But before I go...
Ok, well I'm off to the Friends and Family Campout this weekend, so I gotta run, but I had to leave you poor working stiffs with a little slice of fried gold to make your day go a little bit faster.
Tyson the skateboarding bulldog. Woof, muthafuckas, woof.
Whatever you do, do not miss the pics of
Tyson with his kitties, and the
puppy gallery (scroll down). Those pics had me talking to my computer screen like a meth addict on Market St. "Who's a pwetty puppy? Who is? You are, yes you are!"
Oh, and everyone be sure to wish
happy birthday to Don Maurillo! Sort of appropriate that it falls on the day of this post since one of Michael's hobbies is punching animals. Hooray! We love you, you sick son of a bitch.
Playing with dead things
This is the
coolest use of dead animals I've seen since Stef's 4th of July BBQ. The Dutch artist Afke Goldsteijn creates works that are a gorgeous use of natural materials, in this case the carcasses of rabbits, mice, birds, and even a lioness. She calls them "contemporary fairytales," and they are, in my humble opinion, an incredibly respectful way to honor the original inhabitants of the artist's medium.
(via
Cool Hunting)
Of course, it's hard to say that her works are cooler than this
Squirrel Liquor Decanter, which according to Jeffro I can expect to be the proud owner of come my next birthday. Now that's art.
And, on that note,
check out the boner on this guy. Oh, god, I kill me. And that, my friends, is what we call the double pun dismount.
Big fat pimps
Look who's all grown up and cutting tracks with
Fiddy and
K-Fed. Seems like just yesterday we were
breaking him in on the boombox (
vid here). It's ok, Dave, we forgive you for the K-Fed thing, but only cause we love you.
And at the risk of crossing over into bunny boiling territory, Glenn Close stiz, there are some new Diplo pics out there and you know I had to post them. Here's the boy
doing a backflip to entertain some kids. Hot? Yes indeedy. What can I say, I heart pasty boys (keep scrolling down for a review of his apres-pool DJ set). And here are some pics from
his trip to Japan. These are my faves cause they combine three of the cutest things in the world- Diplo, puppies, and Japanese girls. Creamy goodness.
And before I catch hell in the comments for this one, let's remember what it says in the Bible: "Let she who does not have a web site for her dog cast the first stone."
(links via
catchdubs)
Hey Fry-man, I know its been a while, but... I'm not gettin' humped by a giant red gorilla in space.
Ok, since I got a little hardcore with my post about pit bulls yesterday, I thought I'd lighten things up today and give you all some funny
dog pictures to make you giggle this lovely Friday morning. These are from the "Transport My Dog" (not to be confused with "Trainspot My Dog," wherein you try to find out which records someone's dog is playing), doggie day camp in Colombia.
What I wanna know is, how the hell did they get those dogs to sit in their seats? You can't even get children to do that, or even adults for that matter, if said adults are 16 Brass Taxers on a non-stop hell-raisin' flight to London.
Note: Picture at right was taken before things devolved into this.
Have you ever seen a Commie drink a glass of water?
Ok, ok, I know that I've been watching too much Alias. That's probably why I've been having dreams in which I die (yes, die- so much for that myth that if you die in dreams you also die in real life) from breathing poison gas and falling from the sides of buildings. Granted. But when you spend several hours of your life every week watching the DVD exploits of fictional CIA agents it's hard not to start seeing conspiracy and intrigue everywhere. Yeah,
sure those are PG&E employees drilling holes with a jackhammer in front of my bedroom window every morning- not some form of slow psychological torture aimed at triggering violent reactions in randomly chosen human guinea pigs, i.e. the residents of Waller Street. Whatever.
