PTSOTL: July 2011

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Metaphor is murder

MORRISSEY MAD Photograph: Rex Features/Brian Rasic via

Epic troll and erstwhile Smiths frontman Morrissey, the only person who ever really understood me, is well known for his role as an outspoken vegetarian and colossal dick. He proved it yet again this week when he compared the massacre in Norway to fast food practices during a concert in Poland, in what is probably the worst thing that has ever happened in Warsaw.

"Just before performing his single Meat is Murder,' the Guardian UK writes, "he reportedly told the crowd: 'We all live in a murderous world, as the events in Norway have shown, with 97 [sic] dead. Though that is nothing compared to what happens in McDonald's and Kentucky Fried shit every day.'

"His comments, reported in the Daily Mirror, led to condemnation on websites and Twitter."

Oh goodness, not condemnation on websites and Twitter.

One fan tweeted: "I've been veggy for 22 years. Today Morrissey's made me want to start eating meat." Another concluded: "Jesus Christ, Morrissey, you utter, utter bell-end".

All very alarming stuff, but the point is this: Aren't the British so cute with all their different ways they have for calling people a penis? Haha, bell-end. Also, why do the British put the period after the quote? That's odd.

Where was I? The real point is this: Yiiiiikes, is that really what happens to someone's face when they get old. :/ He used to be so handsome!

Or maybe it's this: Just because someone who believes in one thing has a shitty way of talking about it does not therefor mean their point is invalid. It's like the old Al-Gore-lives-in-a-super-space-station-that-orbits-the-moon-so-therefor-global-warming-doesn't-exist fallacy I like to trot out all the time. Or how people approaching 40 start to become conservative once they realize how stupid everyone under 30 sounds whenever they talk about anything. Don't blame the message for the messenger's ineptitude. 99% of indignant vegetarians are utterly insufferable, but that doesn't mean the industrial torture farms we have set up to make sure no one in the country is ever at any point in their day any further than 50 yards away from a hormone and disease patty for 99 cents aren't worth criticizing.

So maybe Morrissey over-reached on that one (-Johnny, hearing the "Miserable Lie" vox for the first time), but let's not throw the bathwater out with the babies, like they do at abortion clinics I've been told in various e-mail forwards from my aunt.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

...it was all from ennui, gentlemen, all from ennui; inertia overcame me

Hey look, I found my patron saint in an antique store in New Hampshire this week. If this were 2006 and bathroom mirror cell phone self portraits were actually oil paintings, and instead of showing what you really looked like they showed a metaphoric version of how you feel/how you outwardly manifest your desired appearance to the world, then this would totally be my profile pic. Friend me!

Actually don't. And since no one asked, the real patron saint of PTSOTL, it is definitely important for me to point out, is the guy speaking below in yonder box quote. Kind of an embarrassing character to draw inspiration from, as he's a despicable cretin, but at least he knows it.

I was thinking about this book tonight on my way back from the mountains (no internet fucking mountains) when I stopped at the only place I could find to break my fast, a strip mall Chili's. If that's not a grim enough purgatory to get a brother feeling existential in between thin salty wafer scoops of watery tomato liquid while leaning on a bar top kissed by a thousand bacon-basted finger prints, then I don't know what existential means. Actually, I still don't think I do.

Back when I cared about tricking people into thinking I was smart I talked about a lot. If you're the type of asshole who hasn't read it, well...

Well... that's just great and OK by me because honestly no one gives a shit what books anyone else has read. Except for people who are waiting for you to stop talking about whatever book it is you just read so they can start talking about whatever book it is they just read when it's their turn to swing the oppressive cultural-word-anvil faceward.

Anyway, read it or don't. Shit is free right . There are better things to do with your time. Probably. Consider this our mission statement around here. Either that or 'Yesterday's Buzzfeed Links Tomorrow.'

