Barber College

Long Gone

2007-03-19T00:12:00.000-04:00

Screw This

2007-03-16T15:21:00.000-04:00

We're out of here. Check back Monday for the link to the new digs. Somebody is gonna get pregnant, indeed. We'll see you on the other side.

All is right with the world

2007-03-14T14:52:00.000-04:00

Sorry for the total lack of posts in the last few weeks. Big changes are in the works here at BC.

Anyway, in the meantime, let us congratulate our good buddy - and greatest interview ever - Andrew W.K. on his new career: public speaker!

Try to be myself but i lose track 'cause the shit gets complicated now i've got to get back

2007-02-21T13:17:00.000-05:00

Sup, hobos? Sorry for having been at out at sea for so long. What savage forces have conspired to keep your beloved Barbers from making astronaut-diaper jokes?

Perhaps this handy pie chart will explain what we’ve been doing instead of blogging:
Oh ho ho, that took three hours to make! Shit that would have been a hilarious fifth piece of the pie — 15% pie-chart designing. Damn, how does the Onion do it every week???

Annnnnyways shake yourself out of your post-Paczki Day jelly-filling comas and lend me your ears; I’ve got science to drop.

We’re planning to relaunch the site, but R&D delays have kept its mighty visual splendor and slowcrafted laughableness from you. It’s debatable what will happen at this point. We might adopt a cute orphan child and force him/her to post, we might try psychically posting directly into your minds. It could happen, till then sit tight.

Obama-rama

2007-02-11T03:45:00.000-05:00

It's official!

The FOX News hit squad's gonna have some serious fun with this election. A woman AND a black man who was raised Muslim are running for president.

And to answer John Gibson's question: Yes, I plan on it.

CNN asks...

2007-02-07T12:10:00.000-05:00

Was Prince's Super performance too revealing?

No. The answer is no. Let's not go through this again, America. A silhouette of a man playing a guitar does not equal porn.

Because Wal-Mart is the arbiter of taste

2007-01-31T11:52:00.000-05:00

Quote of the year: "It's offensive to me and my family. I have a 17-year-old daughter. I have school buses that come by, and we have to look at this artwork that wouldn't be seen on the cover of a magazine in Wal-Mart."

The Guessing Game: Seger Edition

2007-01-24T19:36:00.000-05:00

Fifty percent of Barber College employees find the music of Bob Seger pedestrian and boring. Can you guess which half?

(Note: One hundred percent of Barber College employees were born and raised in Michigan and attended school in Ann Arbor.)

News from the newsfront...

2007-01-16T21:02:00.000-05:00

Big changes are coming, personally and bloggily. Stay tuned.

“Let’s Get the Hell Out Of Here!”

2007-01-08T17:50:00.000-05:00

Couldn’t agree more, tommy-gun-toting condiment Lincoln.

We’d be remiss in bloggite duties (already dangerously close to losing our license), if we didn’t point out that despite a couple nice personal victories, the past year pretty much reeked of ass.

That includes wars, baseball and the general performance of this blog.

Oh sure there was the odd Hold Steady album/marriage to pull us through, but we’re lazy generalist at heart so we have to cross our arms and badmouth another year. Our scheduled BC summit on the first got delayed by a couple of badly-considered bottled Napa Valley exports. I’d sigh, but it was this ner-do-well sloppiness that carried our forefathers to glory.

So we’ll press on without a formal playbook and with an ever slipping-grasp of what people enjoy reading about. Sometimes I think we’re getting too mean-spirited, but then again I’m the wuss who didn’t want to kill-off any characters in the spring play back in high school. I sometimes wonder what I worried about. Anyways, bad taste isn’t a crime, though I sometimes wonder if it should be.

If a newspaper is a country conversing with itself, than a blog a minor principality drunk dialing itself in the wee, small hours. Wait did I say that before? Did I read it somewhere else? What the hell does it take to have an original effing idea these days? Don’t bother googling it, I don’t want to know (If this comes off grumpy by the way, it’s cause my furnace wasn’t working when I got home last night so I woke up cold and cold I seem to have stayed all day).

