Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Friday, December 26, 2008
steve berra edition sold out. but that has got to be one of the best covers ever. i can almost smell that double double. i miss in and out burger more than a hooker misses a dirty peen. the new york city equivalent, blue nine burger on third ave, should burn to the fucking ground for raising their prices to $9.00 for a cheeseburger combo. well it's a good thing i'm ocd , i probably ate a million combos there before gotham's unprecedented burger inflation.
amy and v-to throwing back some casual brews at the x games, villa villa cola all up in that dirty peen.
SANTA'S NEW MOON
While investigating my astrological Scorpio Rising reports, I stumbled upon several Kenneth Anger references online. Despite the fact that I am always the last person to know about anything, finding partial "Scorpio Rising" clips on youtube have filled me with a rejuvenated sense of curiousity.
Wikipedia had this to say:
Scorpio Rising was a groundbreaking avant-garde, experimental film by Kenneth Anger, author of the Hollywood Babylon books, starring Bruce Byron as the biker Scorpio. It features themes of leather-clad bikers, the occult, Jesus and Nazis. Its camp appropriation of popular culture included an innovative use of pop music, the erotic cult of James Dean, and Sunday comics. The film was produced in 1964 and initially shown on the underground film circuit. The film features no lines of dialogue, accompanied instead by music from popular 50's and 60's artists including Ricky Nelson, The Angels, Bobby Vinton, Elvis Presley, Ray Charles and Martha Reeves & the Vandellas. It is considered to be one of the first post-modern films and an influence to future directors such as Martin Scorsese and David Lynch.
Okay, any groundbreaking avant-garde experimental film about questionably gay bikers and nazis, with martha reeves and the vandellas narrating a no liner is enough to convince me this newfound obssession is a great idea. I have to say that after watching "Benjamin Button" on Christmas Eve, and not leaving the theatre in a trail of my own tears was a giant holiday disappointment. I stood in line for the 7:00pm showing, braving the cold with a practically buttonless coat, and three folded up take five drawing tickets I had won earlier, having spent $8.00 on scratchers.
But maybe one of the few highlights of trekking a Christmas Day movie opening line was the spoiled banter of boring new york city fashionistas discussing the trendiness of steve madden handbags and helmut lang motorcycle jackets directly behind me. But then again, it could have been the old, desensitized guy sitting next to me in the theatre who insisted on loudly suckling his individually wrapped peppermint candy halfway through the film. I mean the sound of that hardENED piece of confectionary getting bullied around in his mouth, assaulted by his tongue, and grinded against his teeth was enough to turn the movie into obsolete white noise. HOLY FUCK. People say I have a knack for glaring when I don't even try. But I'm sure I was fully operating my eyes as subtely as burning concert lights at a Kiss show on this shitsuckling candyman. Not surprisingly, he didn't even fucking notice. He eventually stopped a few excrushiating minutes later. However, not to be outdone by his own bodily fixiations, he began to turn the dial on his wristwatch in patterned intervals. Each intentional rotation more ear splitting than the last. Look, I don't know if I have hypersensitive hearing, but I think I might. Which is ironic because people accuse me of being deaf or a negligent listener.
Anyway, I couldn't take this bullshit anymore. After several minutes I slowly turned to him and said, "I'm sorry but the noise you're making is bothering me." His head perked, responding to my sudden comment. He looked at me with rolls of bags under his confused eyes. "What noise?" he alertly acknowledged. Immediately removing his hand from his watch, he began to check for noises under the coat he had been cradling under his left forearm.
Obviously, I told him it was his watch. But why this guy started looking under his jacket for noise makers still bewilders me. I mean he probably didn't even notice he was having band practice with the most unassuming modes of instrumentation. But he was, and it was intense. His boredom and indifference to the movie had become an audiable wrecking ball. No wonder he was looking under his jacket for things THAT didn't exist, he was probably fucking thrilled at the prospect of finding a missing baby.
Basically, Benjamin Button sucked. Oh yeah. But back to Scorpio Rising. Scorpio Rising totally doesn't suck.
Rising Sign is in 00 Degrees Scorpio
You tend to be quiet, reserved, secretive and, at times, quite difficult to understand. Others notice your deep emotions and feelings and wonder how to draw you out. Stubborn and tough, you fight for any position you believe in. You are very resourceful and formidable when you become angered or upset about something. You enjoy living life at the cutting edge -- for you life must be experienced intensely and totally. Quite courageous, you are willing to take calculated risks. Easily hurt by others, you often strike back with bitter sarcasm. Sensitive and curious, you are concerned with the deeper mysteries of human psychology. Once you have become interested in any subject, you pursue it with total fanaticism.
another anger clip: rabbit's moon
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
FOR SOME REASON, THIS POSTER WAS ON MY MOM'S WALL GROWING UP. I THINK ABOUT THIS POSTER EVERY NOW AND THEN AND WONDER IF IT AFFECTED ME IN A POSITIVE OR NEGATIVE WAY. LIKE WHY AM I STILL THINKING ABOUT IT? BETTER YET, WHY AM I EVEN WRITING ABOUT IT?