But do you know, gentlemen, what was the chief point about my spite? Why, the whole point, the real sting of it lay in the fact that continually, even in the moment of the acutest spleen, I was inwardly conscious with shame that I was not only not a spiteful but not even an embittered man, that I was simply scaring sparrows at random and amusing myself by it. I might foam at the mouth, but bring me a doll to play with, give me a cup of tea with sugar in it, and maybe I should be appeased. I might even be genuinely touched, though probably I should grind my teeth at myself afterwards and lie awake at night with shame for months after. That was my way.

Friday, July 29, 2011

Scene for life. Literally. | Sick ear gauges, bro

Back in the 90s, I was horrified and amused by a new trend that swept through the hardcore scene: stretched ears. Suddenly, moshbros from coast to coast had giant, smelly discs in their ears; dumb piercings and poorly-considered tattoos weren’t enough, I guess. I thought it died out in the early 00s along with JNCOs and Krishna beads, but little did I know that stretched ears are apparently bigger than ever. -- via Stuff You Will Hate

Images via . Here are some of the lulziest examples.

Srs bummer to see a girl this retardedly hot with such stupid tattoos and piercings. “PAIN FREE”? Only until you wake up at 28 and realize what you’ve done to yourself, baby :(

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Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Ghost of drinking future

via

The Dig has been running outtakes and b-sides from my book. Here's another one today. Go check it out over there.

The Dig presents another outtake from our former A&E editor Luke O’Neil’s tribute to the city’s outstanding shit-holes in the wall, . This time around we visit Corrib Pub in the otherwise civilized neighborhood of Brookline.

Unlike the previously discussed bars Razzy’s and Guido’s, the Corrib is still hanging around, like a bum who even after twenty years on the same street corner mysteriously never seems to age.

As usual Luke looks for details within the bar at hand that also say something about dive bars in general. While these things might not always be pretty–the Corrib’s denim jackets and mustaches, for example– there’s always a sense of fondness and amusement behind Luke’s prose. For better or for worse, the ghost of the dive runs intractably in his blood, and while this may be a threat to Luke’s health, social life, and overall place in society, it makes for some great writing that’ll surely inspire you to take your place among the peeling barstools and cheap pigswill pitchers that litter this famed old town.

Pick up a copy of Luke’s book , or visit your local Newbury comics.

Corrib Pub 201 Harvard St., Brookline. .

The Corrib is part of a chain of three Irish pubs, each with a varying level of “authenticity.” The has been a meeting spot for fresh off the boat types since 1969. Today you’ll see punters kitted up for the match mingling there with the young Brighton population. One great thing about transatlantic soccer times is that it gives people an excuse to drink during the morning in the States. At the Brookline locale, the biggest dive of the bunch (the third is in West Roxbury) the crowd looks like they might have been sitting in these same seats since the late sixties. Read the rest.

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Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Stop talking about politics on the internet

Sick argument, bro. via

You know how you get so fired up about a controversial topic on a web post and you're sure you're going to swoop into the argument and teach all those misguided fools a lesson? Let's say it's about some racial profiling/Muslims/Norwegian terror attack shit in the comments of a Street Carnage post called #FUCKJIMGOAD to choose one example at random. Why do we always fall for this temporary brain damage routine? You're not going to convince anyone of shit. It never works. In fact, there's a pretty well known rule about this exact scenario, which is the following: the harder you try to prove people wrong in a comment thread, fuck you, that's kind of weird.

With that in mind I figured it was a good time for me to go back and re-read what I wrote for SC a while back about how people should Stop Talking Politics at the Bar. I've re-posted it here below in case you missed it the first time around, which you probably did, because people didn't really start reading this site until like a week ago.

Just replace the word "bar" with "the internet" in here, and call it even. Prove me wrong or agree. Wait, don't do that.

Stop Talking Politics at the Bar

You will never, ever, no matter how pithy the one-liners you’ve been practicing in message board arguments and how shit-eatingly confident your approach, convince someone of the opposite political opinion that they are wrong. About anything. No matter what. Ted Kennedy himself could descend from the heavens riding a chariot made of welfare checks and buy a round of Cape Codders for the bar and the conservative baby you’re talking to who is scared of the browns stealing his money and aborting him in the ass still wouldn’t change his mind. Same rules apply for the opposite end of the political spectrum (replace Teddy with Reagan and Cape Codders with moonshine and baby formula).

