Rodrigo's Pension

He's Okay

2007-06-04T13:11:00.000-07:00

I Smashed My Aloe Plant

2007-06-02T16:21:00.000-07:00

“Have you ever tasted bong water by accident?”

Flaming Anonymity

2007-05-24T15:34:00.000-07:00

I I I I I I DOOOO THIIIIIIIIINGS!!!!!!! That felt good. See you later Gringos! More soon.

L,P

Never Sleep

2007-01-19T16:42:00.000-08:00

The Best Of 2006

2007-01-01T20:56:00.000-08:00

1. Arm-wrestling with, I think, Paul Anthony of Full Force (Front row, white headband).

Mass Appeal

2006-12-13T18:49:00.000-08:00

Is it at all possible that Jay-Z hasn't met DJ Premier? No way, right?

Please Save This Child

2006-12-13T14:58:00.000-08:00

Go here to save a person's life, for real.

J. Robbins, who's made or helped make some of the best rock records ever, has a baby boy named Cal with Infantile Spinal Muscular Atrophy. Insurance can't cover Cal's bills and the Robbins' need our help. So let's give it to them.

NO LCD

2006-12-13T08:39:00.000-08:00

French dude, Surkin has a great mix up at the Institubes blizzog today. As much as I love the Nike+LCD jazzercizery, this is more what I'm looking for in my workout tape: zero warmup, zero cooldown, super duper hyphyhyphy because, let's face it, exercise for me is just a 30-minute series of motivational insults. "You don't deserve to hold that Power Bar, you lumpy sack of shit! Work it, scumbag!" etc. There's no actual working out, just attempts to humiliate myself into working out. So, I need happy house and shit like that, which Surkin provides graciously. Thanks, man.

No bad news today. All is well.

Wassup Suckers

2006-12-12T19:23:00.000-08:00

I don't know about this "like you" shit, but 3-point-3 stars is most definitely not me. Yeah, Tulsa, Kids, maybe even Bully, I'm with you. Wassup Rockers, though, is Crash for cool kids. See for yourself because I'd really like someone to tell me how this movie isn't Larry Clark being total wanker hack. "We just came here to skate," and stuff. GOD! Larry, make a movie about saggy paunches and perverts, for once. Something from the heart. You've nothing left to say about children.

If you're determined to watch this movie, definitely rent Over The Edge, and let me know which you think is more poignant. Shit, rent Foxes! That movie is stoopid good. Or any of the following: Mi Vida Loca, Quinceanera, Mi Familia, Blood In, Blood Out. I don't know. Watch them all in one day while high or drunk, and maybe you'll remember enough parts of each for one epic film about kids in Los Angeles.

The thing about Rockers, not Rockers (<--awesome), is if it's Larry trying to be self-deprecating, commenting on white people's, and his own, laughable exoticization of brown people, it's not biting enough. If it's Larry being a hypocrite, then it's just annoying. Either way, wait for the Clint Eastwood part and tape your eyes down because they're likely to roll out of your skull. Michael Moore is more nuanced.

My point being, why can't someone just make a good movie about Latino skate culture in Los Angeles? Is there not a real story there? Larry seems to not think so, just a bunch of kooky rebels who face death daily and look at the world through big, sad brown eyes. BUT, they smile through it because they're from the ghetto and they don't care what we think. I call bullshit on you, Larry. A year too late, but I don't care what you think, either. The only thing Clark gets right is the fashion, but anyone can walk sub-Sunset and nail that. He ruminates on his young stars in the first part of the movie, when they're in said ghetto, but completely abandons their humanity when he takes them on a whirlwind tour of Beverly Hills. Hey America, did you know that rich, white people are obnoxious predators and insensitive assholes? I'll say! Clutching major pearls over here.

Tomato, Potato

2006-12-11T22:18:00.000-08:00

Hmm…

No ice at the North Pole by 2040.

UN downgrades man's impact on the climate.

Anyway, my friend Brendan sent me an email today with the subject: "We fly high, no lie, you know this." The entire body of the email was: "BALLING!" It was, without a doubt, the best email I've gotten in 2006, particularly because it assures me that my life on the internet is not all that disconnected from life on the outside.

