Skimpy Sunday

(Via Unzipped [NSFW]; Queer Porn Nation [NSFW]; Fleshbot [NSFW])

Polar Express

Polar Bear Cub: "Mush! Mush!"

Mother: "*sigh* Yes, dear. *mutter* I used to be more than a cub carrier. I had dreams! Ambitions! But, nooooooooo, I had to get hopped up on walrus blubber one night and let that deadbeat climb on top of me!"

The L Network

If anyone has Logo on their cable and ever watches it, question: could they possibly stuff more The L Word episodes into their line-up? Seriously, every time I turn the channel on, it's either on or coming up within the next hour or two. And when it's not The L Word, it's Queer As Folk (I regret watching every episode of that the first time; I'm not going to watch it again) or the same really, really bad gay movies (like this one about a guy who gets off on being electrocuted or this horrendous RuPaul thing that has the worst audio dubbing ever) over and over again. Get better programming, Logo!

Fashion Disaster

I was watching an iPod Nano commercial and a Macy's ad recently, and it hit me that I think that women's fashions in particular, at this time, are really... unfortunate. The leggings, the Palm Beach Jewish grandmother jewelry, the potato sack blouses: hideous. But then I remember back to my high school years not ten years ago, and there were some unfortunate fashions then, too. I particularly remember these nylon or whatever parachute pants in garish colors with like ribbons coming out of them, as well as these amusingly horrid bowling-type shirts (with flaming skulls!) my straight male friend used to wear. I guess every generation has to have its "OMG, what was I wearing, and how did we think that looked good?!?" moment when busting out the old photo album to show the kids they, too, were once young.

Skimpy Sunday

(Via Vincent Lambert [NSFW]; Unzipped [NSFW]; Fleshbot [NSFW]; Bill in Exile [NSFW])

A Grizzly Decline

The grizzly population of Canada seems to be crashing along with the salmon stocks, but they're going to get hunted anyway. If Canada can't get bear conservation right, what chance does the US have? It's very disheartening.

(BTW, don't you think there should be a Bears for Bears foundation? Get on that, hirsute gay men!)

No, Not The Hatchet Kind!

100 Awesome Bookhacks

(Via Books, Inq.)

Porn Is Bad

I'm a great admirer and user of pornographic films (or, as Mr. Tony Buff [NSFW] calls them, "art films"), but I must admit that sometimes they're not so much a source of pleasure as depression. Seeing impossibly beautiful specimens of male beauty engaging in displays of raw, and even acrobatic, sex makes me feel like even more of a saggy, bloaty dweeb than I already do.

Skimpy Sunday

(Via Roids and Rants [NSFW]; Fleshbot [NSFW]; Unzipped [NSFW]; Jason Curious [NSFW])

Hail To The Chief Nerd

"Take THAT, Republicans! *whoosh* That's right, bitches, the Force is with me!"

I didn't think I could love Obama any more than already, but I was wrong. He makes being a nerd so cool! He's an inspiration to all the little nerdlings out there; finally, they too have a role model!

Fall Approaches

Like the first lines on a celebrated beauty's face, a leaf here and there begins to lose its color amidst the green, signaling the inevitable transition from vibrant summer to melancholy autumn. Technically, it is still summer, but you can feel the change as Nature slips off the vibrant prime of summer for the wise maturity of fall.

As I've said before, autumn is my favorite season, and partly it is because of this. There's something strangely beautiful in decay and melancholy, like scenic ruins from some forgotten kingdom. It's very Romantic. But there's a stateliness, a certain elegance, too. Summer is roaring and rutting, a big belly laugh; Fall is quiet and thoughtful, a secret smile.

"Hit" Me Baby

Does anyone else get annoyed when marketing for a new films or TV show or whatever that isn't even out yet say something along the lines of "the new hit [whatever]" or "XYZ Studios latest hit"? Isn't that a bit presumptuous? Even jinxy? You can't call something a hit when it hasn't even been seen yet!

Kawaii Pugs

Puggies! My Dusty used to do that handstand thing like the one at the end, too. Surprising and amusing behavior from a dog breed not exactly known for their athleticism.

Skimpy Sunday

(Via Towleroad; Unzipped [NSFW])

Isopod Got Your Tongue?