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This week in death traps

If you're like me, always working on the road, aka homeless and living out of your car, that doesn't mean that you can just neglect your blogging duties. That's what a cool new invention like the Wheelmate Laptop Steering Wheel Desk is for. . Make sure to check out the customer reviews and related pictures. Customers Who Bought This Item Also Bought: cyanide capsules, ShotGunFace Attachments, and a fucking noose.

h/t to Irish Leo.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Gas pumping the way God intended

magic

Not sure what it's like in whatever shitty state it is you live in, but in Massachusetts when you pump gas you have to stand there for 45 minutes like some sort of commoner pulling the handle on the gas pump, just sort of looking around, smoking your cigarette and thinking to yourself, "Here I am, pumping gas. Just pulling the handle on this thing."

Am I to deep fry my own shaved tubers in oil and fat next? It's just unseemly. Not in New Hampshire though. Look at that thing of beauty. That's good living right there, friends. Live Free or Die. Also hands free or die.

Follow your dreams. Your stupid, stupid graffiti dreams

Say what you will about Banksy, but I think we can all agree that there's nothing that he's done that couldn't be improved tenfold by some thoughtless doodling and the type of goofy S tags that kids used to draw on their notebooks in 7th grade. Photo via , who write "Come on Boston. Really?"

On the contrary, I think this is the most predictably Boston thing I've ever seen. "Nice aht, homo. FUCK YOU."

How dare these hoodlums defile public property like that with their questionable art. Banksy would never approve of that.

I happen to like Banksy, but I also happen to think, as this post at Street Carnage points out, that "Graffiti is for Bitches."

Then again, maybe the scofflaws behind this were simply following their dreams of ruining shit. That's a dream too, right? Don't judge.

Mostly unsullied photo of the "piece" after the jump.

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Sunday, July 24, 2011

New fall TV schedule: More like shit-coms, right?

Weirdsies, I was just thinking the same thing.

I've been thinking about this piece of shit forever now and I literally could not come up with a single funny thing to say, which happens to be thematically coincidental, because I'm sure that's exactly how the writers of this forthcoming (some network) show "2 Broke Girls" felt every time they wrapped an episode.

Couple things to keep in mind when you watch this: That Coldplay joke. Wow. The fact that the high concept premise here is pretty much the equivalent of getting sentenced by a judge to be someone's butler, except IRL. Kat Dennings's boobs, which I was probably going be thinking about anyway if we're being honest. (NSFW after the jump). That laugh track.

Pros: Dried up vagina joke. Not the specific one they used, but the fact they did. Jism vs. clam chowder joke. Cum shot whip cream gag. Wait, what channel is this going to be on, Bang Bus?

"It didn't feel pink." Being able to witness exactly how stupid Hollywood thinks you are. Knowing that they're still probably right.

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Friday, July 22, 2011

Let's keep talking about the crossover of sports and indie culture forever | PTSOTL re-runs

worst basketball team ever

This ran a good while back in the Weekly Dig, but a friend just posted it on his Facebook randomly, and since, as you know, I'm always interested in the intersection of sports and music culture, and how Boston is the most unique, special little place on earth, I thought I'd re-post, that way I don't have to generate any new content today in the 100 degree heat.

Some of the personal details in here have changed, but same rules still apply across the board vis a vis sports and music and Boston. Also worth mentioning that fantasy football season is about to start up again and I'm going to smoke all these basic ass bitches if they can manage not to cheat like they do every other year.

Rabid enthusiasm for both homegrown sports and music

It's the middle of the week, late August, and I spot a couple of friends by the door when I rush into the bar. "So," one of them asks immediately, "who are your keepers going to be this year?"

He's talking about fantasy football, of course. I've got Tom Brady, and I'm feeling pretty good, oblivious to the calamity that will change everything next week. We all turn to the game on TV. Sox are losing. Shit. A minute later, the local indie band we'd all come to see kicks into some Bowie-style glam rock, and we move closer to the stage. I keep one eye trained on the TV in the back of the room though, and for the next 45 minutes I stand there, swaying back and forth to the music, conscious of the Sox's dwindling prospects. I'm straddling the fence—eyeliner-wearing rockers on one side, beefed-up pro athletes on the other—and it couldn't feel more natural to be caught in the middle.

