Day #2—Sarah Lipps, Guest Shit Talker

Welcome to Day #2 of Sarah Lipps Guest Shit Talker. Again let me introduce Sarah.

Not only is she a fine and amicable word rearranger for Finelight. She also holds the record for screaming, "Racist Ham Eater" at a gaggle of pigs. True story. Just ask her.

Today brings us, "Please Love to Party?!" again snapped from The Bishop.

Sarah believes there is a story behind this Shit Talking photo...


"Desperately wanting to fit in, Valya uncapped her sharpie and scribbled on the wall the only English sentence she knew. It was the phrase she had carried with her while hiding under a carpet remnant in the bed of a pickup truck traveling across the Ukrainian border. The one she gave to the stewardess on the flight to London. And the one she whispered into her new American husband's ear when he greeted her at her gate at the Indianapolis airport. Please love to party?!"


Would anybody out there please love to party?!? Please comment your love below.

3 Day of Guest Shit Talker, Sarah Lipps

Welcome guest Shit Talker, Sarah Lipps for the next three days.

Not only is she a wordsmithy for Finelight, she also holds the record for most consecutive number of rides on Kennywood's (not to be confused with Dollywood) Log Jammer.

She's snapped three great shots from The Bishop lady's lavatories in Bloomington, Indiana.

First up, "Brandon loves boys gay friends...".

So is Brandon gay or does he just like to hangout with boys who have lots of lesbian friends?

Sarah says, "'Brandon' did not meet expectations for hipster graffiti."

His friends also did not meet his expectations for whom to hook him up with.

Poor Brandon.

What?

What?

Sometimes Shit Talking makes no sense except to the Shit Talker who wrote it.

I either see Pussy Pawn Max or Push Paul Wax or ;adiapojdf Paws Max.

What's your guess?

Run Fat Boy Run. Run Fat Boy Ruuuunnn!

Ham?

A dinner?

A Mad Max reference?

Fuckshitdamn!

Taken from the legendary Gold Star Bar in Chicago, this is one of my favorite dive bars of all time. It's just down the street from a place commonly referred to as "Cut Throat Liquors" because a man literally had his throat cut and bled to death in front of it. So it goes.

Anyway, back to the Midget and the Mongoloid. I've been drunk but never so drunk decided to publicly form opinions about Mad Max in a response to a lovely ham dinner invitation.

Keep it awesome Chicago.

?

I am? Or am I?

So, thus concludes my tribute to The Mag Bar Bathrooms.

This one actually came out of the Port-o-lets behind The Mag Bar during St. James Art Festival. So technically, this part of the labyrinth of the Mag Bar.

Thanks to Schwegman and Meg for some of the photos from this week.

And please, visit The Mag Bar when you can and tell them Shit Talking sent you. Actually, if you tell them that, then maybe a few more people would read this fecal obsessed dirge.

Out.

The Mag Bar Day #5

DOUBLE POST! DOUBLE MAG BAR POST!

"You are beautiful. (Only if your hair is)."

And my favorite, submitted by Schwegman, Shit Talking photo of the week... will be up shortly.

The Mag Bar Day #4

Welcome to Day #4 of the Mag Bar's Bathroom tribute.

Today, it's time to talk about positivity—"You are Beautiful, even if the male gaze denies you that".

Ladies, I know sometimes you think, you're not attractive. Start feeling low. No good. Like that candy bar wrapper you can't get off your high heel, and then two block later when you think you've gotten it off, you realize, "fuck, it's been there for the last two blocks and I walked past that guy who I thought at the time was checking me and my new shoes out but now I realize, he was just wondering what kind of trash whore walks around with 2/3rds of Snickers wrapper on her foot".

Ladies this message is for you.

Even though the fellas ain't looking at you in your beat up sweat pants and salsa stained, 2001 Sr. Frog's Spring Break T-shirt, members of the same sex, still think you be looking fine. Fine.

So chin up.

Mag Bar Day #3

Day #3 of Shit Talking's week tribute to Louisville's Magnolia Bar bathroom, aka The Mag Bar.

How do I even get close to describing today's Shit Talking photo? I really don't think I can but I'll give it a try.

1. "Danny is awesome as Pie." Danny, I don't know you sir, but that fact that you have been compared to one of the things that makes this country great just elevated your status in my book. You have a long way to go before you reach, "Danny is as fucking great as cake" but you're on your way.

2. "Change the world—eat a fart." I'm gonna pass. I fear the taste and also some type of "pink throat" illness which I'm gonna guess could be really itchy like pink eye.

I'm not sure how this would change the world either, since millions of people are already doing this on public transportation as we speak.