What's even more disturbing than the simple fact that this isopod (a kind of crustacean) has replaced a fish's tongue is the look on its face. "Helloooooooooooo! May I help you? MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" *shudder*

Turing Apology

It looks like the campaign calling for the British government to apologize for its treatment of Alan Turing has paid off. A very small bit of justice is done.

(Via Pharyngula)

The Long-Awaited, Lacerating, Witty And Profound Blog Post By A Blogger At The Peak Of His Powers

Publishers lie, lie, lie, lie, lie! Wittgenstein.

(Via Bookninja)

Restar... Rester... Fuck It, One Of Those Place Where You Get Food In Exchange For Money

Everyone seems to have at least one or two words that they just for the life of them can't spell. For me, "restaurant" is that word. I always try to write "resteraunt" or "restaraunt." That damned first "u"!!! Another one is "accommodate." I always write "accomodate" or something like that.

All I can say is thank Buddha for Firefox's built-in spellchecker! And I'm a good speller, too! Honest!

Cool These Are

Dagobah Frog Habitat

Personal A/C Unit

His Superpower Is Making Me Hot

Great Galactus! Someone get me a comic book, because I need to fan myself! I'd like to explore his Batcave! I'd let him unsheathe his adamantium claw in me any time! He could sling some web on me any day, and twice on Sundays! I want to Green Goblin him up! I'd be on him faster than Barry Allen on speed! (What I'm saying is I find him very attractive and wish to have hot, dirty, geeky sex with him.)

Ball is in your court, Sims! You need to win back your title as the Internet's Hottest Comic Book Fan!

(Via Gay Fleshbot [NSFW])

Let's Dance...

...put on your (eight) red shoes, and dance the blues!

(Via Towleroad)

Is That Giant Rat From The New York Subway?

No, it's from New Guinea.

Skimpy Sunday

(Via Unzipped [NSFW]; Vince Lambert [NSFW])

Well, At Least He Won't Have To Worry So Much About Sunscreen In Scotland

An albino otter.

(Via Towleroad)

The Cold Helps Them Keep Set

Arctic Jellyfish

Turing

The treatment of Alan Turing, considered the founder of computer science as we know it and a hero of WWII (he helped crack Enigma) subsequently prosecuted for his homosexuality and forced to take hormone treatments, eventually committing suicide, is a unconscionable blight in Britain's modern history. Sign this petition calling for a public apology from the British government for their treatment of him. It isn't enough, of course, but it's something, and probably the only thing that can be done at this point.

(Via Roids and Rants [NSFW])

Pluck

Every day on my way to work, I pass a big lake that is part of a state park. Unsurprisingly, given the water and the undoubtedly tasty crumbs from park visitors, a colony of Canada geese live there. One of the gaggle is instantly recognizable because he or she has a left wing that doesn't retract all the way. It looks like it broke it at some point and the bones fused. I can't imagine he or she can fly at all, but he or she's been around for at least a year, surviving at least one winter, and looks totally healthy. This makes me happy.

The Craziest Fucking Thing I've Ever Heard

One word: batshit.

It's All Just A Dream

Do you ever feel like you're not real? I'm not talking about the kind of disorientation where you wake up and it takes your brain a few seconds to boot and you have no idea where the hell you are. It's more like you're a character from a really vivid dream. I often get these bizarre episodes where I just feel disassociated from reality. I know where I am and who I am, but I don't feel it. I have my memories, yet I feel detached from them. (And what is identity without memory?) The most bizarre part is that it isn't really unpleasant; it doesn't send me into a panic or a crisis or anything. It's weird as hell, but not traumatic. It doesn't last more than a second or two, anyway. It is a rather interesting phenomenon, though.

There is a notion that in a multiverse, a highly-enough advanced civilization could develop the inclination and the computing power to created multiple, even infinite, universe "simulations," even ones with intelligent life. This life could even be unaware of its own simulated nature, perhaps even get to a point where it starts simulating universe and down and down into the rabbit hole. In fact, the chance of being in a simulated universe is greater than being in a "real" universe. (If this sounds familiar, it is sort of where The Matrix all came from.) Perhaps these feelings of unreality are glitches in the simulation.

Then there's a Gnostic notion that the universe is just a fitful dream of the sleeping God. Maybe I'm God half-waking for a moment!

Skimpy Sunday

(Via Vince Lambert [NSFW]; Roids and Rants [NSFW]; Towleroad [NSFW]; Bill in Exile [NSFW])

CSI: South Georgia Island

"Eureka! A clue! Quick, get some paster of Paris! I'll find this murderer yet!"