Like a surprising number of this city's indie rock fans, I'm also a huge sports nerd.

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Look at my giant talking head talking about things giantly

View more videos at: http://www.thefeast.com.

In my never ending cycle of self promotion for my book, I did an interview for The Feast Boston, the NBC/Universal website about things to do in your city and whatever, and they were kind enough to force it down the throats of everyone across their national, I dunno, channels? National channels let's say. Like here and here and here.

Go watch it on the Boston one and see me be really awkward, but still look good in a t-shirt, which are the only two things I'm really known for. Also because we like the editors over there and they do a good job and they had to sit around while I did like 17 takes of this routine before I finally remembered to stop picking my nose and saying "Hodor" after every sentence.

Thanks to Katy Kelleher and Casey Carbonneau for making me look slightly less retarded than I normally do.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Insane zombie leopard eats entire village, is coming for you next

SHOOT THAT FUCKER SHOOT HIM Photograph: AP

These pictures of a leopard attack in India (by AFP/Getty Images via the Guardian UK) are pretty horrifying and not really funny at all actually. Especially this one above because it's a total rip off of the PTSOTL banner image. WTF? I want royalties on that photo that I stole without permission from another artist. That leopard is practically taking money out of my hypothetical babies' imaginary baby mouths. (Imaginary baby mouths is the theme of a recurring nightmare I have incidentally.)

Photograph: Diptendu Dutta/AFP/Getty Images

Do you think dude here is going to see this photo when he gets out of the hospital and be like, "Thanks a lot for the heads up, fucker. You couldn't give a brother a 'He's right behind you?' Come on."

Go look at the rest of the images here. One more insane one after the jump. Hoooooolleeeee Shiitttt.

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Wednesday, July 20, 2011

The Scenester State of the Union. Feels bad, man. Or does it?

I hope no one at the club is wearing the same bee suit as me. via

Being a super famous scenester no matter where you live is easy. Here's how: 1) Show up. 2) Be old enough that you've been around so long that people sort of have to slouch into your orbit at one point or another or else it would be kind of weird. 3) Say “Hey man!” to people you barely know over and over again. Forever.

That was simple, right? Next thing you know you'll be living in an isolated cocoon of fashion-forward decadence and barely coherent, one-sided conversations in dark rooms so loud you can barely hear yourself talk over someone else talking over you about their half-formed projects. As one of my musician scenester friends put it recently, which is the truest thing I've heard in a long time, “When two artists talk, it's like a game of Risk to see who takes over the conversation by force.”

Also like Risk in that I usually like to start in Australia. And nobody really knows what Kamchatka is.

Or as Courtney Taylor-Taylor, the Oscar Wilde of people who know their way around the Hawthorne District, once put it “What do you do? Oh yeah I wait tables too, no I haven't heard your band cause you guys are pretty new...”

Sometimes you want a little more out of your f2f ITL interactions in 'the scene' though. Or maybe your s.o. isn't involved in music or art or media in an direct way, aka has a big person job, and they feel left out of the bullshit dance when you go out together. I was thinking about this recently, if your definition of recently is every single time I've ever gone out for the past ten years, and a few questions came to mind.

I decided to put them to a disparate group of scenesters I fart next to at clubs, or I know from around the way, band bros/girl bros, DJs, and just your average hanger-outers from around the country. Instead of editing it into a readable narrative piece, which quite frankly would take a lot of work, and the guy behind this blog doesn't pay me shit, I decided to just post a few of their entire responses below. You've heard of a lot of them, but most of them wanted to be anonymous.

1) Do you feel like you yourself treat people who you meet out in the world that are not involved in music/media/arts differently than people who are? Do you think the majority of people 'in your specific scene' do this? I'm also interested in how this applies to the significant others of people who you know through music etc.

