Blogging on Meds

ESPN Page 2 columnist Jemele Hill has everyone heated with her controversial comments that were pulled from her latest article :

Rooting for the Celtics is like saying Hitler was a victim. It’s like hoping Gorbachev would get to the blinking red button before Reagan.

The column got past her editors with this comment which isn’t surprising because they let Bill Simmons submit the same article every fucking day. Just a side note, does he have a “Sports Guy Column Generator” that spits out tired 1980s guy pop culture references in Men’s Mag Slang centered around a Boston team or his latest man-crush? Bad news Bill, Karate Kid sucks, Star Wars sucks, the Godfather is long and fucking boring and you have Bank Teller hair. Now back to Jemele, in keeping with ESPN Page 2’s style, she’s a terrible writer and she used a pretty raw comparison. Hitler and 9/11 comparisons normally result in someone going “Whoaaaa man stop it don’t go there!” as if some imaginary line has been crossed that could only be crossed by a complete asshole. I don’t have a problem with people making such comparisons, when Katie Holmes’ tits are described as the opposite of the holocaust it was cool and what Jemele did is cheap, in poor taste for an ESPN writer but the Celtics fans, especially the ones that call Boston their home are the ones who are offending me right now.

Everyone is upset in Boston, popular fan site Red’s Army is calling for her to be fired and wbztv.com posted some fan responses yesterday :

“We’re not talking about war; we’re talking about basketball,” one fan outside the Garden said. “How can you compare Hitler to a basketball game?”

“I don’t think you can say Hitler is a victim no matter what the circumstance is. That’s over the top,” another fan said.

These responses sicken me, Celtics fans are as fucking soft as the Celtics’ performance in the 4th quarter of Game 5. Boston Massachusetts is a city that was pissed off that a Holocaust Memorial was being constructed downtown too close to whatever the fucking Bank World Dunkin Donut Garden Center was called that week and too close to the Italian district, the North End. How dare they make us remember Holocaust victims while we’re staring at a statue of Paul Revere en route to a Celtics game (who the fuck went to Celtics games in 1995) belly stuffed full of carbs from the North End. This is a city built on racism, where Smitty O’Houlahan can blame anything he wants on a “nigger” and cops will turn the other red alcoholic cheek. Some area Jews didn’t even want the memorial in Boston because they felt it wasn’t an appropriate location. Downtown Boston is so fat and white that Jewish people actually felt bad breaking up that vibration

So now the poor fans are pissed off and are calling for the head of Jemele Hill the latest goat. It probably helps that she’s black as it’s easier for the city to rally against her. There is a bigger task at hand for the Celtics and their fans and that’s winning a Championship not whining about bad journalism and cheap shot comparisons.

Oh yeah, the Celtics fan side of myself would like to get a jab in though because that side of me is petty, Jemele your gummy grin and bulbous features are as shocking and offensive to me on this Tuesday afternoon as your attempts at journalism. Leave the vulgarity and cheap shot comparisons to bloggers, it’s all we have, you get the pay check, the paid appearances and fanfare, we just want to have exclusivity on swearing and Hitler comparisons if that’s cool with your fat ugly ass. Thanks.

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PISS REPORT SPECIAL UPDATE

Robert Sylvester Kelly has been acquitted of child pornography charges, for real it’s right here. The tape was inconclusive here’s a quote from juror John Petraean :

“Most of us felt that maybe it was Kelly, maybe not,” said juror John Petrean, a Romanian immigrant. “But nobody could agree if it was her. We had seen photos of her at other times and she seemed like a young girl. It seemed like the girl on the tape was much more developed.”

So it may or may not have been R and his Goddaughter in the video but most of the jury (but maybe not….?) agreed it wasn’t enough to convict him. Some Romanian immigrant couldn’t tell her age along with the rest of the jury and that’s all we really know. The most important thing is that there was pissing and dude pissing allegedly had the same mole as R on his back. It’s important to me because I want R free but like the idea of him as a pisser.

Conclusion, it’s safe to say R is a pisser and that my friends, provided the pissee is of legal consenting age, is 100% legal.

Whitey is already upset about the verdict. That calloused hand having, Howard Stern listening stand up guy who loves his wife and family even though he’s constantly touching himself dreaming about the Maxim Hot 100 and flirting with waitresses thinks this is a case of a rich celebrity getting off. We’ve already heard the OJ comparison being thrown around because OJ got off and is a black celebrity. When white celebrities shoot, rape, kill and have a million affairs they are just troubled, usually by their fame and can always get a second chance on some VH1 show but R Kelly is not getting that pass.

My questions for those who think R should have gone down are simple then :

1. Is pissing on a consenting adult (as far as we know) the same as murder? We don’t know the age of the girl so let’s just go on fact, a chick was pissed on in a VHS tape (this shit is so old that it’s on VHS). This is legal.

Pissing on people is totally legal and protected by the constitution (which is kind of awesome, USA, USA!) . This isn’t New Zealand where you can’t show pissing on people (Fuck that place!)

My friend Jamie pissed on me and a few people by mistake on the balcony at Bungalow 8 once, should I have him brought up on charges? The answer is no. You just wash whatever was pissed on and move on.

2. We know for a fact that the OJ trial wasn’t about money as this trial allegedly was. People were murdered in cold blood, most likely by a dude who’s DNA was all over everything, the guy who ran away from police…remember ( though I respect a man who won’t talk to police).

R wasn’t hiding, the evidence was a sketchy ass tape, the victims family was divided and there was money to be made.

I don’t think anyone on earth doesn’t think that R Kelly is fucking insane, if you’ve seen Trapped In the Closet and simply wondered “Wow is this really going to be one song with one cadence for 48 parts? Is this funny on purpose? Is that the dude from the Wire?” you know R is on a different level. But unlike most of us R’s eccentricities are on the surface, Urolagnia is a common fetish, I bet some of your parents, teachers, friends and co-workers like a golden shower or have at least pissed on their sig other in the shower once.

He’s crazy but he’s not hiding it unlike your parents and teachers and I respect that.

Sorry folks, R is probably a pisser but as of June 14. 2008 his only crime is having a weirdly trimmed hairline, even though that’s legal too it’s a crime to me. He should have someone who can give him a good shape up.

Regular skeptical white guy and girl who got pissed on in college and hates men, please stop comparing R to OJ, take a fishing trip or slam a bunch of sugary drinks and make out with a guy in Abercrombie gear that kind of looks like David Beckham while I listen to Double Up in the name of R and his freedom.

