Finnish monster metal band Lordi has released their latest album, Babez for Breakfast. I’ll give you a few minutes to put your socks back on. I know I just rocked them off.

You back? Good, because you need to look at this album cover:

Babez for Breakfast. Bitches for lunch.

Seriously. Look at that. That is metal. I don’t care whether or not you like Lordi (that’s a damned lie), but you absolutely must admit that the above is practically all of heavy metal distilled into one obscene work. We’re missing a battle axe and bat wings, but MR. LORDI WILL OBLIGE YOU IN THIS RESPECT!

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I volunteer as a tutor at 826 Chicago. It is a pretty wild gig with kids running all over the place all ready to learn whatever I can teach them. The gig is ostensibly a creative writing program, but we work on homework and art and all manner of cool stuff.

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I just don’t know if there is anything I can say to this. It is a lamp. A lamp made our of clear LEGO blocks.

Have I died? Am I dead right now and this is where you go if you’ve recently been a very good person who just happened to walk into a train?

Thank you, RED5. Thank you.

As though plushy microbes and Albert Einstein action figures weren’t enough, The Particle Zoo has gone and made something else to totally entangle my attentions.

At around a tenner for each particle, it may be a while before you get them all – but you know you will need to get them all. You know that, right?

You’re out in the wild, doing your thang thang, and you get the approach. Maybe you’re at a bar and you should expect this, or maybe you’re just on the train on the way to work; you get that doe eyed look from someone you’ve never seen before – or perhaps you’ve met him/her only briefly – and he/she wants to talk.

You do the smalltalk thing, looking over his/her shoulder so as to draw attention to the fact that you are not at all interested, but he/she persists. We all know you; you’re a great person who is normally not like this but in this one nagging moment you desperately need to tell this person to go fuck him/herself with something not at all unlike a small Buick.

You can’t though because of how great you are. You wouldn’t want people to think poorly of you, right? You wouldn’t want the whole world to know you hate people, especially when they are interested in you. Or, perhaps, maybe you are frightened; this person may have the ability to actually kill you if spurned directly. Or perhaps you’re just not interested and don’t want to deal with the big let down just now.

No matter the case, we’ve got you covered. A little bit of creativity, a little bit of programming; Lex and I present to you Coastertoast.com.

The premise is simple: Give out a fake email address (anything@coastertoast.com) and Coastertoast rejects your would be suitor/stalker. Use your own name! Use your friend’s!

Dig it.