The ladies pictured at Damsel in Distress are not in real danger, unless you consider the dire straits that would lead a woman to accept $25-60 for being buried up to her head (if not completely submerged) in mud and having the subsequent photo available in perpetuity for the lascivious pleasures of "a very specific fetish community." While this might seem like a shallow niche, the Damsel in Distress producers concoct manifold scenarios that lead to hapless women wallowing in dark ooze. Never has so much creativity been exhausted for such dubious ends. Not all the "actresses" possess the dramatic range to communicate mortal terror at the prospect of sinking in quicksand, and that little-girl-playing-in-puddle giddiness, in conjunction with the elaborate plots, makes Damsel in Distress seem like a relatively respectable workplace. The dirt-asphyxiation of women couldn't be staged in a classier way. That said, no man could display these images without looking like a fucking freak.
A thousand years ago, dudes were dying from splinters, but now the wizard potion that cleans our light wounds costs less than a Dr. Pepper in 1994. I love this medicinal 7up.
U2 and Apple have conspired to place a U2 album into your music in the year 2014. You own a U2 album. And you can't get rid of it.
Ron Paul spins in his chair, trying to grab his decorative antique musket but Freddy gets it first.
Awful Links of the Day spotlights the worst and weirdest websites on the internet. And we're not talking "weird" in a good way either.