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Considering that people want to read about piss and I need a niche, I accept the role of pissmaster and will provide you with a weekly Piss Report. This week we’ll focus on Kobe Bryant and his post-game rant last night after the Lakers failed to hold a 24 point lead :

Whine about it tonight, a lot of wine, a lot of beer, a couple shots, maybe like 20 of them, digest it, get back to work tomorrow. Nothing you can do. Nothing. We just wet the bed. A nice big one, too, one of the ones you can’t put a towel over. It was terrible. Nothing you can do about it. They played great in the third quarter, we played like crap. They pulled out a great win, now it’s time to move on to the next one, period.

That’s correct, Kobe is a pisser. There’s a lot going on here let’s start with the lethal mix of wine, beer and shots. It’s safe to say that Kobe might have benefited from a little time in College learning how to drink. It’s no wonder he’s pissing the bed and getting accused of rape. I’ve seen humans do incredible things after two or three shots, things they didn’t remember but won’t forget because it was witnessed and become urban legend. A fraction of the Kobe equation caused some dudes I know to try to cut a tree down (bad call having a saw in your whip) only to pass out and have a cop wake them up the next morning asking why they were sleeping in a parking lot with a saw while a Honda Civic bisected by a tree was illuminated by the rising sun in the background.

I’m saying there’s no way Vanessa Bryant doesn’t wake up to a Laker Golden Shower thanks to Kobe’s binge drinking, she probably got drenched last night.

Make it rain Kobe!

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Unless you’re a complete honk who still listens to some fucked up CDR with Goo Goo Dolls, Gin Blossoms, and that annoying song from Friends some guy named Smitty burned for you in college you know all about Tha Carter 3.

Basically the short version is Lil Wayne has been all skrewed up sippin’ sizzurp for about three years and making a mixtape every three days. This was supposed to culminate in Tha Carter 3 , his masterpiece. The record kept getting delayed because for real he’s got that stryo cup all day slowing his fucking roll, it leaked, rap dude blogs buzzed and bitched and the result…. according to Billboard, Weezy sold over 423,000 thousand copies on June 10th of a record that everyone already downloaded weeks before. It could do a million the first week and most importantly it could shred Kanye which would make him shut his tacky ass up for a minute. Ok maybe not but at least I can not hear how revolutionary Kanye is for rapping over music that E’d out white people loved in the late 1990s (puke).

The Verdict? Rap blog dudes love mentioning how the mixtape version of a new LP is better than the LP. That’s a given, it’s all they have, they downloaded it months ago, jerked off to it, smoked weed to it and thought about how “ill it was son”, emailed their boys the best verse and secretly added their own weak lyrics in Garageband on their favorite track. These people think Weezy’s latest is just “ok” and that the over-produced beats boast tired and uninspired lyrics. Jesus Christs I hate them. I hate them because they don’t like having a fucking good time. Listen, the average car stereo, party stereo, laptop DJed Party, dorm, BBQ or other random place you’re going to be drunk this summer doesn’t have that fucking mixtape you downloaded off Rapgodfathers.com, thank you. They do have the regular ass commercial version of Tha Carter 3 and you’re going to be fucking drunk somewhere, slurring your words, thinking you’re in a video, picking up a fat chick getting psyched to Lollipop and that’s the end of the fucking story.

You aren’t going to be playing Wii stoned out of your mind on some expensive delivery weed getting your dick sucked by some half asian chick to a downloaded blog leak where dude “is a beast on this track”

Thank you , we’re done. This is a Rap CD and dude raps, sometimes the songs really don’t have a structure, he uses too much Vocoder and the choruses are so-so unless someone is paid to sing them but Track 14 is called You Ain’t Got Nuthin’ On Me, Juelz and Fab beat the track up, they are like meat tenderizer getting shit soft for Weezy to go in on the last verse and kill it, actually his verse is kind of the worst but it doesn’t matter I like the idea of them softening shit up for the Greatest Rapper Alive® When you give Santana and Fab a good beat they shine, specifically Santana who usually gets the bootleg semi-past their prime Dipset Protool Fake-String Orchestra Mixtape DJ beats. So yeah on the best beat on the album he says “You surf board dudes get wiped out, Totally!” Think about that.

Buy this record and support the economy. In my brain if you buy this it supports the opposite of Coldplay so that’s a good thing.

Oh yeah, Mr.Carter boasts Jay-Z and once again, Jigga proves that he should stay retired, not because he can’t rap, because he’s at the sketchy knee comeback Washington Wizard Jordan stage of his career.

Translation, he’s a better contributor / role player than living guitar solo. When Mike made his 7,000th comeback he flashed brilliance but couldn’t do it for a full game (see American Gangster or the Budweiser Commercial record) but when he was playing a role (Errry Day he’s Hustlin’) he was legit and made you remember the dunk from the free throw line. Mr.Carter is the same shit, Jay is brilliant and his freestyle over a Milli that’s floating around is equally amazing. Jigga, you’re on the verge of becoming a real life Joe Camel Cartoon, hang that shit up and just guest on tracks and tour. No bullshit concept records and shit please…please.

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So the blogmosphere is really bummed about this. Formerly faux-hawked super hunk Jude Law had the audacity to make out with a chick when he was wasted and because she’s not a “hottie” by the standards of gay men and fat women St.Jude is under fire here and here and other places where people who don’t get laid bitch about people who get laid.

Poor Kimberly Stewart. Her only real crime is not having an ass and being known as a Hollywood skank which could be major selling points depending on what you’re after. I’m not really sure what it says about the world when Jude Law is championed as “handsome” other than the fact that the world is a giant pussy run by pussies who praise men with feminine features and no scruples. And yes that was my roman nose and Michael Impirioli-esque profile talking.

The Nazis would have never been defeated if manicured eyebrows, man-purses and moisturizers replaced toy soldiers, baseball bats and slingshots. Even the highest paid baseball player in the universe (Yankee Universe too!) has a fully waxed face and frosted tips. The flip side of the coin is some bullshit Maxim Hot 100 list of 100 women that look exactly the same in the same fucking boring way.

Kimbo, I love you. You’re not even that busted and you’re doing a great job pissing off every Cosmo drinking pile of shit who has the ultimate Girls’ Night Out planned for the release of SATC.