Joel emailed me this morning to ask what I thought we should be writing about these days, but I’m still working out what to say. The comforts of rock music, literature and ice cream seem to be fading, Big Little Buddy. Sometimes you have to get all Garfield on a Monday afternoon and wonder if you’re ready to move on to Tuesday. But I like Tuesdays. It’s my favorite day of the week. Somebody has to like it best. God knows I’m plenty busy putting off starting my novel and disliking my job, but I’ll take one for the team.

So all hands on deck. There are plenty of fresh graves to piss on and heaps of shit yet to talk. BC in ’07. A Year of Magic.

The Future of Comedy

2007-01-08T17:19:00.000-05:00

AD may be dead, but shit like this makes it not hurt so bad.

The Day I Accidentally Attended Gerald Ford's Funeral Procession

2007-01-03T15:32:00.000-05:00

Disclaimer: If you've ever read this blog or talked to me for more than five seconds, you probably know that nothing is sacred to me, so this might be pretty goddamn offensive to some of you.

---

So I was out all night with my friend Eric yesterday, and I ended up crashing at his place in East Hills, just outside of Grand Rapids. We got up around noon and went to Wolfgang's, a diner on Lake Drive in Eastown. Around 12:30 people were lining up along Lake, and we realized the the dead prez was gonna be rolling through soon! Roads were closed, city and military police were out in force. So we did what anyone in our situation would do: We watched the procession and made snide comments.

Some things that actually came out of my mouth during the procession:

"This is the worst parade I've ever seen."

"Why did he have to die in the winter? It's fucking cold."

"Why did he have to die the day after James Brown and totally steal JB's thunder? James Brown did so much more for this country. He invented three of the greatest genres ever."

"This is probably the only time a president can ride in a parade without having to worry about snipers." (Re: People sitting on a rooftop across the street)

"Betty Ford looks like shit."

---

Here are some pictures. You can blame the quality on Eric, because I was busy manning the vid.

Yep. All these people lined up to watch a hearse pass.

"Welcome home!!! Sorry you're... dead."

What did this poor MP do to deserve Gerald Ford funeral procession duty in Grand Rapids, Mich.?

Eric captured only the back of the hearse it would appear. I guess that's the important half.

The MPs were pretty polite, but the woman in the orange shirt was pretty bitchy.

---

I'll whip up a little video tribute to GR's favorite son as soon as my battery finishes charging. In honor of Gerald Ford's football-playing days at the U, it will feature music by Ann Arbor's own MC5. He would have wanted it that way.

We waited a whole week only 'cause he was a wolverine

2007-01-02T13:38:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year (a day early)!

2006-12-31T04:16:00.000-05:00

Chances are I'll be incapacitated and/or watching football all day Monday, so this counts as my HNY for 2007. See ya on the flip side, fuckers.

What we talk about, when we talk about love.

2006-12-30T11:12:00.000-05:00

11:03:27 AM joelhoard: hey there
11:03:35 AM sgserilla: hello
11:04:03 AM sgserilla: http://www.edbegley.com/store/index.php?cat_id=1&catname='Ed's%20Autograph'
11:04:14 AM sgserilla: it's not too late to get me a xmas gift
11:04:37 AM joelhoard: you want the index card or the headshot?
11:05:42 AM sgserilla: i want ed begley jr
11:05:48 AM joelhoard: ahh
11:06:01 AM joelhoard: dead or alive?
11:06:13 AM sgserilla: he's no good to me dead!
11:06:19 AM sgserilla: just rough him up a bit
11:06:26 AM joelhoard: how bout i put him in a jar?
11:06:48 AM sgserilla: he's not that cool
11:06:58 AM sgserilla: a sack will do
11:07:01 AM joelhoard: ok
11:07:04 AM joelhoard: burlap?
11:07:14 AM sgserilla: whatevs

Inside Barber College, Part 3

2006-12-29T01:23:00.000-05:00

Questions for Scott, who's incredibly busy right now. I hope he'll find time to answer them as an Xmas gift to me though.

Some have said this is the greatest blog ever. I'm inclined to agree. What makes us so great?
A general indifference to the laws of thermodynamics.