Speaking of being outside, if you ever need to live in your car, here's how to do it.

If/when the oil runs out and cataclysmic weather destroys all liveable dwellings, this post will be invaluable. Except for the balling part. That's just for me.

Free Clipse

2006-11-28T09:13:00.000-08:00

We can actually buy Clipse's album today, and considering how long it took for that to become a reality, it would be wise if we did. Let's help Clipse spend rap money!

Stream Hell Hath No Fury on theirspace, then buy it and get a free Clipse remixtape assembled by DJ Benzi.
Amazon has it for cheap.
iTunes has it for less than a bag of soap shavings
Zune prolly has it, too. Go "squirt" it on a friend or stranger.

Reviews:
XXL gives Hell Hath No Fury a XXL
Pitchfork gives it a 9.1
And a bunch of suckers in between who aren't sure if they're allowed to love it or not. No time for them.

It's not about cocaine, people. Purchase.

UPDATE: CloudHopper, It is, and it isn't. Coke, crime and ruthlessness as metaphor for survival despite institutions designed or neglected to the point where young, black men are fucked to the fullest. Love, as in the absence of it, from anyone, except blood. Two brothers, each representing the old/new era of rap, conflict/no-conflict of talking foul. Coke as a rhetorical device, as it's always been in rap; could be anything, but coke has the best art history. Coke/crack sales a more disturbing, intentional and thought-provoking appropriation from the oppressor than "nigga." Crime as romance since the cave paintings. Respecting the artist as an artist. Bret Easton-Ellis is NOT A PSYCHO. Colin Meloy is NOT A MARINER. Tom Hanks is NOT AN ASTRONAUT. Hidden rap nerdery, rapping like Shyne on "Ride Around Shinin'". Cohesive statement: beats, rhymes, image. No club. No r&b. No Coldplay. No disappointment. Blah, blah, blah. (More…)

Humpbacks And Hunchbacks

2006-11-27T23:19:00.000-08:00

From Ms. Terry via Ms. Escobedo Shepherd:

"Remember to heed the words of Henry Thoreau: 'Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.'"

Okay.

Peace Is Evil

2006-11-27T09:45:00.000-08:00

Lisa Jensen hates the troops and/or Jesus.

And because I couldn't not post this…

We'll Succeed Unless We Quit

2006-11-17T11:48:00.000-08:00

Word is bond, Dubs.

In case you were wondering, we succeeded in Vietnam by getting tha fuck out of Vietnam, abandoning the government we propped up with cannons, ignored the oppressive regime for three decades, only to return when they offered to let us get stuff for cheap.

So in 2036, when President Bush III voyages to Baghdad to sign a trade pact with Prime Minister Zarqawi, we will have succeeded in Iraq, as well.

Be patient, America!

UPDATE: If you'd like to learn more about the lessons our leaders have learned from America's War in Viet Nam, watch the full March 31, 2006 episode of the Charlie Rose show on google video. Listen to the Army man talk about the low casualty numbers from March, and keep in mind his comments regarding the difference between Iraq and Viet Nam being a defeat in Iraq would destabilize the region and threaten our security in the U.S. when a defeat in Viet Nam did neither. Then, go rent Hearts & Minds, an invaluable 1974 documentary about the War in Viet Nam with interviews of politicians saying that defeat in Viet Nam would destabilize the region and threaten the security of the United States.

You Are A Racist If You Read This

2006-11-16T19:39:00.000-08:00

I would've thought this was obvious, and maybe it is. Maybe most people get it, and the ones who are angry just want attention. Nothing new.

But if not, if people really don't or didn't understand the motives behind Baron-Cohen's "Borat" character, then maybe people are dumber than I thought. That's hard to believe, though. Spend one minute on a messageboard of any topic that has no registration restrictions, and you'll find yourself neck deep in, eh, racially and sexually insensitive banter. There's no misunderstanding there. The anonymity is a release. Talking about video games or whatever is just a pretense. Ooh, you like that movie, too? You're just like me.