2) What do you think about the idea of peripheral friendship? Meaning, do you think it feels phony to 'know' people that you see out in the world all the time without really knowing them? Is it bad to kind of be friends with someone, even if it's for a span of years? Or do you think at a certain point if you haven't had a meaningful interaction with someone yet then you are just carrying on an oppressive charade that you are trapped in forever?

Here's what they said.

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Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Link Deuce: Kreayshawn, The French, Sugar Water event, Boston is ugly, for assh0les

What the fuck are you looking at, kid? What are you a fucking hardon?

Here's the part of the show where I just repost things that I already talked about on Facebook. That's called being a green blogger I think. Let's see...

Kreayshawn news!

Everyone likes her over here right? Over there. Where are you guys?

Couple new joints, as they say, from her this week. First up is this remix of Gucci Gucci from Long Jawns and Bobby LaBeats via Mad Decent. I like the part with the cat meow.

Kreayshawn - Gucci Gucci (Long Jawns x Bobby la Beat Moombahton Remix) FREE DL IN DESCRIPTION by longjawns

Here's a NEW TRACK from Kreay Kreay with Theophilus London, who you can imagine is probably psyched he got to work with our girl. You can just hear it in his voice.

This is like the rap equivalent of missing a sick kegger in the woods behind school because you had to go to your little sister's gymnastic performance. The beat here is real niiice and slow and wet, but girl barely bothered to even show up for this one. MAYBE I LIKE HER BETTER NOW. Kreayshawn is a lot cuter when she's bad.

Boston is mean

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Buzz blog buzz band blogged about on buzz blog

Not even sure if I care about OFWGKTA any more, (now that all you nerds know who they are) but I shouldn't have signed the blogger contract that obligates me to mention them at least once a week if I didn't want to be stuck with them, so my hands are tied you see. Here's my DEFINITIVE REVIEW of their show a while back. Canonize that shit.

This new video from Pusha T featuring Tyler the Creator is actually pretty good at least. It's funny because he's a young kid, you see.

Monday, July 18, 2011

The most gorgeous photos I've ever seen (in a while)

SPOILER ALERT: Look, they're really friends after all. Does this kind of ruin the banner image for you? It's ok, maybe the Wolf and Red got an argument after this other photo here was taken and he's still going to disembowel her in the banner image. Let's hope so anyway.

Go check out the rest of the beautiful photos from Israeli Shlomi Nissim here or on his , most of which is in, er, Israeil talk? Hebrew I guess you call it, so I can't really make out many details about him, although it says here *adjusts glasses* that he "likes" Iron Maiden, Metallica, Bob Dylan, and Lady Gaga, so in that sense he's a lot like me, if I was lying to you about four things I liked.

Oh wait, Here's his website. A bunch more gorgeous photos after the jump, all of which I am posting here without permission and sort of hoping it all works out.

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Arts and crafts grandma trips balls, rubs one out

"It is so hard to stop." Have you ever wondered what it would be like to watch your arts and crafty grandmother trip balls and rub one out at the same time? Wonder no more, perverts.

Thanks to Katy for twisting my melon via Everything is Terrible via root/.workspace/.garbage via I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight, or ever again probably.

Dog vs. Shark, who you got?

via

Probably should've titled this The Most Australian Thing I've Ever Seen come to think of it, but I've already entered the text into the little title box up there and it seems like a lot of work to change it.

Before It's News has the play by play in the awkwardly, awesomely headlined Dog Bites Shark Incredible Hound Rounds Seas Fearsome Beasts. "The film, shot by an unknown Australian, who gives an hilarious running commentary, shows the two dogs as they take a paddle in clear blue waters. But lurking ominously beneath the waters, the spooky silhouettes of several sharks can be seen blocking the mutts' path to the safety of the shore."

Find out what happens after the jump!

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Educated commuter gets butt hurt, hires PR firm, not doing it right

via

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR: misogynistic language, rape references, quotes from the NY Daily News, that fucking picture up there jesus what is going on there?

