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.
Are you concerned that you may be a character trapped in a Tom Waits song? Be smart and learn the warning signs before it's too late. Also, it's too late. It has always been too late.
I'm haunted by a recurring vision of a skeleton flipping me off. To avoid seeing this terrifying image in bumper sticker form, I pay someone with a blank bumper to drive in front of me at all times.
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.