If you could realize your lifelong dream of becoming a professional baseball player, but you had to play right field for the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, would you still do it?
I wanted to work for the CIA so I’ll pretend you asked if I would still be a spy for the tiny nation of Luxemburg — Yes, yes I would.

Same question, but replace "professional baseball player" with "rock-n-roll superstar" and "right field for the Tampa Bay Devil Rays" with "bass for the eighth incarnation of Journey."
Sure and I hate Journey. Livin’ the dream at a lower level doesn’t have to be bad as long as you don’t lie to yourself and think it’s the top. Why should I stop believing just cause I have to play “Don’t Stop Believing” every night.

BTW, according to Wikipedia, the current bass player Journey is the original bass player. DO YOUR HOMEWORK NEXT TIME SMART ASS!

I think every Christmas song save for "O Holy Night," which is fucking beautiful, should be banned. Are there any you would save?
I love lots of Xmas music; the aforementioned “Fairy Tale of New York,” everything on the James Brown Xmas cassette my dad played all through my childhood. I say crank the Bing Crosby and don’t worry so much.

We haven't had a blog feud in quite some time. Any targets you have in mind?
Fuck those losers at AskJeeves.

Come up with a question for this answer: Ya know Scott, just when I thought you couldn't sink any lower, you went and asked me about that night. I thought what happens in Omaha stays in Omaha. Isn't that how the saying goes?
Hey Joel could you answer this question with mock indignation and throw in a reference to the insurance capital of the Midwest?

I just got back from LA. It was fucking cold there. Warmer in The D than in LA. How fucked up is that shit?
Totally it was like when "MASK" became all about car racing in the third or fourth season and I was all like, "why must everything I love gradually turn into shit." Disappointing no matter what climate you live in.

If Jesus's birthday is called Christmas, why can't my birthday be called J-Homas?
It would be too easily confused with J-Holmas, which is of course the longest day of the year. OOOOOO! THAT TOOK ME A WEEK TO COME UP WITH!

Yeah, but he was no Godfather

2006-12-27T13:59:00.000-05:00

As a pair of University of Michigan grads, we're obligated to mention that this guy died. I have a particular duty, being a Grand Rapids native and all. He may have been a Republican, but I guess he was pretty cool. See ya, Gerry.

Why do our heroes keep dying?

2006-12-25T10:11:00.000-05:00

Ask a Barber, Volume 1, Issue 1

2006-12-23T00:14:00.000-05:00

Dear J-Ho,

I watch too much TV. I never get anything done. Please help me kick this terrible addiction.

Cable Junkie, MO

Dear Junkie,

I suggest cigarettes. Television addiction is no laughing matter, but nicotine addiction sure is. Ugly, overweight people who devour pounds of Mallomars daily are addicted to TV. Think the mother in "What's Eating Gilbert Grape." Cool, hip people smoke cigarettes. Think James Dean and Steve McQueen. Next time you get the urge to pick up that remote and turn on "What Not To Wear," instead reach for a pack of Natural American Spirits, the world's finest cigarettes.*

Love,

J-Ho

Dear Joely,

I think my boss wants me dead. We don’t get along at all and he tears all my work apart every chance he gets. What can I do?

Scared Shitless in Saginaw

Dear Triple-S,

I see only one viable solution. Travel to rural Japan for ninja training and silently murder your boss before he gets you. Training may take several years, but it will all pay off in the end when you see your boss's eyes roll back into his severed head as it spins on his desk. Be forewarned, however. Failure to flawlessly execute this plan will leave you with one out: seppuku.

Love,

J-Ho

Hoard,

I’m having trouble blogging lately. I really want to, but real-life stuff keeps popping up. What can I do to keep from letting my fans down more than I already have?

Broken in Brooklyn

Dear BiB,

Are you suggesting that blogging is somehow separate from real life? I consider that an affront. As they say in your part of the world, go fuck yaself, ya shit-eating bitch. Leave the blogging to the warriors.

Love,

J-Ho

Dear Joel,

I have been wasting my life reading books, but I want to start being cool like you. What websites should I check every three seconds.

M, Boston

Dear M,

Just this one.

Love,

J-Ho

Dear Joel,

I am desperately sexually attracted to your blogging partner, Scott. How can I totally jump his bones or get him to notice me????