Petro-Partnership

With a little help from bacteria, cacti make even sheer rock bloom.

Blogs That Aren't There Anymore (Part I)

One of the strangest, and sometimes saddest, things about blogging for four-and-a-half years now is reminiscing about how many blogs -- good blogs, much better than this bucket of trash -- Bourgeois Nerd has outlasted. One of the big attractions of blogs, for me at least, is the sense of relationship with the writer. When a blog proprietor decides to close up shop, it can be almost hurtful, and even maddening because later on you wonder just what happened to your "friend" that you don't hear from anymore. So let us now mosey down Cyber Alley of Memory Lane, and reminisce about blogs that aren't there anymore...

Thought Not

One of the earliest blogs I read, and probably the first to shut down, was Oliver's pad. Art, Rottweilers, and hottie bears, oh my! He was also my fateful introduction to Scott, for which I don't know whether to thank or curse him. (Just kidding. It's curse, of course.) As a matter of fact, my relationship with Scott makes me miss Oliver's blog all the more, because I feel I know him better through Scott's stories, and because it gives us something in common. Apparently, he's healthy and happy, though mysteriously self-exiled to Provincetown, with the lesbians (I hear; I've never been.).

We, Like Sheep

I miss woofy Eric. Did he get to move to Barcelona? Did he stick with Hebrew? These are questions that torment me in the darkness of the night.

Faggoty-Ass Faggot

Biting wit and moxie from America's Heartland, Ohio. Brian is a journalist, now, and I hope a big success, but I still miss the bitchy musings.

Tony Hayden (The site there now is the successor to the vlog, not the site I'm talking about.)

The internationally renowned vlogger provided several years worth of triumph, heartbreak, and weiner dogs, chronicling everyday life in gay Orlando, but earlier this year he shut down to pursue other creative endeavors. I have to admit, though it makes me feel like a dork, I was really hurt when he closed down. When you're that intimate -- or at least feel that intimate, and video can be much more intimate than even the most confessional writing -- with a person like that (we even got friendly over email), it hurts when they just "move away" or whatever. It feels like abandonment. Plus, no Ruko! No Thomas! No video from the archives! It makes me a Saaaad Panda.

The Pretty Boys Club

This one has a happy ending: Reader, they married! Still, I miss the witty repartee... and the hot boys. But mostly the repartee. (I'm lying.)

To Be Continued...

Bourgeois Book Club

Been on a bit of a nonfiction kick lately, specifically books about math and time and silly stuff like that. I've been very lucky, and all three have been absolutely excellent, so I thought I'd share, in case anyone is in the market for frivolous fare.

Infinite Ascent: A Short History of Mathematics
by David Berlinski

Really more a sketch than even a true short history, it can be occasionally a bit heavy-going for the math-phobic, and it can lose you if you haven't even thought of algebra or geometry since ninth grade, but a still enjoyable and quick read. The author is also a novelist, and it does show, in a good way. I don't agree with some of his interpretations of history (like I'm some sort of expert), and the fact that he's a creationist is appalling to me, but it really doesn't and shouldn't take away from the book. The cover is one of my absolute favorite of any book I've ever seen. It's simply spectacular: crisp, clean, and evocative.

In Search of Time by Dan Falk

A wide-ranging look at that most mysterious of dimensions from the point of view of myth, physics, philosophy, psychology, and more from one of the best science writers around. (Falks's previous book, The Universe on a T-Shirt, is a highly recommended favorite of mine.) The only real annoyance is the layout. Whoever laid this book out, and the person who signed off on it before sending it to the printer even more so, should be fired. It's not even just nitpicky stuff from a nerd who has done some layout, there are serious problems, including one-word lines force justified across the page, bad spacing, footnotes on the wrong pages, and evenfootnotes that cut off in midsentence. Really a travesty. Hopefully these issues will be corrected by the paperback edition, though.

Is God A Mathematician? by Mario Livio

Another hit-and-run survey of the history of mathematics (though more thorough and far-ranging than Berlinski's), don't let the title fool you: this isn't a religious polemic or apologia. It's much more about the struggles with the meaning of mathematics and the question of the origins of mathematics and its "unreasonable effectiveness" (basically it comes down to whether math is something intrinsic in the universe that we discover or whether its something we create somehow). Clear, lucid, and witty, it's an enjoyable ride without a lot of actual math. The blue of the cover, by the way, is really beautiful and inviting, even strangely soothing. Kudos to the cover designer who picked it! Also, the paper has this oatmealy smell to it that's really nice. (But, then, you know all about my fetish for book smells.)