So I felt somewhat vindicated when I read this on
Boingboing this morning. It's an excerpt from the same book that brought
Mike the Headless Chicken to my attention, so you know it's gonna be good. It's from a book called
THE WORLD'S WORST: A Guide to the Most Disgusting, Hideous, Inept and Dangerous, People, Places and Things on Earth. This entry details the exploits of another CIA agent named Sidney, but believe me, folks, this guy is no Jennifer Garner. In fact, he's been named the "Maddest Mad Scientist." Meet Sidney Gottlieb:
On a warm autumn evening in Paris in 1952, a 25-year-old, up-and-coming American artist named Stanley Glickman was enjoying a coffee at his favorite haunt, the Café Dome in Montparnasse. Perhaps he spent the moment thinking of his Canadian girlfriend who was touring Europe at the time, or of the painting he’d completed that was hanging in New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art.
In any case, Glickman’s musings were interrupted when an acquaintance approached him and invited him to have a drink across the street at the Café Select. He accepted. There, the artist and his companion were joined by an unfamiliar group of Americans. Dressed in unfashionably straight-laced clothing, the strangers espoused political beliefs that were highly disagreeable to Glickman. After hours of hotly contested debate, the artist decided to pay his part of the bill and go home, but one of the strangers—a man with a clubfoot—insisted on buying him a drink as a way to make up for their argument. Instead of calling over the waiter who’d been serving drinks to the party all evening, the clubfooted man went to the bar himself and bought a Chartreuse for Glickman.
Before he even finished his cocktail, Glickman began to feel “funny.” The walls appeared to move, the electric lights in the café were ringed with halos, and wine bottles seemed to levitate on Glickman’s silent behest. Another member of the party told Glickman that he was now capable of “performing miracles.” link
Of course he was doing it all in the interest of "national security." For more on Gottlieb and his little "pranks," and to find out why you should never drink the punch at the CIA Christmas party, check out
this site, which goes so far as to claim that Gottlieb may have even been the inspiration behind this guy:
"It's incredibly obvious, isn't it? A foreign substance is introduced into our precious bodily fluids without the knowledge of the individual. Certainly without any choice. That's the way your hard-core Commie works." Gen. Jack T. Ripper, Dr. Strangelove
How close to death is that doggie in the window?
Just saw
this article yesterday, and it made me pretty mad. Denver has instituted a blanket ban on pit bulls, including "any dog that looks like a pit bull. The animal's actual behavior does not matter." Imagine that you're living in Denver, and you've got a pit bull (or even just a dog that resembles a pit bull) that you've had for years. You got him from a reputable breeder, or maybe you saved him from the pound. You had him neutered and have kept him up-to-date with all of his shots. You've taken him to obedience training and he passed every test they could throw at him.
You've invested time and money into your pet, but more importantly, he's part of your family, and you love him as such. But under this kind of shitty Breed-Specific Legislation (aka BSL), animal control workers can just show up and take your dog and have him put to sleep, just like that. Doesn't that just seem wrong?
Now, I live in West Oakland, home to several scary, untrained pit bulls, including some strays. I have to avoid walking
Windy down certain streets because I've been warned by neighbors that some of said scary pit bulls have busted out of their fences. Thus I'm not a total softy on this issue: if one of these pit bulls (or any dog, for that matter) were to attack Windy or me, I would do everything in my power to have that dog put to sleep and have the owner fined or thrown in jail. There is no excuse for people who keep vicious dogs that they can't control, and while I know that it's not the dog's fault, but rather the ignorant owner, I still believe that once one of these dogs has gone bad, it will always have the potential to do it again. But does that make all pit bulls evil? Hell no. Would I support Breed-Specific Legislation even if Windy were killed by a pit bull? Still, no.
California is currently considering passing a similar
bill, but fortunately it's not nearly the blanket-approach taken by Denver, and there are enough pit bull-friendly activists following the bill that it will likely have most BSL removed by the time it passes. If you think that all pit bulls are evil and deserved to be discriminated against (or killed) for whatever reason, I strongly recommend you
educate yourself before you get into an argument with anyone on the matter.
Gaultier будет богом
This one's for Stefbot, who was doing Slavic couture back before it was cool. Take a look at Gaultier's Autumn/Winter 2005-06 Haute Couture collection in Paris.