So check those boards. Or do what I do. Get a crappy job. Crappy jobs are the messageboards of reality, only the job itself is the pretense. You show up, keep your cards close, and eventually, someone will tell you how lazy black people are, how gays are preverts or how little girls are supersexy. And each time, the comment will be prefaced with, "Listen, I'm not a ________, but…"

Here's an example: "Listen, I'm not a racist, but I can't stand niggers."

Crazy, right? Nobody would say that. Except somebody did say that. To me! Of course, I was aghast, and I chided the offender with vigor. How dare he assume I would be receptive to such filthy ignorance? But here's the thing: that dude was fresh out of California Institution for Men, commonly referred to as "Chino", a prison where rioting is an acceptable form of rehabilitation. I was a non-black co-worker who ate lunch with him everyday. That was all the confidence he needed. So, although his comment was absurdly ignorant, it wasn't so much shocking that he would say it as much as say it so casually in a public place to me. But that guy was just a more egregious example of the kind of barely latent bigotry in most of us. Not you, of course. The rest of us. You love everyone equally. You had a gay black crack-addicted paraplegic hermaphroditic great-great-uncle-cousin with elephantiasis and a cleft palate who converted to Islam from NAMBLA, so you understand the plight of the afflicted.

But the rest of us hide our bad thoughts in little velvet boxes, waiting for someone like Borat to come along and give us a reason to shine our crazy ignorant diamonds, whatever their cut and clarity. Unfortunately, now that Sascha Baron-Cohen feels like he needs to apologize for his art and has to defend himself against litigation filed by people he forced to be themselves, our collective jewels just got clutched.

And I haven't seen the damn movie yet. Accepting invitations.

UPDATE: No, I did not work on Seinfeld.

Hell Hath No Fury

2006-11-15T15:35:00.000-08:00

Gas up, little babies.

Clipse and the Neptunes made the vilest rap record in a very long time. And I'm not guessing.

Go buy it on November 28th with your turkey money. Stop snatchin'.

Sorry, non-rap peoples. You should buy it, too.

Backyard Insurgency

2006-11-08T18:39:00.000-08:00

Hooray, Inc., etc. but let's not gloat. Push things forward. Still, sometimes the news, or the actions taken by world leaders covered by the media, intertwines with one's own life in a way that can be both hilarious and frightening. Case in point: yesterday, when President Bush, shoulders slumped and smile upside-down, announced Robert Gates as the new Secretary of Defense, I let out a whoop of shocked guffawkitude because I knew that dude. Not knew him like we worked together in Afghanistan or I washed his Town Car on Sundays, but knew him as in he almost had me killed one time. Now, I've been shot near and sort of at a couple times, but usually not on purpose, so I hold no grudge, nor do I use my experiences to get you stuck off the realness. Shit was scary.

However, if and when I get the opportunity to tell this story, I do, unless my mom's around because she would be horrified. But Mommy don't surf, so here we go. Back when Gates was director of the CIA, he lived in the same suburban Virginia neighborhood as one of my best friends. It wasn't a big deal. Almost every decent neighborhood in northern Virginia is home to someone important. But not every neighborhood backs up to an easily accessible, undeveloped, wooded area far enough from homes and roads for a handful of teenagers to party like it's a wedding reception with little fear of adult intervention. Gates and my friend's neighborhood did, and those woods were our high school Shangri-La. We would park a half-mile away, cross a creek and walk down a long path to a small clearing where we would sit around bonfires and drink the cheapest beer one of us could buy with his laughable fake ID (best we did was $5.99 for a case of warm Meisterbrau, which forever tastes like your first ever sip of beer). At one point, we found an old bathtub and humped it back to the clearing to use as a massive cooler. We would have small parties during the summer and make invitees promise not to use flashlights or play their car stereos too loud as they came and went so as to prevent detection. Pretty good time.