I MEAN, IT CAN'T BE THAT WEIRD TO THINK ABOUT RANDOM SHIT LIKE THAT, CAN IT? MY MOM'S HOUSE HAS THE MOST RANDOM CRAP. IT'S LIKE WHERE GOODWILL'S UNWANTED STUFF GOES TO DIE. AN ASSORTMENT OF STUFFED, PLUSH, TWEETY BIRDS SITTING IN THE BATHROOM OR DANGLING FROM HALLWAY KNOBS. STALE'ISH CELEBRATORY WEDDING CHOCOLATES STILL ENCASED IN IT'S ORIGINAL LACED NETTING. COLLAPSABLE PICTURE FRAMES WITH IT'S PRIMARY FAKE FAMILY EXAMPLE STILL LOOSELY ADHERED TO ITS PLASTIC. ALL WHO'S ESSENSES INDICATE A HEREDITARY ATTRACTION TO INEXPENSIVE CLUTTER. BUT I HAVE TO ADMIT, WHAT STARTED OUT AS MY MOM'S CASUAL TWEETY BIRDS FULLY CATAPAULTED INTO MY OWN VARIOUS ADOLESCENT JUNK.
SO ANYWAY, THERE IS STILL THE ISSUE OF THIS WEIRD DUCK POSTER THAT HUNG PERMANENTLY ABOVE CHEAP PLASTIC DRAWERS IN MY MOM'S ROOM. WHAT WAS IT DOING THERE? WHAT MADE IT LEAVE? I GUESS MY SHORTLIVED SEMI-POINT IS, WHAT IS UP WITH RANDOMY, VAGUELY NOSTALGIC, PARENTAL DECOR THAT SOMEHOW MAKES ITS UNASSUMING WAY INTO THE FOREGROUND OF YOUR MIND YEARS LATER? AND IF I TRIED REALLY HARD TO MAKE SENSE OF EVERYTHING, IS THERE A WAY I COULD SOMEHOW LEARN SOMETHING ABOUT MYSELF FROM THAT STALE WEDDING CHOCOLATE AFTERALL?
Double dipped by CURBS ONLY at 5:26 PM
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
GET THE FUCK OUT OF TOWN
BART S/W HEEL WALLENBERG FOUR. SERIOUSLY.THIS IS THE MOST AMAZING THING I'VE EVER CARED ABOUT SO FAR IN MY LIFE. EVEN ONIONS. AND I LOVE ONIONS.
SKATEBOOK VOL. 3. BART S/W 180'ING LEAP OF FAITH? Volume 3 Contents: 1. the difference | by lance mountain 2. brooklyn banks | retrospective 3. bummer high | ethan fowler 4. the life of ryan | a star is born 5. sticker recall | a collective 6. ed templeton | the tempster 7. up the crooks | chet childress 8. droppin hammers | bart simpson parody 9. indy book | read and learn 10. gsd | this is (not) my life 11. fallen | ride the sky 12. tobin yelland | portfolio.
MYSPACE IS DEAD?
SO IT'S BEEN BROUGHT TO MY ATTENTION THAT MYSPACE MIGHT ACTUALLY BE DEAD. AGAIN. APPARENTLY, IT'S DIED SEVERAL TIMES. IT'S KIND OF LIKE THAT DIVE BAR YOU GET SO USED TO GOING TO CAUSE ALL YOUR FRIENDS BARTEND THERE, AND EVERYONE JUST ENDS UP THERE ANYWAY. SOMETIMES YOU HEAR PEOPLE WHINING ABOUT HOW THEY DON'T WANT TO GO TO THE SAME BAR, AND HOW IT'S SO "BLOWN OUT" AND OLD OR WHATEVER. PEOPLE TALKING SHIT. WHY MESS WITH A GOOD THING?