She got cunt hurt, I guess you'd call it. Remember the Cunt of the Week from while back who berated a commuter rail conductor for not being intimately familiar with the details of her college transcripts? It's ok if you don't, this is the internet where we're easily distracted. Hey look at this dog fighting a shark! Aww, good boy.

Anyone watch that Red Sox game last night? 16 scoreless innings. Baseball rules. La la la. Doot doot.

MORE -->

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Saturday, July 16, 2011

The most Maine thing I've ever seen (question mark)

"Maine's version of art"

I recently covered the most Florida thing I've ever seen, which, as you'll recall, was a piece of bacon and a cigarette butt in an ashtray near the beach. This photo here is what I thought might be the most Maine thing I've ever seen (via ). She called it "Maine's version of art." Heh.

But then I wasn't so sure if that was really the most Maine thing I could think of, so I asked a couple of Mainer friends for ideas, which is probably the first time anyone has ever asked someone from Maine for anything other than the keys to their summer cottage or where to score junk.

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WOWMANWOW's title says it all really

WOWMANWOW season 2 : episode 12 - watch more funny videos

This series WOWMANWOW from Nutritious Media and featuring ptsotl bromandude Evan Kenney is from a while back, but it's new to me, and based on the number of views it has over on Funny or Die, new to you I'm guessing. Kind of bummed it doesn't have 17 billion fans, but it does pretty much rate 100% funny across the board, so... Figured I'd link to it here and up its views by literally half dozens of people.There are three seasons of episodes, each one more fucked up than the next. No pun intended.

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The most important debate of our time: snap back vs. fitted? Deez Nuts settle it

Sergeant D from Stuff You Will Hate files this report from the baseball cap wars. I like the part where the teams they are repping are really shitty ones. What's an awful Australian rules football team, because I want their merch. Also, come on dudes, you couldn't spring for the second Z in your name? Deez Nutz has a much more br00tal ring to it.

In case you aren’t familiar, DEEZ NUTS are a thugcore band from Australia. If you haven’t, check out . If you didn’t know better, you’d swear it was an SNL skit, but as far as I know. they are 100% non-ironic, which is as depressing as it is lulzy. As if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, they apparently have a rap side project called GRIPS & TONIC.

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Friday, July 15, 2011

Jesus Christ my taste in music is so bad + Robyn + FNL + struggling to make it is sad

I think I probably goofed on this song on here somewhere a while back as the epitome of everything that's wrong about vocoder screamo Br00tal electro ADHD-core, aka Why Teenagers These Days are Fucked, but the damndest thing happened when I accidentally slipped and hit a button on my laptop that made me purchase the Warped Tour 2011 sampler (56 songs for like 7 bucks on iTunes! Just saying), and now I've listened to this song like 12 times this morning. I really don't know what to tell you other than the heart wants what the heart wants.

"The things we do to make it in the world" + Robyn + FNL y'all, after the jump. Kill me.

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LMFAO are better than Gaga and Madonna combined

OK, not really Jake Zavracky's point here, but no one clicks on a non-hyperbolic link, so let's go with it. (JSYK, Jake, I was just suprrised that you specifically, and our boy MINT E. FRESH liked LMFAO, not that people in general would.) Go check out his site some time anyway.

Oh, and this is unrelated, but just wanted to point out I saw a 50 year old man walking around the locker room naked yesterday blasting "The Humpty Dance" out of his ear buds.

Upon hearing my declaration that LMFAO is the band of the decade, which may be sort of premature (only sort of though) and anyway not really meant to be taken seriously, Luke O'Neil scoffed. "Are you serious? You seriously like LMFAO?". I do seriously like them and it's not something I say to be provocative, as in "check out what I like; you're too close minded and guarded and overly intellectual to allow yourself to like something as simple-minded as this, you are unable to love life and fun the way I do". I just like the simplicity, the absolute lack of pretense, and mostly that they hit all the pleasure centers without really trying.