Lusty Groupie, CA

Dear Groupie,

Unfortunately, Scott is already married to a very lovely young lass, so you'll have to bottle up your emotions. I can tell by the abundance of question marks in your letter that your feelings run deep. I suggest finding all the pictures of Scott that you can and plastering them all over your bedroom. Then lie in bed and stare at them night and day while repeating the mantra "He loves me! He loves me!" ad infinitum. This won't help you get any closer to him, but it will keep you occupied and will allow Scott to lead a normal, stalker-free life.

Love,

J-Ho

* This response sponsored by Santa Fe Natural Tobacco Company, makers of fine Natural American Spirit products.

Holiday cheer!

2006-12-20T21:38:00.000-05:00

What a dicktard.

Happy Holidays From Scott and J-Ho

2006-12-16T12:43:00.000-05:00

If you could travel through time or fax yourself from the future, what would you say?

"Take care of your mutherfucking teeth." Best advice you'll get all year. Till then at least take care of each other.

You scumbag, you maggot,
You cheap lousy faggot.
Happy Christmas you arse
I pray God it's our last.

Inside Barber College, Part 2

2006-12-10T10:25:00.000-05:00

Random questions for Mr. Hoard:

What was the last thing you ate?

I had some Spartan brand macaroni & cheese for breakfast this morning. It tasted like $0.33. It was one step above ramen and one step below Campbell's tomato soup. While we're on the subject, I think we should discuss how more foods should be dehydrated then rehydrated right before we eat them. See, water has a huge chip on its shoulder. It's all "I'm the most important thing on the planet! You can't live without me!" It would put water in its place to only call on it when we need it. Water would be like "Let me be in your dinner!" and we'd be like "Naw, man. We got this shit covered for now. We'll give you a call when it's time to eat."

What can fans expect from your next album?

Lots and lots of drama surrounding its release. I'm planning on signing to Def Jam, getting kicked off for giving Russell Simmons's daughters weed, signing to Interscope, getting kicked off for stealing Jimmy Iovine's car and driving it to Puerto Rico (trust me - it can be done) and finally signing to Def Jux, before getting kicked off for calling El-P an Uncle Tom. As for the sound, I would describe it as the Velvet Underground on even more heroin, mixed in a blender with a cougar, flying in a World War I biplane, with a dash of Robert Johnson-influenced jug band on top. It'll be the loudest, most pretentious record ever made. I'd give it 2-1/2 stars.

If you could banish one phrase from the parlance of our times what would it be?

This is an easy one. No phrase infuriates me more than "I like to have a good time." Is there some wacky underground network of people bent on having a bad time? You might be tempted to argue that sadists, masochists, and sadomasochists like to have a bad time, but it's all relative. What's weird and painful for us is a good time for them. If you ever hear someone say "I like to have a good time," you can correctly assume that 1) the person is boring and 2) all the person really likes to do is drink and go to shitty nightclubs.

OPTIONAL FOLLOW-UP: Instead you may choose to strike one color or odor from the universe, but you have to decide what to replace it with.

There really aren't any smells that bother me too much, so I'm going with pants. I would replace pants with flowing, gender-neutral skirts.

What’s your favorite movie cliché?

The Big Game. It's a metaphor for how we spend all our days preparing for one big event, usually somewhere between two weeks and three months away. Despite all the adversity along the way, we end up winning. No one ever loses. Ever. It's how life works.

A co-worker of mine just said, “mm this is a really good Foreigner song” when “Cold as Ice” came on the radio — do you believe: a). That’s oxymoronic. b). On the contrary, that song rocks unironically and Lou Gramm is a god. c). On the grand scale of things the inevitable civil war caused by the troop withdrawals the Democrats are currently advocating couldn’t possibly destabilize the region any more worse than our presence has in the first place.

This *might* be a trick question, but I have to go with my gut and pick (b). If you can't appreciate the rawk, you just ain't got a soul.

One of your many glamorous Hollywood liaisons approaches you after a recent tryst and announces she is with child. Knowing that the little bastard will be in the public eye and that your next weekend opening numbers depend on this kid being a sensation, what do you choose to name the kid?