So one night, one of my friends invited these girls we didn't know all that well to the woods. We sat around for a while not really partying, just relishing being able to party if we felt like it. At some point, I had to get something from my car, so a couple of us walked back down the path toward the creek. When we got to about 50 yards from the trail opening, I noticed two strange lights in the brush across the creek. The lights were a dim green, closely paired like eyes, and they were looking right at us. Being teenagers, we smelled bustation, so we turned back and ran to the clearing. We told everyone about the lights, guessed they were night-vision goggles, probably the cops, and decided to get out. Like I said, it was my friend's neighborhood, so he recommended we cut up the hill through the woods instead of back out to the cars. We could go to his house and wait for the pigs to cool it, etc. So we did that.

We started up the hill with these girls, scaring them shitless, I'm sure. The lights weren't visible below us anymore, so we kind of relaxed but were still staying quiet and keeping our flashlights off. And then all of the sudden, a voice directly ahead of us said, "Stop right there!" I never knew until that moment that the "hands up" move was as involuntary as a blink. A bright, brightass light flashed in my face, and I winced. The voice asked what we were doing, and as I looked to answer, I saw the outlines of two big dudes holding two big guns. I think I said, "Nothin'" or something awesome like that, but before I'd even had the time to pee myself, the big dudes had lowered their big guns, realizing they probably weren't facing some rogue band of beerchugging terrorists. They led us up to the cul-de-sac that Gates lived on, making fun of how scared we looked the whole time, totally ruining any chance of shenanigans with our new ladyfriends. But whatever, I'll take sassy Delta Force over a missing skull any day of the week. Honestly, I think we all ended up making out anyway.

I can only imagine the bloodthirst of the security detail assigned to the director of the CIA, so I would like to thank those dudes for not wasting us. I would also like to thank the woods for being awesome. And finally, I'd like to thank Robert Gates for accepting a position I'm sure he didn't want and leaving a position I hear he loved (president of my brother's alma mater). More importantly, I'd like to suggest that he show as much mercy to the people of Iraq as he did with drunk teenagers all those years ago.

Have Faith

2006-11-07T07:16:00.000-08:00

But make sure to vote…

… because you never know who might win if you don't. (Thanks, Brendan.)

I Don't Know Everything

2006-11-05T08:44:00.000-08:00

Ahh, that felt good to type. I might put that on a business card. I might make it my new daily affirmation in place of "Uggh."

I'm going to ask you all to do something that I would normally never ask. Over the next three days, maybe four, will you please not watch television, read the internet, read the newspaper or listen to the radio unless it is absolutely necessary? It's a big request, I know, but I believe in you. Instead, go outside, or if it's cold, go to a museum or library(here's where to find one) or restaurant or whatever. Leave your home, and clear your mind. Talk to a stranger. Jump in a pile of leaves. Sit under tree or in front of a fire and reread a favorite book. Listen to one album you think you like until you know if you do or don't, and then do it with another one. Sign up to volunteer at VolunteerMatch (and then get offline). Ask someone out on a date (can't help you there). Hang out with friends. Go see some family. Work. Don't work. Stare at the wall. Do whatever. Then, on Tuesday, vote.

The idea is this: whatever it is you would like your politicians to do for you, you can do yourself. And you definitely don't need some asshole telling you how to do it or who is going to do it for you (/irony). Yes, you are all gifted, intelligent, enlightened minds-- I mean, you're reading this-- but sometimes even the most gifted, intelligent and enlightened minds need a simple reminder to live a little. For inspiration, watch the Einstein biopic, I.Q. a) because it is accurate and true, b) because it stars the proto-Bill Murray, Walter Matthau, and c) because Meg Ryan is maybe the most influential actress of the last 25 years. I'm not kidding. Oh, and d) Tony Shalhoub and Frank Whaley as mechanics. Tagline: "Think love." Get it?

Alright. See ya Wednesday.