THIS RELATES TO THE MYSPACE QUANDRY, IN THAT, NO MATTER HOW OVER IT PEOPLE WILL GET, THESE KINDS OF TIMES WILL STILL SEPARATE THE TRUE INTERNET NERDS FROM THE SUMMERTIME SOCIOPATHS. IT'S SAD THAT I FEEL THIS WAY, BUT MAYBE I AM A SAD PERSON. IS IT THAT MYSPACE IS DEAD BUT FACEBOOK THRIVES? OR ARE ALL THESE APOCOLYPTIC WARNINGS OF MYSPACE'S END ONLY INDICATING PEOPLES' GROWING IMPATIENCE WITH THE INTERNET'S STALE NETWORKING TECHNOLOGIES? MAYBE PEOPLE WANT TO FEEL THE SUNLIGHT ON THEIR FACES AGAIN, AND THE UNPARALLELED FULFILMENT OF FINISHING PROJECTS COMPLETELY UNRELATED TO THE INTERNET. ULTIMATELY, IT IS TANGIBLY MORE REWARDING TO FINISH SOME ELABORATE PIECE OF ARTWORK OR EVEN A BOOK. FOR WHATEVER AND WHICHEVER REASONS THEY MAY BE, PEOPLE WILL CONTINUE TO STRUGGLE TO ESTABLISH BOUNDARIES WITH THIS GRIPPING MEDIUM THAT HAS WOMEN IN SURVEYS PREFERRING IT'S CONVINIENCE OVER SEX. LORD KNOWS TIME IS NOT ON OUR SIDE, AND THE INTERNET CAN BE A TIME SUCKING, SPIRITUAL QUESTIONING, MIND FUCK.
Double dipped by CURBS ONLY at 4:38 PM
PALSY KNUCS FOR SANTA
ORANGE, Calif., Dec. 23 (UPI) -- Orange County police say they arrested a teenager for allegedly violating a court order by flashing gang signs while posing for a picture with a mall Santa.
Uriel Oliva, 18, Anaheim, faces three misdemeanor charges for allegedly violating a court order that he not hang out with members of his former gang.
The Los Angeles Times said Tuesday that the state's evidence consists of a picture of Oliva and couple of pals hamming it up at the Village Mall in Orange earlier this month.
"It shows three gang members sitting on or standing around Santa Claus," explained Orange Police Sgt. Dan Adams.
Officers performing a routine check on Oliva found the photo of the trio, who were reportedly displaying the hand signals that identify their affiliation, on a souvenir key chain.
As for Santa, he appeared OK with posing with some kids who might not have been on his "nice" list.
"Typical Santa look," Adams told the Times. "Just doing his job."
Double dipped by CURBS ONLY at 1:42 PM
Monday, December 22, 2008
I'M READING THIS BOOK BY TUCKER MAX. IT IS REALLY FUNNY I DON'T CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS. IT'S ABOUT HIM FUCKING CHICKS, GETTING HIS DICK PUKED ON, AND BEING A GENERAL ALL AROUND ASSHOLE. NEEDLESS TO SAY, THE GUY ACTUALLY LOOKS AS DOUSCHEY AS HE SOUNDS, BUT " I HOPE THEY SERVE BEER IN HELL" IS STILL GOOD FOR A FEW LAUGHS.
Those incidents were from back when I was young and cared about things like feelings and emotions. As I grew older and my soul became jaded, I realized that I could be an asshole and get away with it, so I became more risky with my blowjob activities.
One time I was with a girl, we'll call her "Betty." She lived in a house with three other girls, but they were all out, so we hooked up in her living room. Betty was a master of her craft, and especially loved going down on me. She was hitting the crescendo of her well-conducted symphony of knob-slobbing, but right before I felt myself let loose into her mouth, the door to her house opened.
Her roommate was barely inside when she saw Betty on her knees sucking me off like she was auditioning for a porn movie. Betty, lips still wrapped firmly around my penis, hand wrapped around my shaft, heard the noise and looked up. Momentarily the eyes of the two roommates locked, one walking in the door, the other with my dick in her mouth. At that exact moment in time, two things happened simultaneously:
-I shot my load into Betty's mouth.
-The roommate screamed and ran back out the door.
I had not come for about three days before this encounter (that is a whole other story), and thus I had a Peter North sized 8-roper waiting for her. This did not sit well with Betty, especially because she was not expecting it.
Betty tried to take the porn star load, but it was just too much. She was not ready and still trying to process the fact that her roommate saw her sucking dick, so she started choking. Not coughing or a slight choke--the bitch was turning red and dying right in front of me, with my seed as the instrument of death.
I was unsure what to do; I'd never seen a girl choke on dick before. I thought that only happened in rap songs.
After about five seconds of watching her retch, the words from the Too Short song "Blowjob Betty" rang through my head, "A young girl died just last night, she choked on sperm in her windpipe...," so I did the only thing I could think of: I gave her the Heimlich Maneuver.
I grabbed her around her chest just below her breasts and pulled my fists into her ribcage with all my force. After about three times she heaved, coughed my splooge all over her couch and started yelling at me, "STOP IT! [cough] YOU'RE HURTING ME! [cough] STOP ASSHOLE!"