Detroit Michigan Hydroponic Stanley Relatively Obsequious Mongoose Hoard XXXIV.

In retrospect what’s your biggest regret? Answers must be limited to scientific discoveries.

So many to choose from... I'm gonna go with that black hole I discovered that's about 3.01e128 light years away, but only because the contest to name said black hole was open only to children between the ages of five and nine. Personally, I would have called it something like Hawkingpalooza, but Mr. Poopie Pants won.

Why don’t we post more?

Quality over quantity. This blog is more Big Star than Guided by Voices.

Inside Barber College, Part 1

2006-12-08T01:37:00.000-05:00

Ya know Scott, how crazy is it that we have, like, twelve people who read this blog every day?
I am vaguely aware of what kind of numbers you can get if you post each and everyday so I guess I always think we would have more readers if we tried harder, but then that means a lot more work out of the two of us and I have kids to feed!

I assume this answer drove away at least three readers. Well, who the hell needs you, Mom.

Ya know Scott, remember that time you beat that one kid with a Wiffle bat? How awesome was that?
For the record, he had a couch cushion to protect himself. I would never wail on an unarmed man like that. Oh yeah, it ruled though.

Ya know Scott, what exactly is the theme of this blog?
For a while it was about the ennui of post-grad life. Then we went through our VH1 phase and it was about weird stuff in the news and celebrities. Then it was about the folly of ugly people on the internet trying to make friends. Now I think it’s an ongoing dialogue about Russian literature and more specifically how neither of us have ever read any of it, nor intend to.

Ya know Scott, huh?
Indeed I do not, but I would dearly like to — oh ever so much. I would exchanging knowing nods with black youths on the street corner and between us would pass a moment of meaningful knowingness. I would mentor them in an after-school blogging workshop and they would open up to me right before the national high school blogging championships about the hardships of ghetto life and I could hold them tight as they sob and say, “I know, Jamal, I know.”

Ya know Scott, my cat likes to sleep in the bathroom sink. Is that weird?
I think it's kinda sweet. Very zen, very Frank Llyod Wright.

Ya know Scott, this joke needs a punchline: Two brothers are having dinner after their mother's funeral. One of them says to the other, "Ya know what I miss most about Mom? Every Sunday night we'd always have pot roast, and it was always fucking delicious. So then the other brother says, " (insert punchline) "
Whoa, whoa — let’s go back and fix the setup first — A. I don’t believe a word of it so far. People want their comedy to about everyday stuff like African baby adoption and sexually promiscuous starlets. This doom and gloom stuff has to go: Now the joke is about Scarlet Johansson and a under-fed Nigerian in a limo on their way to the Oscars. B. People need a catch phrase to pull them in; something they can say during sales meetings and everybody will know they also watch TV and they deserve to be respected goddamn it. C. Nobody is still reading this question. Anyways the brother says, “Didn’t you suck her dick enough during the eulogy?! YOU”RE LIVING LA VIDA LOCO!”

Ya know Scott, isn't it ironic that you're such a great writer, but your spelling/typing skills are lacking? Is that ironic? (Aubs?)
The best part is though is when my dyslexic is acting up, I know a storm front is rolling in.

It’s not ironic to me, Joel. Thinking writing is about the letters in the words is like thinking music is about the notes. Most people are bad writers cause they get hung up on the technicals and lose the special sauce. While I respect their talents to a point, most grammarians are elitist honkies trying to keep poor people down or head-in-the-sand dicktards (by the way I recommend stealing you special sauce from the Onion).

I absolutely have a problem, but how can I stop when my sloppiness is so gosh damn endearing! There is a theory that my undiagnosed learning disability is really the source of my mighty powers. I had to rewrite my brain to survive and the occasional sparks that fly can be beautiful. Would you ask Ray Charles or Daredevil if he would prefer to see if it meant give up their respective gifts? Ben Franklin, F. Scot and Shaw all couldn’t spell. The English language doesn’t deserve respect, bend it and twist it as you will. Spelling is for robots.

Ya know Scott, I really miss Mitch. Don't you?
I miss him, too. Someone that unrelentingly weird and sure of themselves is amazing. The theme of this blog should be to keep kids of the horse.

