Damn this music video is trippy, kinda like my weekend. [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gz4TDrE67mI]
And here's the Killers destroying this song with their cover:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=87cLyBR1JTo]
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I went to a party with Tony, Lea, and Chris recently. Toshi was hosting an open bar casting party for topless (and body painted in appropriate areas) bartenders at his redonkulous parties. I went expecting to let off some steam. Instead I reached a new high, or low depending on one's perspective in my social history in New York. I woke up the next morning resting half way on the bed with my legs dangling and still wearing my clothing from the night before. Having blacked out for most of the night I do not recall most of the photos below nor my actions that night.
The party was being held in some loft space in Chinatown. We buzzed and buzzed the elevator but it never showed up. A portentous warning that we should have paid attention to and walked away.
We did not heed the warning and instead walked up 7 flights of stairs.
We were a tad early to the party, but when you're friends with the girl who helps run Toshi's parties you're never too early for the open bar! Chris and Lea begin the obligatory vertical and horizontal peace signs. I should have taken a photo of him, but when we finally walked in, we noticed the guy running the elevator just sitting there on the 7th floor and chillin'.
Black Tony, Asian Chris, and Lebanese Lea rocking the photo stereotypes (and I was fulfilling my Korean side by taking the photo).
Chris chatting with Tze. I think he was maybe apologizing for the jackass and toolish behavior of some of the people he arrived with.
Tze, Tony, and Chris. Aw, everyone looks so relaxed.
Lea was being careless with throwing around her purse, so Tony stepped in and fulfilled his role as the Defender of All Women (DOAW).
Mike showed up! Things started getting hazy for the photographer around his point. I also want to publicly apologize to the friend of the girl in the white tank in the background of this photo for not being able to speak coherently to her later that night. Damn that devil combination called Red Bull and Vodka! (1)
One of the girls "trying out" to be a bartender at Toshi's parties. To his credit, he does pay them for one night of work basically making vodka tonics and serving beer a lot of money. Cash money millionaire. Cash money topless.
Disclaimer: The next photo was not taken by yours truly, but instead Lea who grabbed my camera and went nuts with it for awhile. But I'm a man secure enough in his heterosexuality as well as a strong proponent of equality to have a little something for my two lady readers as well:
Again, this photo of couple of the male bartender tryouts was snapped by Lea.
Ladies and gentleman, this "whoring oneself for money 101." Tony decides, with our urging however, to tryout as well. I am demanding a 5 percent cut of his earnings.
I know you ladies are playing close attention to Tony here (I'm talking to you E. Connors), but check out the dude in the background paying extra close attention to the body painting taking place on the girl.
Mike, Me, and Chris.
Tony and his new friend, uh Destiny.
I'm guessing Mike is thinking "I have a girlfriend. I have a girlfriend. I have a girlfriend. That girl is topless. I have a girlfriend." Lea is saying something like "YEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH" to Chris.
Lea freaking out, Tony trying to reassure Lea that he is indeed wearing deodorant, and Brent in the background looking classy as ever in the wife beater and beer. I honestly don't remember any of the photos really, beyond this.
Tony doesn't really remember any of this from here on out either. But this is my favorite picture. It's so...decadent. It looks like they are toasting to how great, wonderful, and perfect everything is in life. Open bars can create that illusion apparently.
Hahaha. This is probably my other favorite photo. Looks like Brent's about to bust out his number one line on Lea.
The bar area was minimal hassle and fast!
Oh snap! Brent made the switch to ...Red Bull and Vodka as well it appears!
Tony and I with Raven and Roxy. I wish I could remember this night because this guy Matt in these photo apparently had a really great time at the party.
This photo of Chris is funny, especially since the next day he said that he wasn't that drunk. This photo says otherwise. Funnier yet, is the cat in the white hat (rhymes!) smiling at Chris. Run Chris, run!
Again I absolutely cannot recall this taking place ever, but it makes me laugh. Soon after this, Chris said that he put me in a cab. Before leaving, I rolled down the window and leaned out apparently and said to them, "Why are you guys leaving me? Why??"