Just Stick The Ethernet Cable Directly Into A Vein

For about about ninety minutes this evening, I didn't have the Internet. I proceeded to FREAK THE FUCK OUT (though quietly), until it started working again. I was about ten minutes away from standing on a street corner offering to suck dick for some Internet time, while frantically scratching phantom itches. I'm not an addict, though! No, not at all. I can stop any time I want!

Sidebar Updates

First, we welcome back Bread and Circuses for all of our Roman history and archaeology needs.

And then we welcome Urban Pug, which is something like a candy store to a diabetic if you're a cute addict and pug admirer (I miss my Dusty!) like me. But who can resist those squishy faces?!? Squeeeeeeee!

Last but totally not least is Movieline, the best Hollywood website around, where I've become something of a star commenter (in my own mind).

Video Roundup

Over the summer, through those serendipitous byways that seem to sprout when one is just casually wandering about cyberspace, I've come across Internet genius that I must share.

First is NYC man about town, Mr. Mike Diamond. If there's a gay event in town, or anywhere really, here's there to document and interview, stainless steel balls swinging all over the place.

Next is the fresh and fabulous, the divine and delicious Mz. Hedda Lettuce, truly one of our nation's drag treasures.

Then there is the delicate and demure Varla Jean Merman, another American drag treasure.

Finally, in a far different corner of the Internet, Wogoat's flash movies are a comic nerd's delight!

You'd Think Us Gays Were Obsessed With Abs Or Something!

Rod and Joe point out that bellies are in! Hooray! That means I'm "in"! The line forms here boys!

I'm Not Alone

It's not just me that finds the Palm Pre girl freaky! Phew!

For Proofreaders

Lesser-known, but potentially useful, editing and proofreading marks.

What's A Good Birthday Present For A Ninja?

Happy 6th Birthday to Bookninja!

Prescription Strength My Ass

Winter, spring, summer, or fall, I tend to sweat a lot. And gel, solid, or 24-hour, no antiperspirant works. Oh, the deodorant part works fine, but actually stopping wetness? Minimal effectiveness. And that "prescription strength" stuff? Well, I've been using it for a few weeks now, and I swear it's no better than the regular stuff. As a matter of fact, it might be worse. It's all very, very annoying, and quite embarrassing.

Maybe I need to go get Botox to my armpits. That's a thing, you know. Botulism is so useful.

Historical...ish

Mel Gibson "wins" at making "history," though the Times left out a lot of "deserving" films.

(Via The Little Professor)

Skimpy Sunday

(Via Unzipped [NSFW]; Roids and Rants [NSFW]; Bill in Exile [NSFW]; Socialite Life)

"It is a bookstore, not the inside of The Tardis"

Book stores from a bookseller's perspective: A Year In Books.

(Via Bookninja)

What Globalization Hath Wrought

It's a crazy commodity world with cacti in Morocco for cosmetics and quartz in North Carolina for computers.

Forget Slingshots...

...this Ewok could defeat the Empire through the sheer power of cuuuuuute!

Those Naughty Brits

The British Library is a silent pressure cooker of sex! Really, though, isn't just about every enclosed space frequented by mostly adults a secret den of sex? We're just horny animals, after all.

(Via Bookninja)

Skimpy Sunday

(Via Unzipped [NSFW]; Roids and Rants [NSFW]; Vince Lambert [NSFW])

Nerd Hotness, or "Is That An Adamantium Claw Slicing Through Your Hand, Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?"

The Hunks of Comic-Con

(Via Gay Fleshbot)

Too Soon Or Too Late?

Just when you thought the whole Michael Jackson thing had settled into a sedate merry-go-round of custody disputes and doctor-manslaughter charges, here comes the "American Historic Society" to offer you two "historic" lithographs to commemorate the King of Pop!

Back in the realm we call reality, they're old posters from 1985, before he become a total freak, someone probably had moldering in a warehouse in Moldava, shilled by the same voiceover guy who does those oh-so-classy Obama plate and 9-11 silver(clad) dollar commercials. The best part is the balding whitey in khaki pants who hangs the posters in his den or living room or whatever with beaming pride. Way to be creepy and squarer than a Scrabble tile, Dad!