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No Fun Fest 2008. May 16,17,18 at the Knitting Factory In NYC
single day tickets:May 16(18$) May 17(THIS DAY IS SOLD OUT)May 18 (18$)
Questions : info {at} nofunfest(.)com

Friday, Saturday and Sunday the Knitting Factory will host No Fun Fest, aptly titled because to most of us shows with more than 3 bands are negative fun but this noise/experimental/non-blogrock summit is worth your time.

The days have been broken down into three convenient themes :

DAY ONE - FRIDAY 16 at 7pm
Former Free Jazz Guy Who Misses TONIC Day

Stage 1:
ASTRO (Hiroshi Hasegawa)
Tony Conrad + MV Carbon
White Out
Burning Star Core
Thurston Moore + Nancy Garcia
Dinosaurs with Horns
Randy Yau
Sickness

Stage 2:
Damion Romero
Handicapper Hornz
Greg Kelley
Jason Crumer
Failing Lights
Sewer Election
Black Quarter
Workbench

OK you still get the glitched out noise of Sickness and others but with Mr.Conrad, Thurston Moore and Burning Star Core fresh off a review in the NY Times here it will be the thinking man’s noise show.

Name of the day : Handicaper Hornz (I’m a sucker for the letter Z used to pluralize)

Type of Weed Being Smoked - Free Jazz mid range joints hidden in English teacher blazer pocket (not hip blazer).

DAY TWO - SATURDAY 17 at 7pm

Record Store Clerk Day / Hipster Noise Day

Stage 1:
CLUSTER
Religious Knives
Demons
Carlos Giffoni
The Skaters
Keith Fullerton Whitman
Nautical Almanac
Nevari Butchers

Stage 2:
Hair Police
Tovah Olson and The Jasons
Alvars Orkester
Emeralds
Cornucopia
Baby Cobra Headsz
Eskimo King
Pax Titania
Afternoon Penis

That’s correct Cluster will be doing their post mid-life crisis thing including being German and giving record store clerks something to buzz about, perhaps it’s the most “musical” day as there might be drums and a few structured songs with the Knives playing. Your ears won’t split as much as you get blissed out to The Skaters or Emeralds and if you make it to Hair Police you’ll be rewarded. Big surprise this one is sold out but you can find tickets if you look, I’m not telling you where because I still need one. There will be nonconfrontational beards here today, better posture and more eye contact you actually have a chance of getting laid, it’s gotta be the drums.

Name Of The Day - Afternoon Penis by a landslide.
Type of Weed Being Smoked - Highest Grade of the three days, you’ll need patience and endurance and want to be sucked into some drones, something called AK-47 or Strawberry Fields.

DAY THREE - SUNDAY 18 at 6:30pm
Official Harsh Noise Day

Stage 1:
The Haters
Consumer Electronics
Illusion of Safety
Lee Ranaldo: Blind Piece #2
Lasse Marhaug + Dror Feiler
Sudden Infant
Edwige
Werewolf Jerusalem

Stage 2:
John Wiese
Cleanse
James Plotkin
Alan Licht
FFH
Ahlzagailzehguh
Halflings
The Cathode Terror Secretion
Shallow Waters

DJs:
Kai Parviainen(Enema Syringe),Tommi of Finland

This is the day for the dudes who hate the people going to the other two days for being pussies. This day is official straight up, it’s going to be ugly, smelly, harsh and grim in the best way possible. There will probably be violence of some sort, people will be bummed out and it’s just not going to be nice. After years of Hardcore and Punk shows my body won’t let me do anything more aggressive than watching sports on a Sunday so my attendance is doubtful but it’s the day I’m the most curious about. I wouldn’t even be bummed if I went and some weird Power Electronics dude beat me up for being there as I probably deserve it.

Name Of The Day - Werewolf Jerusalem

Type Of Weed Being Smoked - Brown Frown Dirt Weed that will give you a headache and make you hate everything a lot.

Info here

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Prior to dawning Celtic Green, Mr.Garnett was my favorite non-Celtic. A lot of this appreciation was centered around the fact that he looked dope in a uniform that incorporated green. It was easy for me to fantasize what it would be like to see him dominating alongside Paul Pierce and making that team legit, I’ve seen enough potlucked together Celtic teams, the Antoine Wiggle, Rogers and Delk jacking awful threes, trades for injured white dudes, etc.

Mr. Ainge made this dream a reality and the Celtics have delivered thus far aside from a perplexing series against the Hawks. My brain cannot grasp why they almost blew that series, I’m hoping that it was as simple as Bibby (who is a dead ringer for 2nd place White Rapper John Brown) was calling in hookers in the form of fat white chicks to their hotel rooms before each road game causing lethargic play.

This post is not about sports, Boston, basketball or anything other than competitive swagger.

As you see in the pictures accompanying this post, KG has not only brought a winning team oriented mentality to the Celtics, he brought a serious swag and a signature look, the sketchy towel wrapped around the neck or head, the premier post-game / bench look. This can also be modified into a look similar to something the king of swag’s Jim Jones, signature new look, which he’s repping on the cover of his latest CD:

Once again my white skin permits me from doing anything this cool so I have to celebrate how good this looks on brothers. Seeing cool black people in green with sketchy towels makes me almost hate how white skin looks in those uniforms, how did I ever think, Bird, McHale, or even fucking Greg Kite looked remotely cool or intimidating in those uniforms when something like this exists. Pasty white skin looks negative cool in anything white and sleeveless, sorry any-dude-USA wearing a wife beater, in case you didn’t know you look like an asshole.

Thank you KG for all your contributions, I hope to see dudes rocking the towel look this sticky New York Summer.