That night, I hit the trifecta, the jackpot, the threeway parlay of a bad night of partying in New York:
1. Censored. Please call, IM, email me for this embarrassing action, which Mike unfortunately witnessed (SORRY MIKE!).
2. Throwing up inside a cab and arguing vehemently with the cab driver (SORRY CAB DRIVER!).
3. Calling 911 and speaking with the dispatcher (SORRY DISPATCHER!).
I am generally an outstanding citizen and my behavior above is very atypical. I tend to stick to reading at the libraries, volunteering with underprivileged children, and going to the gym.
1. I recently went out with a friend who claimed Red Bull and Vodka actually does not get people drunk. Fact: This night emphatically demonstrates that Red Bull and Vodka does in fact get people drunk, often to a dangerous degree--as in resulting in potentially physical harm.
I got a two-for-one celebrity sighting recently. While standing in the doorway of the take out Chinese restaurant around the corner from my apartment, I saw my fellow Brooklynites Maggie Gyllenhaal and her husband Peter Sarsgaard.
Sometimes when I'm surfing the web I'll take a screen shot of something that is interesting. Or rather I think is interesting.
I think it's funny that Paul Krugman uses an emoticon here on his Times blog. I wonder if he also tYpEs lIke tHis and sends "LMAO LOL" emails to Frank Rich, as well as a @-`-- (a rose) to Maureen Dowd.
Technically not from the world wide web, but just wanted to point out to you that the devil has infiltrated my e-mail!
I forgot the link to the site where I saw this, but I thought it was really intriguing.
Don't drink alcohol again. Ever.
You may think my fixation with Aaron Neville is a fandom based on some ironic hipster-retro faux poserness. If you think that, one, you're wrong, and two, fuck you! The man is a musical genius. Olaf the Caveman. Mozart. Beatles. KRS One. Aaron Neville. Besides, for all Aaron Neville related matters, according to Wordpress--the blog host of this as well as thousands of others--I'm their "Featured Blog." (1) You know what's sweeter than a strawberry milkshake? Validation.
And now you're thinking "What a fucking loser!" Fuck you! I have a hot uh, date this weekend. With uh, Natalie...um, Natalie Hortman. Yea.
1. I think there are only two or three other blogs in the Aaron Neville category.
Three albums have been getting heavy rotation on my playlist. I just got 'em--all legally, thank you very much. One of them, Radiohead's new release "In Rainbows" is an interesting case study to anyone interested in marketing, music, copyright, and licensing issues, trends and social networks, and the intersection among these areas. These all represent current challenges (and opportunities if they could open their myopic eyes) to the music industry. Luckily for consumers, despite the RIAAscists and their ilk, musicians are increasingly shedding their paleolithic relationship with record labels and communicating directly with their fans--the consumers. Radiohead not only cut out the middleman on their new album but went one step further. You pay them whatever you wish: zero to a million dollars.
How's this experiment going so far? I'm too lazy to find the proper link on the Times, but I read recently that between the free-riders and idiots (to economists at least because we're all suppose to be self-interested rational beings only looking out for ourselves and our interests), Radiohead is receiving roughly $8 per download. Not bad, especially if you think about the fact the band is getting a bigger slice of that pie as oppose to some record label, and being the bellwether band with this payment structure, they're reaping tons of free (and generally positive) publicity.
I've never been the biggest Radiohead fan, but thanks to this pay-as-you-want system, I was tempted enough to try it out. This album is astonishingly great to my relatively non-discerning ear.
Being a huge Wilco fan, I wasn't disappointed at all with "Sky Blue Sky." From the gorgeous cover art (I wouldn't mind a nicely framed litho of it) to the songs, it's a must have.
John Mayer's Continuum is simply off the heezy, yo! J Dog comes correct and straight with emotions on sleeves. Holla.
Here's an interesting observation by Slate. As most of you know--because my readers are not only beautiful inside and out, but also erudite intellectuals--the distinctiveness or personality of the WSJ, aside from its generally horrible editorial page, is its unique dotted and stippled portraitures that accompany many of its lead stories. Goal #587: Get my face dotted for the WSJ....for something cool and good, and not for insider trading or starting a heedless and unnecessary war resulting in the deaths of thousands of people, hopefully. Anyway, sometimes a drawing is just a drawing, but Slate observed an interesting reflection in his WSJ face over the years:
This pageant contestant representing that perfect nexus of beauty and talent, Douglas, USA is the exact definition of the phrase "hot mess." First there's the full body black 'tard. She made the executive decision to attach a mass of silver ribbons around the wrists, which was the the only part of the routine that actually received points from the judges. It goes all downhill pretty rapidly after that...around 0:02 seconds into the recording.
