carl, so the writers really couldn't have gone on avoiding "Carl gets raped by a dog" forever!

That's the original Handbanana.

Anyway, my friend Jen thought it was funny too, so for Christmas I made her a giant Handbanana cuddle friend. I got a good deal on the furry yellow fabric in Midtown because no one would ever want to use that on clothes for people, and the rest was all needle, thread, and glue. Once again, all I have here are crappy cell phone shots because I am lazy.




It turned out that in spite of all the rape stuff, Handbanana was incredibly comfortable to cuddle with. As The Little Spoon, his head made a perfect pillow, and your arms could fit comfortably in each nook of his legs/tail/cock(?). I hated to give him away.

A Total Recall Halloween

Instead of asking people their favorite movie, a friend of mine always asks them what movie they actually have seen the most times. It's the movie you watch not because it's impressive, but because you're compelled to watch it any time the opportunity comes up, and it holds a special place in your heart. It reveals more about a person than the official "favorite movie" ever could.

Mine is Total Recall.

You remember it, right? With Arnold Schwarzenegger as the everyday guy who gets caught up in a spy plot on Mars, only to find out that (SPOILER ALERT) he has been a spy the whole time?!?

Haven't seen it? All you really need to know for this, besides the fact that you should go get Total Recall ASAP, is that there's one scene that no one ever forgets.

See, the part of Mars where the riffraff live has inadequate radiation shielding, so they all become mutants (Not from lack of oxygen as I previously had thought. Thank you, Andy, for the helpful correction. I'm so ashamed.) So Douglas Quaid (that's Schwarzenegger) goes there to look for a contact who is a prostitute. He is sidetracked by another prostitute-- her name is Mary-- who tries to tempt him by flashing her goods. Okay, now I'm giving you a scrolldown warning, because this is somewhat NSFW. Not real, but definitely vulgar.
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"Baby, you make me wish I had three hands!"
-Actual quote from movie

So obviously I wanted to be her for Halloween. I made the triple breasts out of papier mache that I formed over balloons. The rest of the costume was pretty fucking good, but I lost the high res pictures with the full body shots. But I do have a camera phone picture that I took on the subway on the way home. That night I got stopped by one cop who thought they were real, and by several gross dudes who asked how many vaginas I had. (The only answer that made them leave me alone: "ZERO.")

Elvis Costello Wall Decal

Just a little thing I did a couple years ago... while unemployed. A lifelong obsession with Elvis Costello combined with a fleeting obsession with contact paper led me to make this. Created with silver contact paper and an exacto knife. He was about 3.5 feet tall. He didn't survive my move two months later, so this is all the evidence I have of his existence.

Giant Sour Patch Kid

I spent the entire year after college floundering, wandering from place to place trying to figure out what to do. One of those places was my parents' house. I know people are supposed to complain about living with their parents as adults, but it the truth is, it was fucking great. Jobless and penniless (no, I said penniless), I got to hang out with the dogs all day and be served like an obese Roman emperor. It was like being a housewife, but without the chores or the possibility of divorce.

One of the ways I used all of my free time (besides re-watching the edited-for-cable version of Die Hard on TNT over and over again-- "Yippee ki yay, melon-farmer!") was to accomplish one of my lifetime goals: making a giant, fully-functional (yes.) Sour Patch Kid.

I'll just take you through step-by-step. The entire process cost me around $30, which I think may have been all the money I had at the time.


Step 1:

The positive mold. Made this out of air-drying clay from Michael's Arts n Crafts. I told the women there what I was making and they were not AS impressed as I'd hoped they'd be.



Step 2:

The negative mold made with Plaster of Paris.



The complete negative mold. It still has red clay residue so I covered it in saran wrap to protect the future Sour Patch Kid.



Step 3:

Mixed up the ingredients and put it in the mold. The recipe is a modified gumdrop recipe. It was mainly corn syrup, fruit juice, fruit pectin, and a whole lot of Kool-Aid (the concentrated sugarless packets that are basically just flavoring and citric acid).




Step 4:

Fresh out of the mold.

Extreme closeup!


Step 5:

Dusted with lemon kool-aid mix and sugar to give it that super sour sugar covering.


Eventually I did have to to leave my parents' home-- not because I got sick of it, but because I'm very susceptible to peer pressure. Once other people told me that my living with my parents after college was uncool or dysfunctional or childlike or some crap like that, I figured it was time to go. But before I left, I tucked the mold into a safe corner in my parents' basement. One day when I'm living there again-- and I say when, not if-- I will resurrect it and make an entire army of Sour Patch Kids. Nay: Sour Patch MEN.