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On January 28Th 1986 I was home from school sick with a fever. My family had just moved to depressing suburban New Hampshire from depressing urban Massachusetts, specifically Lawrence a city that excelled in car theft, arson and welfare scams in he 1980s. After using my best “I’m sick” voice to negotiate the day off I burrowed back into cartooned sheets only to wake up to an explosion on my television. Whipped into consciousness, my haze gave way to shock, I remembered that I was supposed to be in school celebrating space travel, watching the shuttle launch live. One of New Hampshire’s own, Christa McAuliffe a grade school teacher, was to be sent into space along with the Challenger crew. We were going to watch the launch, talk about space travel, eat dried ice cream and then be really hyper. Instead I was at home tripping on a fever wondering what the fuck an O Ring was and how this could happen.
There’s no doubt I was really jealous of Christa, I wanted it to be my teacher or specifically me, I was way more into space travel. Remember how cool that was as a kid, you hated Russians and thought space shuttles and specifically anti-gravity was the hottest shit. You’d obviously do something way cooler than some stiff teacher in space, you could drink Coke that was suspended in the air and do all sorts of cool flips and shit, not look at rocks and measure things or whatever. Regardless 1986 was packed with unexpected disappointments for a lad Living Free or Dying from the Challenger disaster to the Red Sox collapsing in the World Series and my now useless Berry the Bears shirt. These little life lessons mixed with a few yeas of Catholic School have had me looking over my shoulder my whole life for that variable that is going to fuck me up. O Rings, routine grounders, wild pitches, hail marys by a dude with a stuffy nose, a chick with a wandering eye, code enforcement, sketchy friends, it’s a robust list of paranoia.
On 4.29.08 Burning Star Core releases Challenger on Plastic Records (LP) and Hospital Productions (CD). Challenger is robust with psychedelic drones and hypnotic layers that loop, resonate, cut and swirl. It’s lucid ambiance that spins maudlin circles around you then unexpectedly jolts you back into consciousness. Burning Star Core is one of the weapons in C.Spencer Yeh’s quiver that he uses to punch holes in conventional music, creating new spaces and voids simultaneously.  His deep catalog of improvisation and structured performance has put him along side Double Leopards, Comets on Fire, John Olson, Hair Police, Thurston Moore and other noisey notables. Drone, avant-electronics, improv and many splinter factions and tags often remove our most familiar friend the vocal chords. Our ears have to connect to the space created by the absence. Wanton post-rockers take the safe route by noodling away in “sad” keys, rarely achieving more than a rock song sans vocals lacking any direction while avant structures that drone, slash or lay ambient often lack the familiarity or reference new ears crave to stay tuned. The washes of sound and silence of Challenger give enough clues to keep you stuck and invested while Mr.Yeh orchestrates the arrival of the unnoticed variable, the inevitable sharp turn laced in sparsely rich psychedelic sound. Challenger is a perfect introduction and a brilliant companion to a rich resume of sound.

LP for the vinyl heads on Plastic Records
CD for the digital sect on Hospital Productions
Visit C.Spencer Yeh here
Preview Beauty Hunter from Challenger above and here.

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Since September 11th 2001 pop culture has been stuck in a time loop. Nothing produced after 9.11.01 will ever be revisited or romanticized because we all long for the world when we could walk through a metal detector while wearing shoes and a tiny war on CNN that was as competitive as the average Tyson fight.

VH1 is bummed because when they try to make “I Love The 2000’s” they can only go “Hey remember when we remembered dance music and cocaine, remember when we remembered hair metal, remember when we remembered breakdancing?”. So it’s only fitting that All Tomorrow’s Parties ups the ante and puts on the most pre-911 show possible.

This September 19th - 21st you’ll be able to re-remember or misremember the heart of the 90s with a My Bloody Valentine curated festival in the Catskills, NY. Just the visual of that blurry Fender guitar is pretty soothing. It reminds me of striped shirts, floppy hair, and weird chicks. I don’t know if I am really looking forward to MBV08 but I don’t mind giving K.Sheilds my money and rolling the dice. MBV are kind of like the Creation records equivalent of Guns N’ Roses, I’m hoping homeboy doesn’t have braids or a dude wearing a KFC bucket on stage but I can’t rule anything out.

Not only are the key bands 90s bands but some are being forced to play their most 90s material here’s the line up so far :

MY BLOODY VALENTINE
FUCK BUTTONS
POLVO
LOW
EDAN WITH GUEST DAGHA
MOGWAI
THE DRONES
BUILT TO SPILL PERFORMING PERFECT FROM NOW ON
WOODEN SHJIPS
SHELLAC
THEE SILVER MOUNT ZION ORCHESTRA
AUTOLUX
MEAT PUPPETS PERFORMING MEAT PUPPETS II
TORTOISE PERFORMING MILLIONS NOW LIVING WILL NEVER DIE
THURSTON MOORE PERFORMING PSYCHIC HEARTS

A world where Polvo can reunite is not right. Exploded Drawing has a cool cover and a few good songs but there aren’t enough gas station jackets and pocket tees left in the world to give a fuck.

No one will ever convince me to “appreciate” the Meat Puppets, I hated even typing that name it’s bumming me out just looking at those two words together. Let’s hope one of them gets back on heroin in time to cancel the performance.

 http://www.atpfestival.com/

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Natalie Portman, perhaps jerked-off to by more hip graphic designers than any other female or at least tied with Scar-Jo. My Portman time-line goes like this :

Didn’t give a shit, went to Harvard still didn’t give a shit, plays a stripper in a movie where Clive Owen is real cool and things start getting interesting, watch Garden State and think it’s a horror movie, V is for Who Gives a Shit? Back to being not interested, and then Rushmore licked her ass on iTunes or something. Notice Star Warzzzzz isn’t mentioned.

Verdict - Hot chick who is jerked off to for Shins, Veganism, Comic Book and Star Wars affiiations. Things that don’t interest me. I don’t have a fantasy of turning her onto the new Shit Wolf record while we eat Pepper Seitan Skewers overlooking the Brooklyn water front but she’s a million times cooler than Jennifer Anuston or something.

Recently she’s been hanging with Devendra and that was too close to the gene pool for me. If she wants to pork shitty Hollyweird dudes or go to Moby shows fine but dating a mildly talented long haired bearded guy actually is frustrating. I want to write her off as the annoyingly hot pre-cursor to Juno but when she’s dating a Venezuelan douche who plays Tyrannosaurus Rex covers shirtless with paint on his chest I really feel like someone got over on me. Devendra is essentially your annoying “finding himself” trustfund guy that’s someone’s roommate that you don’t really like, too close to home. It’s the tortured artist version of the kiss ass male airhead dude in the office getting the promotion you wanted and then trying to give you a high five.

I wrote Nat off another Pitchforker and was stressed about how Hip the world has become because a real actress is dating a dude like this, it’s differentt than Winona dating Soul Asylum dude because that dude was never actually cool but in some regards Devendra (a dude I’m negative into) did something cool and original no matter how fake-hippie cultured kid it is. There was something rooted in an interesting idea and culture not a bro with dreads looking for someone to shove.

So the few brain cells I had left were freed up for thinking someone else was mildly cool and attractive. That was until the NY Post came out today and showed Nat getting pissed on by a dog.

This is a win /win.

