Druck You, Penguin

Forgive me, little Druckers, for I have sinned. The reason why I can’t post about a Monday night hotspot/Tuesday morning hangover is that I’ve been sucked into the vortex of vapidity known simply as The Bachelor.

Sure, I pretend it’s a social engagement. Watching with awesome pal Kate, eating Whole Foods, wondering aloud if Tenley‘s boobs are real, and if it really is safe for her to fall.

Tenley turns a trick.

But that doesn’t mean it’s okay. Or that I shouldn’t be using the TWO HOURS OF MY LIFE I’LL NEVER GET BACK to volunteer at a soup kitchen or read some Proust or practice the law of attraction to find myself a house and husband. (Or a house-husband.) But I digress. And offer you this, by way of absolution:

Nudibranch. Neither nude, nor branch. Discuss.

“This nudibranch apparently thinks it’s the cutest thing on the block just because it’s the neon equivalent of a drama kid. Prancing around the ocean like you have a spine doesn’t mean you should pose jazz-hands style like you’re in a college production of Fame, asshole.”

Smarty pants pal Adra LOVES the blog fupenguin.com, and for good reason. It’s a sarcastic, profane commentary on cute animals that somehow manages to be entertaining, endearing and ultimately, cruelty-free.

Which is more than can be said about The Bachelor. Enjoy!



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2 responses to “Druck You, Penguin

  1. I [heart] u, FU Penguin. And I [heart] you, too, Mother Drucker!

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