I pity the fool who don't play with finger puppets
This, my friends, is what Mr. T as B.A. ("Bad Attitude") Baracus looks like in finger puppet form.
It was made by a nutter in Scotland, who designs under the name "dingdongdesigns," oddly enough. You can get yours (and other cute things) at
Etsy. Not sure if any of those finger puppet table retailers around the city have Mr. T - I know I've never seen one.
While researching this post (yeah that's right, I'm researching Mr. T...what, like you have better things to do at your job today?), I found that Mr. T also pities the fool who wears too much bling. Yep, T
stopped wearing his gold chains after helping Katrina victims and seeing how the people down there were living. "I felt it would be a sin against my God for me to wear all that gold again," he says. Take that,
Mary J. Blige.
T's also got a new show coming up on TV Land called
I Pity the Fool, where he travels around helping people who are in need of a little Mr. T-style life coaching. God bless ya, Mr. T. I would like to suggest that you start with Lindsay Lohan.
Coincidentally, even before I stumbled upon the Mr. T finger puppet (while doing research for my Hellaween costume), I was already on a big A-Team kick. I don't know what set it off. I'm hoping that four of our dude friends will be the A-Team for Hellaween (you gotta get on that before the
movie comes out and ruins all that was good and true about the A-Team). That's B.A., Hannibal, Murdock and Face, for those who are counting. P.S. these
A-Team quotes rule.
Wicked
I love music. I love writing. I hate writing about music. I'm a firm believer in the adage "writing about music is like dancing about politics." Ok, I don't even know if that is an adage, but if it's not, it should be.
Not to mention the fact that music writing for the most part is pretentious and boring. So rather than add my own blend of smarm to an already dubious journalistic genre, let me just say that I am so freakin glad to see a return to the devil horns in the air, tease your bangs and cruise the strip in your cousin's Firebird, good old fashioned lightening up your arse Arena Rock. Not since the days of Judas Priest, Black Sabbath and Queen has the world seen the likes of these little freaks. Do yourself a favor. Put on your headphones, turn up the volume, and check out
Wolfmother. As soon as the whiplash heals from that sesh, cruise over to
Muse. Then, just for good measure, getcha some
The Mars Volta. Better than a high colonic, trust.
And walk like an Egyptian
I'm sure you are all aware that yesterday was International
Talk Like a Pirate Day. "International?" you say? Aye, me hearties,
international.
And continuing the tradition from last year, we will once again be pillaging and plundering the
Love Fest floats whilst dressed, drinking and cursing like pirates this Saturday. Be there or find yourself swabbing the deck, matey.
P.S. I wrote this entire post using my new pirate keyboard! (Big ups to Pablo for the pic.)
Barely Legal
In addition to being the name of Jeffro's favorite "photojournal," was the name of the Banksy warehouse show we attended yesterday evening. Here are some pics:
And yes, that is a real live pink elephant in the room. And
everyone was talking about it.
See more complete (and definitely better photographed) coverage
here, including pics of the VIP opening night, where Brangelina, Meg White, and Perry Farrell's wife's breasts were among the list of ginormous celebrities in attendance. Rumor has it Brad and Angie scored no less than 10 of Banksy's works, paying as much as 100K for one piece alone. That'll buy a lot of spraypaint.
Oh, and here's Jeff in his fancy driving goggles. They're all the rage with Echo Park hipsters in the know.
Anyone who's interested can also check out pics of
Bubbles, the installation I've been helping my friends Juintow and Michael complete over the last few weeks. The opening night was Friday, just in time for the Silverlake Art Crawl (which, quite frankly, kinda looked more like an art stumble by the end of the night. Who knew art could give you such a hangover?).
Incineration! You are the Insult Master!
Banksy strikes again, but this time his target is an innocent heiress who is just trying to show the world that her only talent isn't spreading her legs for B-list celebs and the occasional photo op. Harsh, guy. Seriously, that's cold.
My bad: that's hot.
Those of you who are going to be in the City of Angels September 15-17 can see Banksy's "mindless vandalism and pretty pictures" live at a
warehouse show. Might be a good time to plan a visit, no?
(In honor of my purchase this weekend of ATHF Season 4, I am reverting to the former convention of taking all titles for posts directly from the series.)
Coincidentally, even before I stumbled upon the Mr. T finger puppet (while doing research for my Hellaween costume), I was already on a big A-Team kick. I don't know what set it off. I'm hoping that four of our dude friends will be the A-Team for Hellaween (you gotta get on that before the movie comes out and ruins all that was good and true about the A-Team). That's B.A., Hannibal, Murdock and Face, for those who are counting. P.S. these A-Team quotes rule.