So here's the question I keep coming back to: why do these types of people, people like Luke O'Neil, who scoff at LMFAO, get all excited about Lady Gaga? I remember having a conversation with Luke about how I didn't get what was so outstanding about her relative to any number of pop stars, and how I was bemused at the lip service she regularly receives from people like Luke and those of his ilk (read: Cambridge leftists). He vigilantly defended her. This conversation may not have actually occurred but it sounds right in my head and it works really well for the purposes of my argument. How did intellectuals like Luke O'Neil reach a positive consensus on her? I haven't heard any satisfying reasons.

MORE>>

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Venom's stage banter is better than anything your band will ever do

Yesterday our man Evan Kenney asked me if he could blow my mind for a minute, and I thought it was the moment I've been waiting for all these years at long last. Turns out he just wanted to share this video, which has been around for a while. It still did exactly what he said. There's only like 3,500 views on YouTube "but I'm pretty sure 2,500 of those are from me."

One of my biggest pet peeves, besides people crop dusting at dance nights and blaming it on their girlfriends, is seeing a band that doesn’t engage the audience at a live show between songs. Seriously, some of the greatest bands that have ever existed are so terrible at stage banter that you wonder how they could pull off getting their post-show handjobs from their cougar groupies. That is why the Gods of Metal created Venom, the shittiest, most awful embodiment of a Spinal Tap joke that turned out to be the ULTIMATE stage banter heroes.

The story goes something like this: Venom was playing a show with Black Flag in NJ and all of Venom’s set was recorded. Someone, I think it may have been Hank Rollins, gave the audio to Thurston Moore, (the guy who plays in that band) and “Mr. Noise-Rock” edited out all of the music and kept all the stage banter. That story may be wrong, but I am too hungover to check out Wikipedia links right now, dudes. What comes of all of this is the absolute best collection of stage banter from one of the worst metal bands alive. Also, they look like that. ^

Video and highlights after the thing. Watch it. For real.

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Thursday, July 14, 2011

Cunt of the month award: passive aggressive vegan

It was a close contest right down to the wire between this vegan note-leaver here and every single other person I talked to or encountered in the world, but the coveted Cunt of the Month Award results are in, and the vegan takes it with this display of heroic cuntery.

Second page, and the explanation from the always hurl-inspiring Passive Agressive Notes below -->

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Hey, remember the 9tz? Cibo Matto do

There's been a lot of talk recently about how the '90s are back, much of it by me. One thing I've forgotten to mention in my hasty excitement for a return to the days when my man crush on Jared Leto wasn't creepy was that the '90s were pretty much a complete bum-out. Everyone was stomping around all day in gross boots and giant socks, and we all had our hair tied up in tight scrunchies that constricted blood flow to the brain. No wonder the music was so grim.

Somewhere around the middle of the decade, bands in New York City remembered that music was supposed to be fun. Chief among them were Cibo Matto, the Japanese-American duo who popularized the polyglot fusion concept that was also, coincidentally, sweeping the restaurant scene. In fact, they actually were singing about food most of the time, on songs like "Birthday Cake" and "Know Your Chicken." (Cibo Matto means "crazy food" in Italian, I'm obliged to point out). They were brash, ballsy, fun, cooler than hell, and surprisingly funny.

Go read the rest at the Boston Phoenix.

This thing right here, whatever it is UPDATE

Posted this photo on my spacebook jamspot earlier, and no one can figure out wt-fuck it is, so now I put it to you fine people of the internet world. Here's the deal:

Finally figured out what that weird smell was coming from under the stairs. HTF many animals is this meatfur pancake comprised of? Island of Dr. Moreau and shit over here. Yiiikes. Anyway, I'm not touching it, so I guess we'll find out how smelly it can get.

For real YOU GUYS, what is this mess? It's like a daisy chain of smashed mammal. It looks like it was flattened by a truck, but then why was it moved under my stairs away from the street? And did like 7 animals get hit at once? I can spot a rabbit head, a fox tail, cat fur, something that looks like a crab... I just don't know. It's like an entire interconnected wheel of flattened food chain. Human Centipede 3: This Time It Was Animals.

ADDED NEW PHOTOS BELOW!

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Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Hi, my name is fuck, and welcome to my shit. How it feels to talk about things

Woh. These recordings, or "blags" if you will (via Street Carnage) from Jesse Michaels of the punk rock band Operation Ivy are exactly what I've been wanting to say to you guys about life and music and caring about anything in general forever.

