Dee Dee and Irma's First Single

Here's our first single, cockbags. Brought to you by daku mata studios and our Magnificent Bastard, Morey.

Enjoy!

Click here, assface.

Sweet Baby Jesus, It's December Already??

Hello to all of our dear cyber-readers:

Many apologies for DeeDee and I being MIA for a little while. You see, it was just recently Ms. Madison's birthday, which basically means that Ms. "Birthday Princess" Madison and I have been on a virtually non-stop birthday bender for the past, oh, week and a half or so.

I myself can only recall mere snippets of memory from this most recent of our alcoholic endeavors (i.e. eating my weight in late-night bean burritos, getting several phone numbers from the bar staff of the various alcohol-serving establishments that we patronized, and chasing a half-naked and fully drunk DeeDee through the Lincoln Park zoo (I couldn't tell ya how that came about even if I wanted to).

I have nearly fully recovered from our adventures; however, poor DeeDee has caught a cold of some sort, on top of still being slightly drunk. But not to fear: it's nothin' a little jail hooch, 'Tussin, and Irma-style TLC won't fix! So, until our household is fully restored to health and sobriety, I will bid you ado and god bless.

All My Love,
Irma B-W


A candid photo of DeeDee and I on "Day 4" of her Birthday Bender Spectacular. We look like such angels when we're sleeping/inebriated beyond consciousness.

Happy Turkey Day, ya bastards (even you vegetarian ones)!!

Greetings on this fine autumn day where we gather with family and friends, glut ourselves on a giant bird with bread stuffed up its ass, and then spend some quality time together by going into deep, deep food comas--all in the name of giving thanks to our pilgrim ancestors who braved life and limb to come to this great nation, where they proceeded to steal the land and resources from its native peoples, giving them small pox in return as a special thank you.

Well, not this broad! Irma Bumstead-Winterbottom is not down with celebrating such patriotic douchebaggery and giving in to the Hallmark Greeting Card mindwashing that gets everyone in such a tizzy about cute turkey paper plates and matching napkins, or greeting cards featuring adorable indians and pilgrims hugging and sharing some pumpkin pie. No sir!

Let me tell you what makes a good Thanksgiving: Sleeping in, watching the local Thanksgiving Day Parade on your tv (no need to go out into the cold to see that shit, especially nowadays when they usually don't even throw any candy, cheap bastards), brushing your pussies, vacuuming your rugs, and eating spicy macaroni turkey helper with a glass of some sort of boxed wine varietal whilst sitting on your couch in your sweat pants. Oh, and there was probably some gin involved somewhere in there, between the vacuuming and the cooking of the Helper meal.

I will admit that I wish DeeDee was here to share this Helper feast with me, but alas, she had to go and meet the family of her betrothed...I still can't remember his name, but he likes gin and juice so he's alright in my book.

Well, enjoy the rest of your food comas, ya bastards, and I'll be here when you wake up and find yourselves bloated and constipated and remorseful for eating that extra slice of pumpkin pie loaded with real whipped cream, even though you know you're lactose intolerant and now will be shitting through a screen for the next several hours.

Enjoy the rest of your holiday before the heart burn sets in,
xoxo,
Irma Bumstead Winterbottom,
along with Amelia Bumstead-Winterbottom & Maya Madison, Jr. Esq.

I'm a little better off than DeeDee...

Kids and their crazy music these days...

Dear lord and all of his chorus of angels on high!

DeeDee and I have both nearly suffered multiple seizures from watching this year's American Music Awards--so many strobe lights and lasers! Reminds me of my raver days, but that's neither here nor there...

Also, DeeDee and I are completely bewildered by the abundance of leotards, nonsensical backup dancers, and heinous wardrobe choices by Rhianna (who thought a be-dazzled pirate eye patch would really be a good idea??). And what's with all of this hype about these alleged "Jonas Brothers"? My god, they are all 10 years old with testicles that haven't even dropped yet!

I just don't know about you kids these days...what happened to decent, palatable music that made sense and touched the soul (i.e. classics like Clarence Carter's "Strokin'" and Warrant's "Cherry Pie")? Again, we just don't get it. Ergo, we are both retiring for the evening after our usual Sunday night skin-exfoliating ritual and mud masks.

God bless and please, please make good wardrobe choices. Or else we will find you. And mock you. Without mercy.

xoxo,
DeeDee & Irma




Mr. Carter, you can take my temperature any day of the week. Mmm...mmm...mmm!

A Blessed Day.

Ah, I can now sleep soundly knowing that the Vatican has finally officially forgiven John Lennon for saying that The Beatles were bigger than Jesus like, 40 years ago. Whew! What a relief. Glad the Catholic faith finally got that one sorted out! What a bunch of wieners. Not all of you Cathies out there; just the ones who take decades to decide officially that Mr. Lennon's comment was merely "a 'boast' by a young man grappling with sudden fame. Get over yourselves and lighten up. That's my mantra, and I'm stickin' to it! Anywhoodle, DeeDee's out somewhere caterwauling and no doubt wreaking of gin in some Chicago alley right now. But I never worry about her--she has keen survival skills and always finds her way home. Like a cougar. I, on the other hand, am aweary of this mad, mad world and am thusly retiring to bed with my pussy.
Amelia Bumstead-Winterbottom and I wish you all a very good night and God bless us, everyone (John Lennon now included).

Kisses,
Irma B-W


Really, how can a person stay mad at such a kooky guy who literally cares about the earth?!

Ugh.

Good Christ almighty.
I ate my weight in Chicago-style stuffed pizza and then I just watched the horror classic "The Fog" which scared the crap out of me and made me want to poop but I can't because I've got a cheese clog. That's all I've got for you. Yours truly has not a spot of wit left in her body so all you get is TMI updates on my bodily functions.
On that note, I wish you a good night and may the morn bring me looser bowels.
That is all.
xoxo,
Irms



Above: The culprit.
Oh, stuffed pizza. You demon in disguise as an angel. A sauce-slathered, cheesy angel. My bowels curse thee!