Someone's doing the polka. Knew they would come around eventually.
(Title translates to Gaultier is God. Well, as far as you know it does, anyway. Writers on this blog can't really be arsed to fact check things like that, so you'll have to take our word for it.)
Take My Guinea Pig...Please.
Jess's "Quote of the Day"(TM) post below reminded me of two times recently where I had to repeatedly kick my own ass for not having a camera on me at all times. You know those times where you see something that's just so perfectly fucked up that you want to take a picture and share it with everyone you know? The kinds of things that people would take pictures of in those camera-phone commercials if the commercials weren't concerned with being TV-friendly. Well I didn't have a camera phone when I needed one, but through the magic of words and our friend the internet, I'm going to attempt to share these pictures with y'all anyhow.
Photo One comes from the day I got my dog,
Windy, from a
Rocket Dog Rescue doggie adoption event. Jess, Jeffro and I went to go look at doggies, who were all traipsing around the sidewalk while the volunteers tried to get people to adopt them. One of said volunteers was a goofy-looking dude who was carrying around a vigorously shedding guinea pig.
The kid was covered with fur coat of guinea pig hair. For some reason, he decides we're gonna be his buddies, Jeffro in particular. He tells us he's a "rodent rescuer" and starts trying to pawn the nasty thing off on Jeffro. Finally Jeffro agrees to hold it for a moment, and we realize the kid's shirt, underneath all the guinea pig hair, says "I (heart) Cocaine." Priceless.
Photo Two took place a few weeks ago when Prince Pablo and I were walking back to work from lunch. There was a dude selling some sort of wares from a table set up on the sidewalk just off of Market Street downtown. He looked kind of like a burned out version of Santa, and on this particularly sunny day Santa had decided to take his shirt off to air out his white Santa back hair. (I'm just now realizing that both of these vignettes involve copious amounts of nasty hair...go figure). I guess his shirt had been chafing his back or something, because as Paul and I pass by, he starts using a comb to scratch his back, but then he spaces out and starts combing his back hair with the freakin' comb like it ain't no thing. We had to stop and watch for a minute just to burn the image into our heads. You just can't script things better than that.
RODENT UPDATE:
Oh shit, call in the rodent rescue! Reminds me of back when I was in high school in Malvern, Pennsylvania, and one of the local newscasters, Jerry Penacoli, was rumored to have gotten a
gerbil stuck in his ass. We used to sing the Yankee Doodle Dandy song, with the words changed to "stuck a gerbil up his butt and called it Penacoli."
Shepherd to Lost Sheep: Cooter Comes Out Swingin'
Ben Jones, aka Cooter from Dukes of Hazzard, and now owner of
Cooter's Place in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, is calling for fans of the original Dukes TV show to boycott the new Dukes movie.
"Like you, I haven't seen the film, but I have read the script, I've talked to a lot of people who worked on the set, and I've seen the raunchy t.v. commercial. Frankly, I think the whole project shows an arrogant disrespect for our show, for our cast, for America's families, and for the sensibilities of the heartland of our country. Unless they clean it up before the August 5th release date I would strongly recommend that true blue Dukes fans hold their noses and pass this one up."
Damn. Spoken like a true
Representative of the American peoples. You can read the full extent of Cooter's diss
here.
I myself am pissed about the movie for one reason only (well, aside from the whole trend of Hollywood destroying every last one of our cherished childhood TV shows): not that they have Jessica Simpson playing Daisy, but that she's freakin' BLONDE. That's just wrong. Daisy was an inspiration for brunette little girls across the land. Inspiring us to what, I'm not quite sure, I just remember I idolized Daisy almost as much as Princess Leia when I was growing up. But Jessica Simpson? Please.
Kind of surprised that our good friend Willie would take part in a project that had the power to rile Cooter up so much, but hey, it's Willie. He was probably just honored to be asked to play the part of wise old Uncle Jesse, and to have the chance to drive the Midnight Runner. That car was Bad Ass.