1. It’s the closest to Piss Porn we’re ever going to get with Ms.Portman, she’s not going to ever be featured on Goldenshowergirls.com and it’s a dog which really ups the sketch factor. Dudes flipping around the paper go “Man she is so cute, I want to play her this song I wrote in Garageband” then they realize she’s covered in dog pee-pee and they feel weird. They have a similar dog but a not-similar girl friend and weird thoughts are going through their passive aggressive project manager brains. “Hmmm..should I give our min-pin Sebastian too much water tonight and maybe he’ll piss on my super annoying girlfriend?…is that legal?”

2. Her hippie weenie broseph dude is next to her watching his chick get pissed on by some shitty little groomed dog while cameras flash. So yeah his chick is getting pissed on and it’s not by him, it’s not even a human. Sorry homie, you don’t have a gold or plat record but Soul Asylum dude does, Side Show Bob from Counting Crows rolls with more chicks and there isn’t enough acid in the world to change this. Regular dudes win again.

Bonus Points - She’s holding shit too.

Best day ever.

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Just kidding but seriously, does the biggest “brand” in Sports need to put themselves on Front Street this much?

It started with doughy Hank running his high cholesterol mouth about anything and everything, boasting that the Yankees’ offer for Johan Santana was superior, boasting that the Cowboys are jealous of the Yankees, calling Red Sox reliever Jonathan Papelpon a mouse after berating the Red Sox and a slew of other powerful and articulate quotes.

Then of course, and this really happened, they signed Billy Crystal to a one day contract, it would have been cooler if it was Hillie Crystal but he’s dead, but actually why didn’t they just haul his corpse out and put the CBGB awning behind the plate for a one day contract. They could have Jetes, Andy, Jorge and new skipper Joey “Firery Flattop” Girardi impersonate the Ramones doing the National Anthem

Now we have the emotional game versus Virginia Tech. I am not mocking an absolutely gut wrenching tragedy that obviously impacted so many people but it’s fucking disgusting that the Yankees are now Ambulance Chasers instead of “winners”.

Seeing A-Rod pretend that this was the most important game of his life in his VT Colored Nazi cap, hearing the Captain remind us of September 11th and imagining the inappropriate jokes Shelley Duncan was probably telling in the locker room before the game made my stomach turn.

I wouldn’t rule out the Yankees playing at Ground Zero in pinstriped Fireman Uniforms with Never Forget glowing on the Jumbotron.

Are we that fucking stupid by the way that we’d forget September 11th? Is there some asshole faxing his resume to the World Trade Center right now wondering why he’s getting a busy signal or some Arab guy at an airport totally shocked that he has to take his shoes off and can’t bring mouthwash on the plane?

I’m pretty sure the answer is no.

My condolences to the families who have been through this tragedy.

My middle finger to the Yankees for using this tragedy to promote their embroidered white swazi logo. Congrats, you’ve won some tear jerking face time, maybe they should have landed Santana, they wouldn’t be so starved for attention.

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“Can’t talk now, I’m at SXSW” sent from my iPhone.

It’s that time of year where music industry people respond to anything you ask them by letting you know that they are at SXSW and you aren’t. I’m going to preface this by saying I’m semi-jealous.

Here’s the regular dude’s guide , I’ve enclose a graph so you can understand this mess, essential a shit load of money goes into this thing in order to not make money, I swear to god this is true. The Green line shows the dollars spent, the Doo Doo shows the money made.

Does anyone really understand South By Southwest? Here’s some things that make sense to me :

1. It’s fun. Especially if you’re a music industry peon, suddenly you’ve got an expense account and your job is to get fucked up with the band of the minute. How could that be a bad thing?

2. You have a new label, a new booking agency, or some new thing that you’re establishing and promoting, where else would you hype it but in a sweaty tent in Texas.

3. Established big name labels can get washed up bands to perform (R.E.M., Lemonheads) and show the world that hey “We’re trendsetters! HELLLOOO! You indie labels don’t have shit figured out there’s a reason why we get dental and you don’t!”.

4. It gives bloggers something to blog about. Hey bloggers, I’m not really sure how much advertising you pull in but I hope to christ sucking off Tapes and Tapes, Dan Deacon or The Tough Alliance actually pays your bills because otherwise you’re just telling me about really bad music that is as disposable on the 90s bands on Sub Pop that no one cared to check out despite Seattle being “the” place. Does anyone really know what Skin Yard or The Walkabouts sound like or more importantly does anyone give a shit?

So we’ve established that it’s important convene in Texas in a tent, spend tons of money and give the economy in Austin a major jump in order to succeed in the music business.

Who really profits from this besides hot dog vendors and hotels?

Booking agents - They scout new bands, see who blogs about them , gage the buzz and make calculated risks. No one buys CDs but people go to shows so that means these people actually make money, I know weird right? For some reason people that try to sell you plastic haven’t figure this out yet.

Bands - One feature on Pitchfork and you’ve gone from local whogivesashit to Recommended Listening, this could lead to a nice advance that you could purchase a loft in Brooklyn with or maybe a full career in music. You get exposure, your shows generate more cash, you sell more t-shirts , get free blow, and you’re getting laid. Bands are tied for the lead with the Booking agents.

Steve Jobs - The little rectangle that you store all the hot music that you stole that will break in 2 years is still helping Steve buy the world, he’s killing the music industry more than anyone but let’s face it, iPods are incredible and they look better than a Zune (is that even the name of an mp3 player? Did I make that up). It is a brilliant invention, I am cool with the music industry dying

Those seem to be the big winners. The magazines are dying, I have no clue what money blogs really take in , (hey big labels, pay more dudes to do blogs , remember payola, I know you do this already but get better at it), big labels spend way too much money and don’t get a return, in case you didn’t notice the best selling records last year were records aimed at people that don’t really download music yet :

Kids - High School Musical Soundtrack 2 - 2.7 Million Sold

Old People - Josh Groban - Noel 2.8 Million Sold

Those numbers are pathetic considering punch-lines like The Bullet Boys, Jackyl, Dangerous Toys and Slaughter have gold, platinum and multi plat records…think about that. None of those bands were even remotely the biggest names of their genre.

The moral. SXSW is a good time, if you’re there and not paying for it . You’re stoked, you’re seeing 50 shows a day, getting smashed and having more fun than me , that’s no lie. If you’re footing the bill you’re losing money and basically buying stock in a company that makes VHS machines or something, seriously what the fuck are you thinking.