The Joy Of Book Ephemera

I have this weird thing where I like to leave the store receipts I've used as bookmarks (waste not, want not!) in the books so that whenever I go back to reread them, I can see just when and where I first purchased them. I also once took an old book that was sitting outside the office of the English department in a box marked "Free" that had an old letter from a textbooks sales rep in it that I got a kick out of. This is all in explanation as to why I find this blog particularly interesting.

(Via Languagehat)

T-Shirt-A-Thon

Some of these are also too nerdy even for me, but others? Just right.

(Via io9)

I Think Too Much About Commercials

In the terrifying tradition of the Glade Lady and the Ikea Demoness, the Palm Pre Tranquilizer Girl is the latest spokeswoman to freak me the fuck out. Seriously, she's on Vicodin or something. Either that or she's an android. Whatever she is, her ineffable calm and lack of affect while trippy music play in the background is freaking me out, maaaaaaan! You just know those bucolic scenes behind her is riddled with the graves of those she bludgeoned to death with her sexy new cellphone.

Anyway, why is it the only commercial people who do this to me are always women? Is the advertising industry trying to say that women are evil and/or insane, so you'd better buy this product lest they knock on your door and devour you?

Skimpy Sunday

(Via NSFW [NSFW])

Things A Little Too Nerdy Even For Me

X-Wing Pilot Hoodie ($149.99?!?)

Lightsaber Bookends

Electronic Yoda Desk Protector

Death Star Cookie Jar (Actually, I think it's totally adorable and would get one.)

How Have I Never Heard Of This?

DoorQ: The Gay Sci-Fi, Fantasy & Horror Site

Shelving

The art of book shelving is as varied and idiosyncratic as the shelver. For me, it's mostly just about where another book will fit, with a little attention towards vaguely grouping by genre and series or author.

(Via Bookninja)

An Acquaintance In Need Is An Acquaintance Indeed!

As much as I love the merry old whore that is the English language, it does have the occasional deficiency. As Cephelogenic points out, there is a very awkward and glaring lack of terminology for those in that nebulous area between the intimacy of "friends" and the stiff formality of "acquaintances."

I would add as a subgroup of that online friends, including many of you, dear readers. There are people that I know only online that I definitely consider true friends, but there are also people I hesitate to presume to put such an intimate label on, but whom "acquaintance," again, just seems so unwieldy. And there definitely needs to be a word for whatever most Facebook "friends" are. "Random people from high school I want to make sure are doing worse than I am" is a bit long.

Naming The Little Guy

I don't have a name for my dick like some guys do. It's just my dick, and, frankly, giving a name to a part of your anatomy is just silly. The other day, though, I came up with an AWESOME one: Rabbi Schlongstein. For circumcised penises only, obviously, but still awesome. And for those of an Anglophilic bent, how about Dick Whittington?

Do you, male readers, have names for your magnificent appendages? What about you, female readers? Do you name the old bazoongas, or even your no-no cavern?

Welcome To The Table!

A new element for all your geeks who memorized the periodic table for high school chemistry (I didn't, BTW): copernicium! Update your periodic table T-shirts accordingly.

Beach Reads

This list of the best beach reads by NPR is so... NPR. The smooth jazz pretension is coming off in waves.

(Via Bookslut)

A Pug And An Irishman Walk Into A Bar...

I would start going to poetry readings if they all included adorable animals. Puggie-wuggy-uggy!

(Via Bookslut)

Did Battlestar Galactica Have The Worst Ending In Science Fiction History?‏

Yes. And my heart is still in tatters.

What makes it all the more tragic is that, until the last half-hour or so, they could have pulled it off. Then they went to prehistoric Earth and Hera was Mitochondrial Eve and all the Greek parallels turned out to be race memory or some such bullshit and "God did it" but without God turning out to be a big Hybrid or something. *sigh*

Book Display

Thanks to a very, very generous friend, I am the proud owner of a Kindle. Also courtesy of that very, very generous friend, is this Matthew Yglesias blog post that contemplates one of the very important questions of our time: how do you show off your books when they're all in the same slime white electronic device?