"Cheerleaders are dancers who have gone retarded...Follow me, or perish, sweater monkeys."
OK, so everyone's favorite high school DJ, aka DingDong, came home from Amoeba last night with
Fannypack's new album (which, based on a very brief listen, is great). "Have you heard about my new favorite genre?" he asks me, dropping the cd in my boombox, "It's called 'Cheer Hop'."
That's right. Cheer Hop.
If you want to know what the hell DingDong is talking about, good luck, and let me know when you find out...um, I mean, come to the Bunnycamp Fundraiser tonight at Sublounge. Don't be late, cuz he's playing at 9.
For the record, you heard it here first.
Cheer Hop is the new Breaks.
P.S. And honestly, wouldn't all you fellas prefer to see your lady friends dressed up like clean, cute, perky
cheer-tators, rather than those crusty, dreadlocked El Circo clones?
We're here to steal your pornography, and sodomize our vast imaginations.
In the spirit of Stefbot's last post, and this blog's obsession with ATHF:
Which Aquateen Hunger Force character are you?
I'm Master Shake:
"You're the leader of the Aqua Teen Hunger Force! Nobody seems to listen to you though, so you kick Meatwad around to make up for it."
Yeah, right. In the immortal words of Ash from
Army of Darkness, I "ain't leadin' but two things: Jack and shit... and Jack just left town." The "nobody seems to listen to you" part is right on enough though. Can't wait to see who turns out to be Meatwad, cause I'll be seein you a bit later, little guy...
Everybody hates me 'cause they die or get hurt.
I took a quiz called "What childhood toy from the 80s are you?" and this is what I got:
You're My Little Pony!! Sweet and innocent and happy, you make people want to spew burrito chunks. Even a Care Bear could kick your ass.
You can take the quiz
here.
I don't think a Care Bear could kick my ass though. A gummi bear, maybe, but only because they've got that damn
gummi berry juice. And speaking of gummi bears, if you ever wanted to hear their theme song in Polish,
now you can!
Follow the white rabbit
If you're not doing anything on Thursday, come down to Sublounge for the
Bunnycamp fundraiser. If you are doing something on Thursday, break those lame plans and come down to Sublounge for the Bunnycamp fundraiser. Two floors of music by
Brass Tax and Bunnycamp DJs, plus others, and cute girls in bunny ears and stuff (please don't ask them to "nibble your carrot," and dear god, refrain from referring to their rabbit holes. They've heard it a billion times before. Wasn't funny then, not funny now. Except in the case of Feinberg. She's freaky like that.) It starts at 8pm, and if you get there early you can hear a set by Jerome, who in addition to being one hell of an underpants gnome (he always gives 110%) is also the tallest DJ in San Francisco! Hooray!
By the way, if you like these images, they are by an artist named Luke Chueh. I lurve him. Check out
his site where you can see more of his work, including my personal favorite,
ME PLAY JOKE, pictured right. (thanks, Jeffro!)
What Motherf@#ing Child Is This?
Okay, here's a game. If the creature in Jess's post below is what it would look like if she and I had a baby, whose baby is this thing? (It's actually a seven-day old
Stump-Tailed macaque, but who's counting?) My first guess is that it's the baby of Jeffro and Einstein. Goddamn that would be one smart-assed baby.
I give unto you...
You ever come across a quote so perfect, so succinct, so goddamn spot on that even when it’s taken out of context you just fall in love with it? You want to pass it on to others in the hope that maybe, just maybe, it will bring to someone else’s life the same little moment of brightness, of joie de vive that it brought to yours? Well I do. And from now on I’ll be collecting these quotes and posting them under the heading, “QUOTE OF THE DAY”* (TM, cue trumpets).
I’d like to start it off with a little piece of just right that comes to us courtesy of
Prettygirl:
"My dick stinks. Everyone says so."See what I mean? Fried gold.
* QUOTE OF THE DAY is somewhat of a misnomer due to the fact that the quote of the day will by no means be a daily occurrence. It will, in fact, occur pretty much whenever I damn well feel like it. You can’t force greatness people.