I didn’t even get into people who refer to “rock stars” by first name ( Oh, I’m meeting Will for lunch, you know Will from The Analog Captians! They just signed to this new imprint of Sony that Devon’s running..you know DEVON who used to play in….), people who are “on the list” and the worst humans ever, people who wear laminates all day long.

Never trust anyone who wears a laminate if they aren’t carrying equipment, period.

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Jean Feraca, I Hear Voices: A Memoir of Love, Death and the Radio

March 13 07:00PM - 08:30PM at Strand Book Store
Located at the corner of 12th Street and Broadway, NYC

“Jean Feraca, Wisconsin Public Radio’s Distinguished Senior Broadcaster and poet, will read from her new memoir, I Hear Voices, accompanied by her son, Dominick Fernow, electronic artist Prurient. The focus of this mother and son duo will be the first chapter in the book, “My Brother/The Other,” which tells the extraordinary story of Feraca’s brother, Stephen, a man with “a life force that verged on the diabolic,” who left home at an early age for Pine Ridge Reservation and was adopted into the Sioux tribe. To carry the text through Stephen’s redemptive death, Prurient will perform dark layers of synths and electronics to create a landscape where the voice breathes a message of existential paradox.”

If you aren’t familiar with Prurient it’s hard to just throw you into a new genre and give you an overview. It’s not like saying “Oh you like the Bright Eyes, man you’ll dig Okkervil River!” plus no one should ever say that. My suggestion is that if you have an interest in thick synth blankets of feedback with structure, tension and dissonance you should start with Pleasure Ground. If you’re a noisemin you know the name, if you’re not and maybe had a Throbbing Gristle phase or pretended to have a Throbbing Gristle phase in order to get laid by a germanic goth chick that was probably into sketchy shit you have some point of reference. If this doesn’t make any sense it I’m kind of psyched because you’re a clean slate and my job becomes easier. Prurient, or Dominic Fernow to be proper has a grip of releases ranging from limited edition cassettes to lathes and CDs. Dominic also opened the New York source for noise, experimental music and black metal, Hospital Productions. The Village Voice has already romanticized the Hospital Productions store located in the basement of Jammyland on 3rd Avenue in Manhattan so we’ll skip over the whole “a dark lair of black metal and experimental music” prose and get to the main course. What’s inspiring and incredible about the store is the care and craft of so many of the releases sold there. While intricate packaging was always been a staple of many noise releases since it’s inception, it really appeals to the early nineties guy in me that consumed any 7″ screened on a paper bag or cover with something glued on it. I know Dom wasn’t into Nuzzle or Mohinder so it’s coming from a completely different head , don’t worry. Knowing that these records were crafted by someone and not a machine adds to the experience. Knowing you can get tapes and records packed with human hair, blood, skin and probably / maybe doo doo adds a new layer. Two Prurient releases probably came out since I just typed that I bet they’re incredible.

Instead of shimmying down the sketchy ladder into the Hospital you should visit the Strand tomorrow night if you are in New York to hear him do his thing while his mother reads from her memoir, I Hear Voices. I’ll be there and I’ll be jealous of both of them as it’s an impressive and unique opportunity. I know your inner NPR voice is telling you what a rich event this could be and at the least you’ll have something interesting to spin to your housemates or fellow free lancers while you sip Kombucha and bash Elliot Spitzer.

Visit the Hospital Site : Here

Pick up the Prurient / Kevin Drumm release - All Are Guests In The House Of The Lord. The only time I was ever disturbed by music was the first time I heard Swans in my teens, I knew there was something mangled and frustrating going on, something that was more shocking than loud guitars and demon imagery. In my adult years I’ve laughed at corny slideshows and drum circles by Neurosis, laughed louder at grown men in corpse paint and became really annoyed by “metal” records that are always compared to “the sound of hot steel ripping through your larynx while you take your last gasp”. All that stuff is bullshit, All Are Guests In The House Of The Lord is disturbing, draining, droning and lucid. You need to let it sink in and give it your attention and it will reward. Trust me I’m cynical, old and a pain in the fucking ass and few records impress me in this way.

Then go here

Read Jean Feraca’s blog, once again get familiar and gear up for tomorrow.

Lastly go here if you’d rather be really pedestrian and read boring reviews by interns that are “so over Justice” and like the sketchy Brian Eno records.

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Irony Has Become The New White Power

“The most influential model in the history of irony has been the Platonic Socrates. Neither Socrates nor his contemporaries, however, would have associated the word eironeia with modern conceptions of Socratic irony. When Socrates’ interlocutors were annoyed with him for behaving in this way they called him eiron, a vulgar term of reproach referring generally to any kind of sly deception with overtones of mockery. The fox was the symbol of the eiron.”

Taken from the University of Virginia Library

You have been out foxed America, specifically the free range fine meat loving, New Yorker quoting, Arcade Fire iTunes only EP purchasing assholes who are snubbing Hillary for PROGRESS! I mean Obama.

A white mouth saying “nigger” might make jaws drop and spark law suits but I’m more offended when I hear girls with Master’s Degrees referring to things as “so ghetto” calling each other “crackheads”, and the granddaddy of them all “My Nizzle”.

As stated yesterday, you hear someone drop “nigger”, you know they are a piece of shit. You hear someone say “my nizzle” and you know they are some honk that has no idea they are saying “my nigga” which is what the man wants. The same asshole who has America watching Flavor of Love, getting balding men who hate jungle music to yell FLAVOR FLAVVVVV at their softball buddies over yellow beer.

Back to Socrates, he was white and white people love irony. We love ironic t-shirts, pilfering thrift stores and backpacking around countries with weak economies (Dude, Pad Thai is 48 cents here!). We love stealing without giving credit. I’m staring right at Good Charlotte who, like any great Rock and Roll swindle, steal from black dudes and eclipse them. Their scam was taking rap lyrics and farting on them so that Juicy Couture mini-dog loving bedazzled cunts would make them the soundtrack to Los Angeles.

Black People don’t dig on irony as much. Remember when some streetwear company tried to recolor the Confederate Flag with African colors and make a statement? Yeah no one remembers because it didn’t matter. Fabolous sums it up for us in his Village Voice Profile :

Even when he comes out on the walkway, he comes out in a Mickey Mouse T-shirt—and he’s supposed to be Marc Jacobs.” The idea of being rich, yet not showcasing that wealth in the most ostentatious possible way, seems to baffle Fabolous. “Maybe he’s attracted to the simpler things in life. I think a lot of black people are attracted to the big names and flash because we don’t come from it—we always looked at material things as a status symbol or the object you could never afford. I looked at this car as that. Now if I ever went back to having nothing, I could say, ‘I drove a Bentley.”