I ended up having to take her to the hospital. Not for asphyxiation--she wasn't choking after all, the come just surprised her and got in her nose. Nope...in my enthusiasm to save her life, I had succeeded in breaking one of her ribs. The highlight of the night was at the ER when the doctor told me that I did a very good job with the Heimlich. Apparently, you're actually supposed to break a rib if you do it right.
We never could get the old magic back after that night. It might have been because she couldn't take a deep breath for two months.
FUN WITH CHINESE RESTAURANTS
While at the University of Chicago a couple of friends and I went to Little China for dinner. There are a few crappy established places, but if you know where you are going, you can find the out-of-the-way hole-in-the-wall restaurants that are really good. Luckily, we were with an Asian girl who was from Chicago and knew where she was going, so we ended up at one of those places.
Oblivious to the fact that my idiocy can he heard outside of a five foot radius from me, I started in with the "You been here four hour. You go now," routine, and everyone laughed, even though they had heard it many times before.
A little while later I walked back to the bathroom, and as I went down the hall to the "Male Room," I passed a door, which was about half open. As I passed I peered in, to see two little Chinese kids, looking at me, holding their eyes wide open with their fingers (to give a Caucasian look), and saying:
"Hot Dogs! Baseball! Hot Dogs! Baseball!"
I laughed so hard, I almost didn't make it to the bathroom.
I'M A DANCER, I LOOOVEE TO DANNCEE
WHAT'S WORSE THAN SITTING IN AN ALREADY QUIET MOVIE THEATRE AND HAVING TO SIT THROUGH THOSE LAME ASS HIGH END, FORCE FED LIFESTYLE COMMERCIALS? YOU KNOW THE ONES WHERE THEY START OUT ALL CINEMATIC, INTENTIONALLY HIGHLIGHTING LIFE'S SUNDANCEY MOMENTS? AND THEN SOME ASSHOLE'S VOICE COMES ON AND SAYS SOME VAPID BULLSHIT LIKE "JEAN PAUL GAULTIER" AT THE END? NOTHING. THERE IS NOTHING WORSE.
THE FIRST MAGIC BULLET
FOR SOME REASON WHILE I WAS GROWING UP, OLIVER STONE'S "JFK", WAS ONE OF MY FAVORITE MOVIES. EVEN AT SUCH A YOUNG AGE, I REMEMBER BEING SO CAPTIVATED BY THE IDEA OF A PHANTOM CONSPIRACY. AND HONESTLY, THE MAGNITUDE OF THE FUCKED UPNESS OF IT HAPPENING TO AN ACTUAL PRESIDENT NEVER REALLY HIT ME. EVER. IT WAS LIKE JFK WAS ALMOST A FICTIONAL PRESIDENT, HIS DEATH INTENTIONAL AND POLITICAL, YET SOMEHOW UNDESERVING OF THE KIND OF CLOSURE THAT YOU FIND EVEN AT THE END OF SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS. THIS PRESIDENTIAL ASASSINATION REMAINS ONE OF THE LARGEST UNSOLVED MYSTERIES EVER, YET IT REMAINS BURIED IN MEDIA RESTRICTIONS AND HISTORICAL FALSIFICATIONS. NOT SURPRISINGLY, HIS OFFICIAL AUTOPSY WILL NOT BE RELEASED UNTIL SOME ABSURD DATE LIKE 2025. EVEN MORE NOT SURPRISINGLY, AN ENTIRE GENERATION OF NORTH AMERICAN, DIRECTLY AFFECTED HUMANS WILL HAVE PASSED WITH THE TIDES OF TIME BY THEN. HOW CONVIENIENT.
'TIS THE SEASON OF MY MEAGER MONETARY DONATIONS. AND BELIEVE ME, THEY ARE MEAGER. BUT THAT'S BETTER THAN NOTHING, RIGHT? WIKIPEDIA ALONE HAS MADE ENCYCLOPEDIA BRITTAINICAS COMPLETELY OBSOLETE. IDEALLY, ROBOTS WOULD BE ENTIRELY RESPONSIBLE FOR IT'S MAINTINENCE AND UPKEEP, BUT THAT IS SIMPLY NOT TRUE. REAL HUMANS WORK TO MAKE IT ACCESSIBLE FOR ALL OF US OTHER LAZY HUMANS. GOD BLESS THEM, OTHERWISE I WOULD HAVE NEVER FOUND OUT WHO MY DAD IS.
Double dipped by CURBS ONLY at 10:01 PM
NO MATTER HOW BAD YOU THINK YOU GOT IT, I'M PRETTY SURE THERE'S A GUY WITH A FIVE YEAR OLD KID THAT HAVE IT A LITTLE WORSE.. WITH THAT IN MIND, IT NEVER HURTS TO BUY SOME DOLLAR STORE CANNED BEANS TO KEEP THAT BEAUTIFUL THING CALLED HUMAN COMPASSION ALIVE
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
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