Toilets of the Future

Whenever I take the Metra home to the burbs, I always make sure to make one stop before getting on my train. It’s not Nuts on Clark. It’s not the convenience store to grab a lady mag. It’s not even to buy a ticket (Holla 10 ride pass!) 

No. Whenever I go to Union Station, I always make sure to stop by their state-of-the-art bathroom. EVEN IF I DON’T HAVE TO GO. Allow me to explain. 

First of all, the bathroom itself is crucial. You have to go to the one that’s wayyyy out of the way. It’s past the Amtrak terminal and right by the ticket area. There’s never a line, which in itself is impressive. So once you get in the stall (that you didn’t have to wait for) you’re confronted by what you might expect to be a disgusting, overused public toilet. But nay, you are mistaken. Instead you are greeted by a toilet of the future. The toilet has this tube of plastic wrap around the seat and you press this giant red button and the plastic slides along, leaving you with fresh, unused plastic. It’s essentially a sterile toilet. Pure genius. 

But HOLD UP. You may be wondering where that old plastic went. EGAD! Does it just slide around and get reused over and over, leaving you with a false sense of security?? No. I know this because whoever invented this magic toilet explained in explicit detail that once the plastic is used, it is INCINERATED. Never to be used again. Rad.

The fun hasn’t even started though.

After you have relieved your bladder, without the cramping induced from squatting over the toilet, it is now time to wash your hands. The sink is nothing out of the ordinary, but the hand dryer. OH THE HAND DRYER. It is a Dyson Air Blade, aka the coolest and most functional invention of the new millennium. 

For those of you who have not had the privilege of using a Dyson Air Blade, it is this strange looking contraption that you slide your hand down into, without touching any part of it. It motion detects your hands and you slide them through a BLADE OF AIR. It is as cool as it sounds. 

Today while I sat on the train thinking about the Dyson Air Blade, I started to wonder why there aren’t more functional inventions like this, and why they aren’t as widely used. Why is there a new version of iTunes every three days? Why can I buy a phone that can surf the web and do my accounting and brush my teeth, yet I have to go to Union Station to use a Dyson Air Blade? It just doesn’t seem right. 

Yeah, Face Time is cool, but it can’t make my day the same way an awesome hand dryer can. Maybe that’s just me. 

OHMYGOD CHASE CRAWFORD

One thing that you, my dear readers, should understand about me is that I do not typically obsess over celebrities, male or female, except for Rihanna. (How could I not?! Look at that mermaid hair). BUT, I just watched this really depressing movie called "Twelve" and it was just mediocre, except for 

CHASE F*CKING CRAWFORD

When his beautiful mug first graced the screen my jaw dropped. I then proceeded to cream my jeans throughout the rest of the movie. That is all that really needs to be said about this film, as the pictures below do alllllll of the talking. I know I'm late jumping on this bandwagon, but now I see why people are obsessed with Gossip Girl. 

ENJOY.

Just... no. I just can't. His scruff is perfection.

But he cleans up DAMN good too.

REAL GOOD.

But I think I like him best with a dingy V-neck

 and a huge mound-o-mary jane in front of him.

That's all for now, but you can expect Mr. Crawford to be making some prettttttty frequent visits in the posts to come.

DOLL HOARDER. Nuff said.

Phyllis here is a sweet old lady that HOARDS FUCKING DOLLS. A&E claims she has hundreds of thousands of them. I doubt there's several hundreds of thousands of them, but there's at least 50k in there.

The creepiest part is that Phyllis sees nothing wrong with her "collection." She thinks they're a way to make her crazy batshit happy. Actually, no, the creepiest part is her doll hospital. She collects dolls, mutilates them, and sews their parts to other dolls. She gives one doll a hand transplant that closely resembles one of Kristen Wiig's infamous characters. To quote dear old Phyllis,

"People wait for donors, right? Like a kidney donor, right? Ok. What's the difference between my little doll waiting for a hand donor, right?"

Uh, hold up Phyllis. I can see a lot of differences there. For one, people don't donate hands. And second, dolls don't need transplants of any kind BECAUSE THEY'RE NOT ALIVE PHYLLIS. They're dolls.

Wait though, the creepiest part of this whole thing is really Phyllis's son. I can't really blame him, but whyyy is he still living there?

To watch the disconcerting videos and to see what Jezebel had to say about it, click here

Proclaiming my self-importance

Hello all of my soon to be readers. I have decided that my thoughts are important and should be shared with the world wide web, and therefore, I have started my own blog. I know, I'm ~too hip to handle~

This blog will mostly be dorky and slightly offensive and kind of just a stream of consciousness (as you can tell by my run-on sentences, which are totally acceptable as long as it's a stream of consciousness). As a college student, I inevitably spend a lot of time on the internet, and therefore find things that I think are funny or interesting. Some of these aforementioned things are just too interesting or funny for Facebook. They are deserving of a much grander and more sophisticated platform. Those things will find themselves HERE. On my ~blog~

This blog will mostly likely be comprised of stupid links, bad songs, and indecipherable ramblings, but if you've read this far I think we're going to get along juuuuuuuust fine.

To give you a taste of the good things to come, here's what I'm listening to this week (and by that I mean playing on repeat until I can no longer listen to it. Just ask my roommates).

WARNING: I'm pretty sure this video can induce seizures.