It's an interesting point. Book display always has an aesthetic and socioeconomic component: we want them to make our house look pretty, and we want to impress with our taste and erudition. There are people who have decorators simplyt buy books by the foot in attractive colors and appropriate "heft" to fill the shelves of their McMansions and pied a terres. I even once saw a program on BookTV about a big used book broker with a whole sub-business dedicated to these buyers; it's all just color coded, producing an interesting and, yes, pretty visual tableau with row up on row of red and green and white and so on. For a true reader and booklover, however, such things are a secondary, or even tertiary, concern.

I've often wondered what someone coming into my house and perusing my book collection would think, what insights into my character would they glean from the books overtaking every available space, much to the chagrin of my mother. I like to think they'd come away with the impression of a intelligent, eclectic, and, yes, nerdy person that they, of course, want to bone immediately. (Though on that last point, that very, very generous friend pointed out that the whole "living with your parents" thing would cancel the "bone immediately" thing, and, you know, he's right. But I get my laundry done free!) Who knows?

In certain places, at the behest of my mother for the interests of having a presentable house in which to entertain, aesthetics is a primary concern with book placement. Plus, I do like to keep things somewhat organized and neat for simple ease of reference, if nothing else. The books and the pleasure I derive from them are my central focus, though, far and above those of aesthetics or social display.

Anyway, I'm sure, if the Kindle and other ebook readers become more mainstream and push physical books into a niche market for bibliomaniacs such as myself -- which is not a foregone conclusion IMHO -- we'll come up with other ways of trying to impress people with our choices of reading.

It's Not The Werewolves You Should Be Scared Of

Hot amphibian-on-amphibian action by moonlight! How romantic.

I Can Haz Maniplashuns?

Cats are manipulative bastards who learn how to purr to get what they want.

What Might Have Been

Long ago, I mentioned that, in another life, I might have ended up a dermatologist. In another other life, where I wasn't plagued by crippling stage fright for most of my formative years (I'm mostly over it now, though) I might have ended up an actor. I fit the profile: low self-esteem, a constant need for external validation, and homosexuality. I could have been a STAH! Oh well.

Skimpy Sunday

(Via Unzipped [NSFW]; Vince Lambert [NSFW]; Towleroad)

But Will It Come With Genuine Warm, Cozy Fat Tissue?

That tauntaun sleeping bag April Fool's joke? Might just be a reality! And just in time for the holidays, too! I know what I'm putting on my Christmas list!

Let's just hope the Wampa that is LucasFilm doesn't fatally maul the whole thing. Don't fuck this up, George Lucas! You owe us!

Size Queen

For you bookworm size queens out there who just can't gain satisfaction from anything but the girthiest, meatiest books: The Longest Novels.

ZOMG, FUZZEH!

Another bundle of red panda joy, this time Scottish twins! Look at how fuzzy they are!

For Once, My Childhood Dreams AREN'T Being Crushed!

Perhaps it was too much Scooby-Doo and Clue when I was a child, but I've always been really into secret passages. One of my silly little dreams was always to have a big house with secret rooms and passages. Now, thanks to the power of Ikea, it turns out that dream isn't so far-fetched! And all without need for a big, spooky mansion! Truly we live in an age of wonders.

(Via Bookninja)

The Definitive Analysis Of Sarah Palin's Resignation

Something Awful Apologizes for Making Sarah Palin Resign

Skimpy Sunday

(Via Fleshbot [NSFW]; Towleroad [NSFW]; Roids and Rants [NSFW]; Unzipped [NSFW]; Hot House Blog [NSFW])

Mysteries

If we can't digest stuff like corn and peanuts, how do we derive any nutritional benefit from them?

Does anyone actually ever consult their doctor before beginning a diet or exercise program like they always say in small print on commercials for Slim Quick or Weight Watchers or Bowflex or whatever?

Who doesn't want to ride on the disco stick?

"Laugh It Up, Fuzzball!"

Is it just me, or is there something... different about Chewie here? Is George Lucas fiddling with the movies again?!?

Weird Products, Nerdy Reviews

Nerd Approved: Bourgeois Nerd approved!

(Via Gizmodo)

Are You Free, Mrs. Slocombe?

Mollie Sugden, best known as the irrepressible Mrs. Slocombe from Are You Being Served? has died. This is a much greater tragedy than friggin' Michael Jackson for me. I've spent many a happy hour over the years with Lady's Intimate Apparel and Men's Readywear, in no small part due to the hilarious antics of Mrs. Slocombe and the bravura comedic performance of her portrayer. May her and her pussy rest in peace in the executive canteen in the sky.

(Via Joe. My. God.)