UPDATE: Yeah, sorry about this post. I had a weird reaction to Elizabeth Dole (R-NC) on "Meet The Press" this morning. I didn't really have a problem with the woman until today, but you know, I never really had a problem with hayfever until I helped mow the lawn when I was 4-years-old. I ended up sleeping in a bubble for a few days after that one. Uncomfortable, sure, but not on the level of this post. I mean, do all those things up there if you feel like it, but Jesus, "jump in a pile of leaves"? Do whatever, but first, watch this video…

Speed Rub

2006-11-03T15:07:00.000-08:00

Let's say you've met someone you like. I mean, you really like him or her. But he or she is not your usual type, and you're worried that your friends and family won't give him or her a chance because they have ideas of who would make you happy, and sometimes those ideas may not jive with your own ideas of happiness. Sometimes you're not even sure which ideas are yours and which are theirs. So you hide him or her from them, to protect him or her, and yourself. You steal your happiness from him or her instead of sharing it with the world. And, out of respect to him or her you tell him or her, but mostly out of fear of intimacy, you limit the physical relationship to light petting, maybe the occasional massage. But the guilt of your dishonesty and selfishness eventually drives a wedge between you and your special friend, and that wedge eventually splits the love built between the two of you. But before all of that, before the rift, in the midst of your private love, your nights with him or her are cherished things. You want to feel alive, to be alive every moment you are with him or her just massaging. So you buy some meth, right? You buy some meth because it helps you relax.

The Tears Of A Publicist

2006-11-02T08:02:00.000-08:00

Double-epic repost from Ms. J. Hopper, freethinker and staunch advocate. Don't let the ALLCAPS fool you, Teardrops is the truth. This is a must-go for anyone in NYC TONIGHT, THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 2006. I'll even repost the cat. A MUST GO.

Also: Even if you don't roll with the baldytails and chicken marsala (courtesy J-Shep), please, please, please go check Lavender Diamond at Joe's Pub on Friday. I promise you will not be the same again.

Epic repost, but w/e. Teardrops is the folk (no s) who is putting out My Art Book. Barr, First Nation, No Age and Soiled Mattress is a bill honestly worth about $22 AND SHIZ IS FREE INSTEAD. Eff CMJ with 50 feet of dirty lawn hose, leave the Shins cover band jizz prom yr supposed to go to tomorrow, and go to this. Here, in all it's glory is the life affirming invite.

Beyond TEAM: such a moment! aNYthing/RockersNYC/teardrops/aNYthingGoes present:
PPPPlease join us as the coasts collide, the community unifies and the whole team (that is ALL OF US) triumphs!
...backstory so fast: CMJ is a moment when the independent and not-so-independent music worlds converge on NY, freaking out about "who is next" and
charge hundreds of dollars to people from all over the world for badges to shows with long lines that nobody gets into and everyone stresses on the hype... basically, everyone knows its fucking torture with diminishing returns... and its... this weekend!
but the flip side: if you are in a band- even the noble-est band- you kind of "have" to participate, so this means that among the bullshit there are real rad things/people/uits converging on NY at the same time... and sometimes these people reclaim and take advantage... THIS IS NOTTICE OF A NON CMJ TRIUMPHANT MOMENT!
Here it IS
This Thursday, Nov 2
BARR (LA)
First Nation (NY)
No Age (LA... and btw, it is actaully a known fact that this is the best band in LA)
Soiled Mattress and The Springs (NY)
...and DJs Rockers NYC (NY)
are all converging on 205 Chrystie St (aNYthing Goes... you know this!) from the early hours of 6:00pm-10:00 pm to perform and make a deffffinative document... produced by aNYthing! Yess! REAL TALK! Please come, its FREE! The show will be taped and super documented and and everyone there will play a part with their presence and energy!! It is early because this shit is major, like, too hott for full nite... quasi daylite... seriously, strictly from 6:00-10:00 but fully FREEE! and seriously, full disclosure, this lineup represents a probably once ever unifying of two cities' four most intense sub-teams! This is an event that people will look back on and just be all "whoah... that really went down? I'm glad there is s DVD!" ...So get your ass in the front row... or the background even! Show up to Show OUT! The bands will be there but the bands are nothing without the total team! These bands feed on fucking energy! PLEASE BRING IT! Its fucking ON! aNYthing is taking it there... the illest weirdo summit ever commited to video!
... and fucking bonus surprise... if you are there for this you will be guaranteed entry to that nite's Rub N Tug party that starts immediately after at 10:00 (and have you dealt with one of those door lines yet?) and the crazy ass Raf Simmons party after that!! BOO YA!
aNYthing/RockersNYC/Teardrops/Club 205 Chrystie (aNYthing Goes) present:
fuck $500 badges
this is free for everyone
This Thursday, Nov 2 6:00-10:00 pm
BARR (LA)
First Nation (NY)
No Age (LA... and btw, it is actaully a known fact that this is the best band in LA)
Soiled Mattress and The Springs (NY)
...and DJs Rockers NYC (NY)
first come first served, but show up early cause there is probably going to be a harsh line situation later on in the nite, but you don't wanna miss anything anyways, rite?