White people acting “ghetto” is funny. Wearing second hand clothes is a nice fuck you to mom and dad and the trust fund that’s about to kick in. We can thank Joe Strummer for creating the punk / rap / revolutionary hybrid that has manifested itself into tightly sagged jeans, iced out medallions, New Era Hats, sailor tattoos and faux-retro Misfits shirts.

The piss bum trying to sell his scribbles is just a “nigger” trying to get money for crack but Basquiat is a genius. Jean didn’t have to live in a box but it was a nice selling point and a reason to get hooked on heroin. Addiction is frowned upon unless art is involved, then it’s romantic. With a few great white minds involved, friendly safe negro art was created and viola! High priced scribbles for all! It was also a safe and cutesy blueprint for fake graffiti branding, paving the way for Obey and other streetwear geniuses.

Where does the Big O tie into this? Young voters who don’t remember how rad the Clinton years are sick and tired of things man! It’s time for CHANGE and PROGRESS! We’re one Shepard Fairey poster away from storming the Oval Office and getting free health care for lazy freelancers! FUCK YEAH! Sorry Mr. SUV you’ll be required by by law to drive a hybrid car and we’ll pass out ironic Kaffiyah Scarves to children to remind Republicans of the blood on their hands.

Why vote for the most qualified candidate, the Clintons and the Bushes are the same thing, HELLLLLOOOOOOOOO. We’re swept up in this dashing, Jay-Z listening, Wire watching revolutionary even though we have no clue what the fuck he’s really about.

Bad news, get ready for a democratic loss. At best Young Revolutionaries, we’re ending up with the Black Jimmy Carter. Sweet.

I don’t know Barack but I know that blind support of him is a form of under the radar racism and white guilt that will continue to erode our culture.

OBIZZZLE FOR PRESIDIZZLE MY NIZZLES!

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In-case you didn’t know some shitty Hot Topic Tarantino Rockabilly Stripper wrote a shitty / cutesy movie called Juno. White people love it and gave it awards. Your friends say it’s a “cute little movie” because they like the mopey bum out soundtrack (Lucky Mag gave it three smiley faces!) and they have a pervy crush on Ellen Page.

In light of Ellen’s offensive job on SNL this weekend including the most awkward dancing and the worst “sistah” immitation ever put on a television let’s dig into Juno.

In reality a few things aren’t being mentioned about this steaming pile of Urbanian Outfitted Hamburger Phone garbage. Let’s review.

1. Fast Times At Ridgemont High is a real depiction of an unwanted pregnancy laced w/humor. No one in Juno is Damone, Rat, Spicoli or even Forrest Lazyeye so why try to trick me into caring about some shitty doughy second generation Garden State spazz chick or that dude who doesn’t know that he’s not on Arrested Development anymore.

No one in this movie is remotely cool or quotable, I hate the words Home and Skillet. It reminds me of Cheerleader chicks constantly saying “cool beans” in high school and the faint scent of the bile rising in my throat that would make me throw up a little in my mouth upon hearing that combo.

This is not a dramedy , it’s a Horror movie. Children take note, everything won’t be ok if you accidentally drop your seed up in a non-US resident, it’s all bad.

Side Note - Imagine if Henry Winkler got a lot of work after Happy Days and just kept being the Fonz? That would be ridiculous, Mike Cera, cut the fucking shit, it’s stale homie.

2. More Importantly, most importantly this movie and it’s adoring fans are racist. The NPR / Mature Indie Blog crowd wouldn’t give a fuck about an inner city minority girl having an unwanted child but slap some indie-folk and pseudo quirky cast in the mix and we’re hooked. I hate white people. Straight up racist. Basically if some annoying cunt that likes classic rock, plays in a shitty band and has a wacky phone we’re supposed to be “sucked in”. No thanks.

Think about the movie First Blood. We’re supposed to feel bad for Rambo. He’s just an honorable white vet who’s shell shocked from the war, wrong place wrong time. Send ANY black dude into the same situation and you get the same result, he doesn’t have to be a vet. Once again a non story. No white face from the burbs would go see a movie about a black dude who gets unjustly harrassed by police and fights back unless it ends with the black dude being saved from jail time by a hunky white lawyer. If dashing Clive Owen got Denzel off, it would rain Oscars.

Do you think cool black people would want to check out a movie about a black kid who talks with a calm NPR over-annunciated cadence with really supportive , well adjusted parents who push him to go to college while ignoring his rap music loving troublemaker friends? Booooring. Sell out. It’s a non story, though some white douche who distributes free condoms on a veggie oil scooter might worship it.

Therefore, Juno….Racist.

I liked it better when you could spot racism easily.

Don’t support anyone inspired by Betty Paige. Thank you.

If you like this movie, it’s soundtrack or leopard print dresses with flats you are a racist.

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Urban Hymns was released in Fall 1997 and a washed out video of a ronned out emaciated handsomely ugly Brit battle rapping everyone on a street shot them into American Pop Culture. Soon fat dorm chicks were making 12 beer mistakes with Smitty to the Verve Pipe and Bittersweet Symphony back to back. Nike , Cruel Intentions, etc, etc.

Tour dates have been announced for their return to the US, let’s revisit 1998.

Essentially 1998 was the year of the Verve in the US, the same year they called it quits. Did you ever think 1998 would be an epic year for tunes? Ten years later it seems pretty fucking important , check out the roster below, keep in mind this is just a summary, there was more shit going down but in retrospect viva la 98, shit was more legit than then Nah Nah Nahs or Crap and Kim or whatever blog crap I have to digest as awesomely Pitchforkian.

Belle and Sebastian - If You’re Feeling Sinister
Has one band blown it harder than these jerk offs. You get touted as the new Smiths , you instantly become huge with your mopey, miserable, melancholy tales of despair and then…yeah you release a bunch of shitty singles and boring records and become just some band. Shitty bands like the Killerzzzz that have gone platinum, what the fuck was wrong with B&S. They probably want to fucking kill Arcade Fire. Don’t they have a record cover with some animal sucking a girl’s tit…did that have something do to with it. G-Ross.