"What's your favorite bar you've been too lately?" "Seen any good shows this week bro?" Ugh, fuuuuuuuck you. Who gives a shiiiiiit?

Sadly, I can't use that gold now because he's already done it better than me. In his case it's people wanting to talk about music and "thrash metal."

I really couldn't have heard anything that would make me happier and more content to be a miserable misanthropic, anti-capitalistic cunt than this today. Listen and enjoy. Fuck you. Here's the general jist if you don't have audio at work or whatever, but his disgusted delivery is pretty key.

"Hi my name is Jesse Michaels, I'm a local music asshole. This is my blog. You know, a lot of people ask me, 'Hey what's the best thrash metal band?' and I always answer the same thing 'Go fuck yourself.'

You see, I don't really like music... What I like doing is lying in a bathtub, taking a shit, and calling it self spa treatment. I'm a fucking dickhead, got that? I don't like music, I'm upset about capitalism, and there aint no god, mommy. So, if you want to know about music go to the fucking mp3 store or whatever shit people are shitloading into their fuck. Thank you. Fuck off."

"Hi my name is Jesse Michaels. I'm a popular local musician, if you measure popularity in self hatred and failure. This is my music blog. You know, this week someone asked me, they said 'Jesse Michaels, I love thrash metal and I want to go to the gig, but there's just one problem. Sometime a pit starts and I'm not sure how to do it right.' Well, this is a common question, and I usually answer it one of two ways. Either I punch myself really fucking had in the mouth, or I start crying because I hate life so much.

Basically what I'm trying to say is 'Fuck you, ok?' I don't give a shit about gigs. I don't like gigs, ok? The world is controled by the wealthy, who are grinding everybody else's life into shit. And Lord Jesus aint doing nothing about it, you know? Keep praying, I'll be over here eating my own shit, you know? And calling it a personal blessing. Fuck off. I don't want to talk about records, I don't want to go to the gig. It doesn't help anymore. There was a time when I fell for the parlor tricks. 'Ooh, the Bad Brains!' Who gives a shit? 'Oh, Glenn Danzig wrote a good song!' Fuck me. You know what I mean? Fuck me, fuck my ideas. Where is god? Oh god are you here? No not over here. I know, iIll look somehwere else. Meanwhile fucking Exxon is shitting on my face, all day long, and your's too. Welcome to the family, you know I love you a lot. Get fucked."

That, that is just poetry. Perfect poetry. See the other one over at Street Carnage.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Sports are violent, athletes are idiots, and fans are boors. Who cares? Sports rule

via

A viral marketing blog for sneakers or whatever asked me to write something uplifting about sports, but, you'll be surprised to learn, what I turned in was a little too negative for their taste, and since we're being honest here, I kind of half-assed it. Fortunately, overly negative and half-assed is pretty much our calling card around here at PTSOTL, so here it is.

If you're reading this [cool sneaker-based blog] it's safe to assume you have an interest in sports. On the other hand, you're also probably at least passing for cool and therefor have loads of friends who think sports, especially the popular ones, are gross. It's a tough spot to be in, but I'm here to make you feel better about it. There are plenty of reasons to not like sports, sure, but all of those reasons are 100% stupid. Here's why.

via None of this applies to hockey, because hockey is fucking dumb

Sports are violent

Yes, the basis of most team sports is big men smashing into one another at high speed. Sports are by their very nature violent, and it's understandable for a reasonable person to be apprehensive about violence. But how come no one ever talks about all of the millions and millions of heads throughout history that didn't get fucking chopped off because men had sports to channel their energy into?

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You're not doing the nineties right

hair

Saw Kurt Vile tonight, which was a trip, and good, and fun and etc. I'm wicked psyched every indie band in the world wants to sound like Dinosaur Jr. now, but let's not forget that it isn't just a sound, they also had something called great fucking tunes. Am I the only one who gives a shit about the rules around here?

In case you forgotz:

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The Ethical Scumbag

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