UPDATE:Straight from Becky Stark, lead singer of Lavender Diamond, a reminder of their show tonight, and yes, you will type your e-mails like this after seeing and hearing her sing:

Dear Friends,
Hello! Happy November! I hope you are well and feeling wild!
I am writing this special bulletin because TONIGHT this Friday, October 3rd, in
the Great and Grand City of New York(!) we are playing a very very very exciting
and and special show at an amazing place called Joe's Pub!! We know that You
maybe don't live in New York but if you do then you should come!! and if you
don't then you should tell a friend who lives in New York to come! Because we
have many songs to sing and we are feeling very strong currents of love and
these are breaking forward to share with you!
the show is at 11:30 pm-- the address is 425 Lafayette Street nyc 10003 and it
costs $12~
we hope to see you soon! thank you thank you thank you! don't forget to be as
kind as you can-
love,
peace!
-becky - lavender diamond- stark
ps- our tour with the decemberists has been amazing and outrageous! we are in
love* full report to follow***

Hippies Are Deadly

2006-11-01T19:39:00.000-08:00

Man, I step out to put a couple years on my liver and the whole world goes batty.

A major dude says the World will go to shit if we don't do something now, and the World says, "Noooooooooo!!!

Meanwhile, my Myspace profile views now stand at 2,850, a hundred of those this month. A relatively small number, sure, but how many views will be too many? 3,000? 5,000? How many views does my profile have to get before I decide to change the photo?

Furthermore, I've seen no less than 3 former Road Rules/Real World castmembers (2 in the last week!) on their way to or in the act of serving drinks, which makes me almost famous in some circles. And while I was sitting in a West Hollywood sports bar in a certainly-not-famous waitress' section, Jim James, of supposedly indie band, My Morning Jacket, sat two booths away with some dude who eventually whisked them both away in a Porsche SUV. Is that not worse than, say, a blog cashing in on Microsoft's desperation? Jim Jones has a beard for chrissakes. And long hair. In a ponytail. And he's riding around Hollywood in a fucking Porsche? A Porsche SUV? How many miles does that get to the gallon? I'll tell you how many, Jim: 14 city, 18 highway, that's how many. That's not good, dude. That's Hummer country, pal. You know what Dave Matthews would do to your record contract if he knew what you were doing? He'd sing a song about it. Something like, "There's wiiiiind calliiiiiing/And it says, 'Jones is falliiingeeeyeeahh'/Falling down like acid raaaiiiiin/On the cheeks of Mother Eeeeaaarrth/Mother Jones, I write this letter/To beg you to tell your son, Jim/To stop his Cayenne madneesssss/Before I hand the shreds of his future to hiiiiiimmeeeaahhhh!!! [wicked violin solo]." I'll tell you another thing while we're at it. You're no Jackson Browne, buddy. You might sound like him, all American and earthy and caring, but I wouldn't be surprised to find out you date blonde actresses who don't even chain themselves to trees. Tell me I'm wrong.

Anyway, the weather has been really nice here in Southern California lately, but it's starting to get a little chilly, so dudes, grab your mock turtlenecks…

… and ladies, wrap your dome…

… because I smell change on the Santa Anas.