Outfit, check!Talent needed....Got it! Trumpet, check!
Song...Yes, theme to Star Wars, check!
Ability to play trumpet and by play, I mean actually hit the correct notes...no check.
Mask inability to play trumpet by jumping around and dodging the sounds of Stormtrooper laser beams, check!
All the other contestants when asked, "What would be your goal if you won" didn't answer "World Peace." Instead, nearly all of them replied, "Save the world from Miss Douglas ever playing any musical instrument at all." One, Miss Cranston did say she wanted to promote world peace. Now that's called perspective, people.
Oh and do watch Miss Douglas's "talent" performance.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wffwg7pA0t8]
Unlike those "win a free iPod if you sign up 10 people" Ponzi schemes, this one actually works, people. Granted it's not as sweet as the prizes offered in those pop up flashing banner ads, but unlike those, this one actually works and you'll walk away with five credits redeemable on Apple's iTunes Music Store! Just follow these easy steps:
1. Access your Facebook account.2. Search for the "Ticketmaster Live" group.
3. Join Ticketmaster Live group.
4. Top of the group page will provide a redemption code to enter on iTunes Music Store (or click on "Redeem Free Music" link which will launch your iTunes app).
5. Voila! Five songs!
6. Leave lame corporate group and reassert your indie cred.
That said, it's not enough credits for an entire album (minus EPs). So question to those reading: are there any songs you recommend that I download? I already have Britney's "Gimme More" [but less of her jj] song. Thanks though.
Yea...I watched it with the sound muted. [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zS5fkPFUskQ]
I have so much I want to say about this asinine home recorded video. The idiotic premise is this: while her boyfriend or some friend of the male gender videotapes, this girl attempts to swallow a fully measured tablespoon of cinnamon. The result is something so oddly and horrifyingly compelling I couldn't turn away, and neither could whomever is recording because not only was he as mesmerized by the situation unfolding in front of him as I was, but he laughs hilariously while this girl--someone he ostensibly cares for--is quite literally choking to death. Well, not really, but I seriously thought at one point, "Holy shit, I've been snookered into watching a snuff film! " Tough to blame him though because as he said, "There was a cloud of cinnamon coming out of your mouth!" That kids, is pure comedy. Also, I don't want to say it, and maybe I'm just a big ol' perv for noticing it, but there's something pornographically metaphorical about her reaction. I do dare you to watch this video without coughing once. It's like watching someone yawn. Addictive!
To view...click here. (College Humor)
I'm realistic to the current formulaic stasis of television. Occasionally it'll poop out something great, like the entirely derivative yet still charming show, The Office. Maybe it's my advancing age, but nowadays I get only mildly choleric at the lack of diversity and representation on television. It's not like we're in the 21st century or anything. Oh, wait. Sorry, having an episode of Law and Order featuring Asian triad gangsters facing off against Black drug dealers, while the investigating cops get their coffee from the Hispanic bodega clerk doesn't count--but it does pay the bills of minority actors! What world is it that we live in where Wayne Brady can't even get his own show renewed? He's Wayne Brady, bitch! Does Wayne Brady have to choke a bitch to get a series renewal?! Anyhoo, my roommate was watching an episode of HBO's show Tell Me You Love Me which I happened to catch most of while eating dinner (Yes, Jesse: Ramen, but the good kind with the kimchi flavor). The show's shtick, it's punch line if you will which has been covered ad nauseam in reviews, is the (...big word alert...) punctilious display of its characters' sex lives in graphic detail, well graphic by American mainstream television standards (the Internet has some really fucked up shit, literally, so I've heard from others). Don't be too dismissive: when was the last time you saw a couple geriatrics go at it like rabbits...big, saggy rabbits? Until tonight, my answer would have been "never" (on purpose). However, it is this realism that is suppose to lend the show some measure of verisimilitude and authenticity. Nonetheless, instead of the sex, I walked away from the show thinking "Wow, Tell Me You Love Me makes Friends look like Ken Burns' latest documentary on the racial history of the United States." Maybe it's the one episode I saw, and the other episodes might be more diverse than your company's sensitivity training video, but this HBO show might be the whitest thing on television.