It's that good
You know that damn Willie album is gonna be the bee's balls now that the two people whose opinions you respect most in the world have told you about it (wink wink). Now go get it!!
Stefbot and Jess. Like bananas and bacon, two great tastes that taste great together.
PS-- If Stefanie and I had a baby:
If You've Got the Money, I and I Got the Time
Breaking news from Graffiti the Ghost's Bureau of Willie Nelson Affairs: Willie is releasing a reggae album tomorrow, complete with pot leaf cover art. While initial reviews have indicated that it's not the greatest album ever, it's still notable in that it features a reggae song written by Johnny and June Carter Cash, which Willie sings as a duet with Toots of Toots & the Maytals. Wha...? I read about it in
this article, which aside from covering the new album, is also a pretty interesting little article about Willie in general, from his political views to his
tour with Bob Dylan.
Not that any of us will be surprised by this, but Wal-Mart wins the "Retard-Retard-Retard-Retard" Award (TM) for replacing the pot leaf on the album cover with a palm tree. Dude...it's Willie Nelson, not
Miami Sound Machine.
Back from the dead
Yeah, you're not getting rid of me that easily. It's true that I was taken down by a very ugly bug, but only because my immunity was weakened by that goddamned three day weekend. Three day weekends were invented by the devil to lead the righteous into temptation. And that was some righteous temptation, let me tell you.
I won't go into gory detail, but you can see pics of the Sunday portion of it on the
Wildlife website. A disclaimer: it is pure coincidence that the picture of a bag of empty whippits is right next to a pic of Amy and me giggling. At least I'm pretty sure it wouldn't hold up as evidence in a court of law.
Oh, and I met a new man! That's right. A younger man. His name's Otis. Isn't he dreamy? He can take down a sapling using just his teeth. That's cool.
Moving on, nice to see that Stefbot caught you up on some of the top news stories of the week. Here are some more tidbits of info that you have no business walking around not knowing:
I and I be Willie! That's right, the redheaded stranger is trying his hand at Reggae:
That Nelson's country songs stand up so well to reggae's offbeat syncopation and upstroke guitar strums is a testament to their durability. Nelson said he recorded them about 10 years ago in Los Angeles with Jamaican musicians, including some from the late reggae star Peter Tosh's band.
"The musicians told me that reggae was invented really by listening to country music coming from the United States. They put their own rhythms to those tunes," he said.
Can't wait to hear it. If anyone has heard it already, please post your thoughts on it in the comments.
Now, I don't make it a habit to post celeb gossip items on this blog. That's why god made
Defamer (thanks, God!). But this one falls squarely in the category of seriously freaking me out, so I had to pass it on.
Katie, your strings are showing big time, girl.
Also,
skateboarder survives jump over the Great Wall.
Sheep not so lucky. Wow, if this whole animal suicide trend continues, we may have to learn how to
manufacture meat in a lab. Oh, alright then. Well done! (Via
Boingboing)
Teeth are for gay people
...That's why faeries come to get them.
Well, it seems that the ole Jessperado has been too sick to post, so allow me to fill up a moment of your Friday afternoon with two notable bits of news.
Exhibit A: You thought they were
bad at driving...Exhibit B: Apparently, in Massachusetts, you still need to fight for your right to
pa-a-a-arty. Today is a good day to be happy that you live in the city by teh bay, where the cops come to your party to look at pretty girls, rather than to throw drunk boys to the ground in a sad attempt to prove their manliness.
G'wan School:boy
Tonight: come out to Amnesia and help us send our Sound:boy off to school. Damn they grow up so fast don't they? And
take a walk down memery lane*, while you're at it.
And on Sunday it's the second installment of
Parklife. Good thing we have Monday off.
*No, that wasn't a misspelling of memory. I threw that pun in there cause Colin likes puns. Like that? I thought so.
Pic via
explodingdog.com. You know why.