3. "Barack 'Barry' Obama". Well I now have a new way to address the president. Fucking Barry. Barry is awesome. Way better than Barack. I dare you tell me one Barry you know who isn't the coolest guy in the room.

Alright, keep it black America and don't go back.

Mag Bar Day #2

Day #2 of Shit Talking's tribute to The Mag Bar bathroom.

"If you clip your wings, expect saggy balls."

Is it a metaphor for marriage? Is it a message of independence vs. falling victim to the "machine"? Is it a avian grooming tip?

Either way, it works for all three.

Keep your wings away from industrial shredding devices, hedge trimers and office scissors.

Thanks go to Meg Tedder for this submission.

A Tribute to the Mag Bar Bathrooms

Welcome to a week long tribute to one of Louisville's true dive bars, The Magnolia Bar (or Mag Bar).

If you've never been and live within 100 miles of this place, shame on you. This is what all bars should be judged by—killer jukebox, stiff drinks, and enough freaks to stare at drunk and sober. You never know if you're going to hangout with emo kids drinking High Life or large men in overalls enjoying whiskey with no ice, reading print outs from the Revolution.

One googling of this bar and you should know right away this is your kind of place or not. "I didn't need that last bourbon and soda, but not getting really drunk at my old neighborhood bar on a brief trip to Lou seemed out of the question. "

The bathrooms are true murals for Shit Talking. Tons of graffiti kid graffiti. A few "fuck you"s. And hundreds of random, bizarre messages. I could devote an entire month to the Mag Bar's bathrooms. Beautiful.

Keep tuning in this week and take some Mag Bar advice and "get your shit right".

-XoXo

Zomething Different

I took this in West Virginia. In May. The last Zima rolled off the assembly line the previous January. Can't believe this moonshine-like malt beverage couldn't even sell in West Virginia... FOR 75¢?!?!?!

Nothing like drinking clearance beer in a bar.

And how did Jimmy Buffett ape Corona? Better question why?

P.S. The entire state of West Virginia is out of chips. Don't even ask. THEY'RE OUT!

Slowly walking down the hall. Faster than a cannonball. Where were you while we were getting high?

"In a pisstake supernova, a pisstake suprenova in the skkkyyyyyy."

Who the hell didn't/doesn't hate Oasis?

I remember back in '96 them being heralded as "the next Beatles". (I hate the Beatles, but that's another rant.) Well, unfortunately they didn't become the Beatles—and by that I mean nobody's been shot and not one of them has died from cancer yet.

Come on people! Can't we get some lunatic to break into one of their houses and stab them in the chest?

Really?

Can't somebody shoot one of the Gallaghers? Pick one, I don't care which.

Why won't some female Yoko Ono this band? I know they're broken up which is a great thing but in the next 2 years, mark my words, one of them is going to have a shitty solo record. And when they do, there's going to be a press love affair and a push to reunite Oasis. Not fair.

How many millions a year do we spend to stop cancer? Isn't it worth $50,000 a year to figure out a way to keep Oasis apart? Can't somebody inject one of them with an African tick venom?

If anybody has any ideas on this, please share. I'm open to some jail time if it means the world's a safer place.

Whaaaayt! Whaaayt!

In honor of the looming holiday and the fact that Pac-Man beats Halo 26000003, I toss you, my followers some dead ghosts or ghosts who will be dead for 15 seconds only to be rejuvenated by the appearance of new flashing cherry or banana.

In other news, check out this human Pac-man

Racist Friday...in 3-D!

How do you follow up Homophobic Thursday?

With Racist Friday. And oh yeah and it's in 3 fucking D.

Today's Shit Talking comes from one of my favorite bars in Chicago. This bar repainted their bathroom once a month because of the level of Shit Talking on the walls.

The 3-D portion of this comes naturally from having one too many Point's—I slipped on something as I was taking the shot. Which leads me to believe how James Cameron created Avatar.

Enjoy the weekend. Snap some Shit Talking photos.

Are you gay?

Congrats!

or

Surprise!

Either way, you win!

(this has been a post, in lieu of Shit Talking's Homophobic Wednesday)

A game that's fun for all ages!

Hello everybody, everybody hello.

It's been a week without Shit Talking? Really? Sorry, somethings got in the way of other things and those other things ended up rolling downhill into the parked 1983 Chevette that is my life.

Anyway, back on the horse.

Who doesn't like a good tickle? Kids, moms, teens, the old guy at the Schlotzsky's Deli drive-thru who serves you a sandwich right at close who, coincidentally isn't wearing pants underneath his sandwich apron—true story.

Alright. Enough rambling. Get back to your work week and don't forget to reach out, reach out and tickle someone.