Christ, this girl Carolyne sounds like a character straight out of an episode of Law and Order: SVU.
Carolyne and Cici are best friends through the usual conduit of female bonding in New York: over some jerky guy.
Before she met Cici, Carolyne met Sam, 42, an investment banker. Carolyne kept running into Sam every time she went out. Sam had a Swiss girlfriend who was trying to get into broadcasting. One night, Sam and Carolyne saw each other at Spy and they were drunk and they started making out and went back to Sam’s place and had sex. Then his girlfriend got deported.
Nevertheless, Sam’s and Carolyne’s “relationship” continued along the same lines. Every time Carolyne and Sam ran into each other, they would have sex. One night, she saw him at System and she gave him a hand job in the corner. Then they went outside and had sex behind a dumpster. Afterward, Sam zipped up his pants, kissed her on the cheek and said, “Well, I’ll see you later.” Carolyne started throwing trash at him. “I’m not through with you, Samuel,” she said.
I heard that the Learning Annex (you know: they distribute their "course books" all over the City pitching classes like "Real Estate 101 with Donald Trump!," or "Ray of Pigs: Cookin' pork with Rachel Ray!") is going to offer a new course on how to be a "jerky guy" that'll teach you how to tag a gal behind a dumpster that smells of urine.
Looking surprisingly untranny like I spotted New York--the resident VH1 hoochie--on Broadway and Prince this morning.
Whenever I see marketers attempt to imitate the video game culture I get annoyed because typically it usually depicts a very non-realistic or cliched image of video games and the players. I read an article a long time ago, maybe on Slate, speaking to this, specifically the tendency to characterize video game players as these real life Bart Simpsons frenetically pounding away on the controller, when in reality most players behave almost the exact opposite. My irritation doesn't stem from the inaccuracy per se, but rather in the case of commercials, the laziness of the creative department that created the ad, because it shows that they didn't really do their research. And consequently, for me as a consumer it can be a huge turn off. This ad below created for Toyota is terrific because whoever generated it did their research, and as a result becomes instantly relatable and more importantly, relevant. Spoofing the insanely popular massive multiplayer online game World of Warcraft (WoW), the commercial nails spot on the players voices and vernacular. In addition, it also plays a sly homage to the now infamous Leroy "incident" which adds a further sense of authenticity to the commercial.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kg7HqqMRZ2I]
Tangentially, it's interesting that the medium of a video game is used to pitch a truck--a product typically aimed towards the non-video game crowd, in terms of simplified demographic stereotypes. That said, in my experience with online gaming, there is quite a sizable if not dominant contingent of Southern, car and truck obsessed mid-20s to early 30s guys playing these games.
An open casting call was held recently in New York for the role of Christopher Wallace better known as Notorious B.I.G or Biggie Smalls for an upcoming eponymous biopic being handled by Foxlight Studios and produced by his mother. Along with the usual cats pushing 200 lbs plus, there was a surprise appearance at the casting call by...Tupac.
“When you think about Biggie, you gotta say Tupac,” said Josh Du Love, 27, a Bed-Stuy resident who came in the guise of Biggie’s foe, Tupac Shakur, complete with shaved head and bandanna. “I said I’d come here, try to start up some beef.”Instead Du Love, as he is known, a promoter and comedian, exchanged numbers with some of the Biggies. Maybe they would shoot a video.
That's called healing the east coast and west coast divide, ya'll.
When you wake up on Saturday morning and browse the news you'll encounter countless puns regarding the memorable baseball playoff game Friday night between the Yankees and Indians on Cleveland's home turf. Beyond a closely fought match, the distinctive nature of this particular game was provided by the appearance late in the game of millions and millions of pesky bugs.
“Like small pterodactyls."
It was quite disgusting to see and took (...hyperbole warning...) remarkable resilience of both teams to face such an onslaught. I've been writing this blurb looking for any opportunity to use a certain phrase, but couldn't properly fit it in. It doesn't get mentioned nearly enough, so with the flimsiest and most tangential of context, I write: CLEVELAND STEAMER!!!!!! (Don't google this unless in the privacy of your room and even then consider yourself warned. Very, extremely, doubly warned.)
[Insert Arod is teh gay comment caption here]