Archers Of Loaf - White Trash Heros
No it’s not Icky Mettle and yes it’s not essential Archers to the average floppy haired former Indie Rock Gas Station Jacket jerk off but this is a great record. The bookends could be two of their greatest songs. Dude says “Flicking ashes on heads of teenage kids with poorly tuned guitars”. Did Sebadoh or Superchunk write anything that rad? Did they do a song that got appropriated for MTV Sports and Danny Cortez? Is that a good thing? Not sure but the record is great and they actually did something challenging with their sound which most bands of their loose genre never did without injuring ear drums.

Juvenile - 400 Degreez
With Mannie Fresh calling the pitches like Varitek, Juvenile and the Cash Money Millionaires put the southern drawl on the map despite no one knowing that the fuck he was saying “You got that check cashing card ha, you got Girbaud jeans ha…you gsdhldsk k sklbs haaaa little boyszzzz run Forrest run Forrest” . They made the 2 Live Crew look like the descendants of the Fat Boys and ran shit hard, this was a landmark in rap, if you talk about the south please talk about Juvy not Andre 3000 and his broke ass stolen wig, Keith want that shit back.

Air - Moon Safari
Remember this whole shit, when boring people who wanted to feel cutting edge needed something new and French dudes like Air gave you a break from Kid Rock. I’m sure plenty of tight Manhattan apartments had this queued up in case some Shout type guy could convince some entry level chick in a striped shirt to come check out his slides.

Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea
Some people really give a shit about this stuff, it makes me feel uneasy like that guy with no eyebrows in Modest Mouse, like I can hear how mentally unstable dude is and it wigs me out. The biggest ripple was felt by Blakebreaker. He went from being in a great band with great lyrics to becoming a harmonica toting Honky that sang about his bassist and beards. Thanks NMH. Couldn’t you have influenced someone I hated like the Throw Up Kids or something?

The Beta Band - The Three Eps
Remember that scene in High Fidelity, that’s pretty much it. See how much music has progressed in ten years? What would they throw on now to sell a bunch of CDs..that’s right nothing because people don’t buy music or go to record stores. That movie sucked but the dude Ian with the Pony Tail played by Tim Robbins was great, anyone with a vest who wears crystal with a loose pony tail is onto something.

Pulp - This Is Hardcore
Yup before Jarvy played mp3s at Shitshapes he made girls with self esteem swoon with his witty lyrics and bravado. Now he’s kind of a cartoon of what a clever import should be. Clever lyrics kind of have a shelf life kind of like OJ Simpson jokes , after you get a few chuckles or go “Oh man, that’s brilliant!” it’s not much different than some Ramones lyrics about sniffing glue. What’s amazing is the album cover, does it get any better? Thank you Mr.Saville. I always thought a Hardcore band should call their record This Is Britpop and have some HC chick getting banged by a dude in a hooded sweatshirt.

Jay-Z - Vol. 2 …Hard Knock Life
Jigga wasn’t always a Brand® that mouthed the words to Amy Winehouse songs at the Spotted Pig doing that sistah neck thing complete with a 24 inch No No No finger wave. Sure Biggie had hits but Jigga flipped the game in that he didn’t make commercial rap, he made rap records that were commercially accepted. Maybe it’s that grating sound of little black kids in Annie wigs stomping on my head when I hear Hard Knock Life that makes this maybe my 2nd favorite Jigga album but it’s a classic. Spring Break rap.

Spiritualized - Live At The Albert Hall
Everyone owns this but no one really listens to it, that’s power. Good work J.Spaceman.

Honorable Mention

Mercury Rev - Deserter’s Songs
Their best record, better than anything the Flaming Drips have ever done, if they had a jokey single they’d be the hot band to like.

Elliott Smith - XO
“That dood that sings the fahkin’ song in Good WIll Huntin is wicked ugly dood, he looked like he was comin from a bendah on the Oscahs dood.”

Cam’ron - Confessions Of Fire
Not even close to the best Cam record but think about that cover and tell me it’s not worth mentioning.

Rad If You Need To Clean Your Dorm
the roots, lauren hill, outkast
Lowercase because I don’t give a shit, I don’t know the names of their albums

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My teens and twenties had a Clintonian optimism cast over them. Being part of the middle generation was rad, you saw Punk fail, Rap explode several times, Indie Rock in the form of Sebadoh not Death Cab For Kirby, basement core…the true golden age of Skateboarding and Video Games, we were lucky as hell. Everything was tangible, the carrot was dangling and you just had to take a bite. Fast forward to the 2000s. I blinked and people I loved reappeared in Jean Jackets, people actually read Motley Crue The Dirt, a Bush was in office, all the clothes and sneakers of my youth became available again and rehash culture began and hasn’t ended. Fuck it didn’t even stop with drugs, retro drugs became hot, out of nowhere it was a snow storm and everyone was in a napoleon stance in a North Face coat. Weird. Grim. The second Ben Gibbard started crooning Phil Collins covers a part of me died and I knew I was old. Music was scratchy and weird to me, I wasn’t a nu-no waver, electroclasher, fart rocker, band camp rocker, indie rapper, IDMer etc. I just liked music. People my age tend to get lazy, we rest on our laurels or guiltily hum Blogrock Anthems and mouth Foo Fighters lyrics while driving to Whole Foods. Good Music for Lazy Thirty Somethings should cure this, it’s your challenge , it’s your savior, or it’s a pain in your fucking ass, boo hoo. Blank Dogs, not really a name that gives you any info, at first you think that it sounds like a band on Fat that you probably don’t want to hear, and they sound fat, they don’t sound like that. They are brilliant, maybe they aren’t even a they, maybe they are a he / she. Blank Dogs don’t play or really exist in the way that Myspace Bands with lofty aspirations do, instead they give away their discography on a blog and turn you onto bands they like. That’s correct, they are wearing their influences on their sleeves, instead of pretending they sound like Paul Simon while ripping off the Walkmen (Hi Vampire Weekend!). Blank Dogs. Go there, give them money and listen to good music, I recommend starting with the Yellow Mice Sleep 7″. It’s not retro, it’s not nostalgic but it’s friendly and familiar, they could be an italian Post Punk band from 1980, they could be playing in a basement in Williamsburg right now and be kind of old and fat, or they could be incredibly sexy, it doesn’t really matter. The point is there’s hope, you don’t have to be washed up, you don’t need to pretend the pinnacle of your life was watching Dave Kendall play a Pixies video, we have Blank Dogs, we’re straight.

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