Bindi Irwin Releases Kay Slay Mixtape

2006-10-23T21:57:00.000-07:00

Shit is real, son. I love Rassy as much as the next man, but mini-CrocHunter's gonna yoke that mark. I saw her on the Nickelodeon Kids Choice Awards, and she had slime all up in her eyes, and Terry, her mommy, was all "Are you crying? Are you crying?" and Bindi was like, "I'm fine! Hahahahaha!!" All crazy and shit. And like, all the Nickelodeon kids were trying to hug and coddle her onstage on T.V. because her dad just died and she was lookin' a little loony, and Bindi just shook 'em off and kept laughin'.

I myspaced Ras Kass for comment on the Bindi/Kay Slay collabo, and he sent me this letter which he claims appeared in his mailbox yesterday, postmarked Sydney, Australia:

I mean, it's like, Ras Kass is already a legend in the game, you know? He doesn't need to respond to this if he doesn't want to. It would be fine if, say, he moved to another town and didn't tell anybody.

Stay in Africa, Nino!

2006-10-20T08:22:00.001-07:00

You have never seen this photo before.

Wesley's in Namibia, ironically filming a movie about a slave rebellion in a country with no extradition treaty with the US aka The Country That Jails Black Dudes, and a Vietnamese immigrant running for Congress in Orange County, California sent out thousands of letters to Latino voters implying they would be arrested and deported if they showed up to vote (especially if they voted for the Latina Democrat running against him).

However, all I really want to say today is STOP DRIVING YOUR FUCKING CARS.

Seriously. This is why I don't like people. I'm going to be really pissed when I'm 90-years-old, and I have to think about my hypothetical grandchildren starving to death because my generation and my parents' generation were too lazy to walk or too stupid to ride a goddamn bus or train. Remember how awesome you thought your grandparents were? Yeah well, your grandchildren are going to hate you, and that is going to break your heart. Furthermore, all the grandchildren of the world are going to hate you, and that is going to break your bones. Think about how angry the angriest Columbiner is today, multiply that by a billion and imagine what kind of fun that planet will be. And what really sucks is that while I may be able to convince my grandkids that I tried my best to not kill Earth, every other grandkid on the planet will still think I'm an asshole. So thanks in advance, Everyone. Thanks for ruining my retirement, a retirement I won't even be able to spend in Miami because the entire state of Florida will be underwater.

Yes, it will take more than all of us parking our sweet, cherished Camrys to save our grandkids from global holocaust, but it's a pretty decent- and pretty easy- way to start. And guess what, you fat loser? Walking is good for you! And when you take public transport, you don't get angry at other drivers and you can read and talk to people! CuhRaaazayyyy!!!

Also, from Courtney, my friend who refuses to blog but loves to post links on the internet: Earth is putting our things in a box to the left.

Oh, and J-Shep is nice with the link but nicer with words. "Nigh one year has passed since I have mentioned Omarion Grandberry: an exercise in restraint." Love that and everything that follows it.

TGIF

Update: Sorry, if I was a little cranky earlier, it's only because it's 90 degrees on October 20th. As a conciliatory gesture, I would like to invite everyone to come to Los Angeles next Tuesday for Public Displays of Affection, an event to "show public transportation a little love." Take the bus or subway to Union Station. If you need help figuring that out, they are the long metal boxes on wheels that say "Union Station" on them. Secret Machines show for free with, uh, another Shepherd Fairey DJ set and a Cobrasnake photo exhibit. I might have a doctor's appointment that day, but you should totally go.

Update Again: Yes! Get ready for a slew of amazing Snipes vehicles in the coming years. Wesley is NOT going to jail– which is great news– but he has negotiated a "payment plan" with the IRS, i.e. indentured servitude, i.e. crap movies by Russian or Chinese action directors who are willing to shoot Wes a couple mil. It's gonna be awesome. Expect gangster werewolfs and ninja shortstops. Can't wait, can't wait. There are at least 5 or 6 films to come of this.

Go Buy A Stick

2006-10-19T20:52:00.000-07:00

If, while watching tonight's episode of "The Office", you responded to "Andy"'s question of "I wonder what ever happened to those guys?" (in reference to the Cardigans) by saying or thinking to yourself, "They put out a pretty decent album last year, actually," welcome to Totallyirresistabletotheoppositesexland, population: Me and You.