Ya know Scott, if you get to Heaven and you're allowed to ask God one question, but it had to be about badminton, what would it be?
I would try to use an analogy for a birdy that hits the net and still goes over as a metaphor for the existence of man. God would call me pretensious and then run off to make more toys for all the good boys and girls in his workshop.

sry i think u r rly pretty but i need something more from my 1st lady... still be my mistress? xoxo

2006-12-02T12:41:00.000-05:00

Contest time!

What did the text message (translated into English, of course) say?

Winner wins a prize (TBD).

Are we done yet?

2006-11-29T01:37:00.000-05:00

Does this complete the trifecta?

I don't think so either.

Scott, Stealer of Thunder

2006-11-22T22:24:00.000-05:00

I was totally gonna post that obit today. Damn. Oh well. This is a team effort.

Goddamn Sarlacc

2006-11-22T16:10:00.000-05:00

RIP, Boba.

Barber College Heroes Beware ...

2006-11-21T11:57:00.000-05:00

... these things come in threes. Bye, Bob. You're forcing Jesus to do 20 min. takes without a script now.

2006-11-17T12:56:00.000-05:00

go blue.

Mr. Hip Hop

2006-11-15T23:57:00.000-05:00

Mr. Hip Hop is live.

The geniuses at Aesthetic Apparatus explain (sorta):

MISTER HIP-HOPâ„¢ PARTY PACK

OH MY GAWD! This is years in the making. For those of you who have known us for a while you may have heard our hollow threats over the years of getting Mister Hip-Hopâ„¢ up and off the ground. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Mister Hip-Hopâ„¢ he is our golden ticket. He is our mega-merchandising monster that is going to make us millions and get us on the cover of Money magazine and everyone is going to ask us in interviews "How in the world did you do it? How did you make so much money off this stupid image of a dork with a mustache and glasses called Mister Hip-Hopâ„¢?!" We'll just reply " He's a viral memeoid, if you have to ask you don't understand anyway." and throw another stack of thousand dollar bills in the fireplace while we sip fine champagne out of our REAL gold-plated monkey skull goblets. For the love of the godz someone needs to buy these! Do it for the children!

You better get on this before someone scoops it and all you'll be able to
say is "Oh yeah, I think I've heard of that."

Here's a little light reading on my new favorite subject "Memetics" for ya' too.

South Africa is gay

2006-11-14T16:59:00.000-05:00

Civil Rights 2006: South Africa - 1, United States - 0.

Irony, anyone?

Worst Fan Fiction Ever

2006-11-11T10:25:00.000-05:00

Who is sitting around thinking, "Mmmm, there sure were a lot of unanswered questions about SkiFree."

Don't worry, I'm sure cancer will cure itself. No, no we've got it from here. You sit down and write yourself a nice little story about a stickfigure yeti.

Is that you Chad?

2006-11-10T14:31:00.000-05:00

(click on image for larger size)

No one is above a good vanity Googling. My favorite part is the "%20-%20" between "henne" and "handsome," which means the search query was "chad henne - handsome"

Note to Chad: Time to update Firefox!

Ooh, that smell. Can you smell that smell?

2006-11-08T02:20:00.000-05:00

It smells like victory.

The House has been decided, and I'm going to call the Senate in the Democrats' favor. I'm by no means a Democrat (they're not liberal enough for my tastes), but this is definitely a step in the right direction. Thank you for not fucking this one up, America. You're off the hook for the next two years.

I'm a Wiking!

2006-11-07T19:24:00.000-05:00

The Iceland super-slide show is done! I should have a link for it as soon as I find a suitable place to host the file. It's long (18 mins) and large (300 MB), but I swear it's worth it. Stay tuned!

Update: Here it is!

Also: Stay tuned for a new MySpace Hottie of the Week episode. Coming soon!

Pop quiz!

2006-11-03T17:50:00.000-05:00

1. You're one of the most influential men in America. You're the leader of a super-megachurch with a congregation of 14,000 people and the National Association of Evangelicals, and President Bush regularly seeks your counsel. You're at a hotel in Denver, and you're feeling a little tense. Do you...

a) Pop a few quarters in the Magic Fingers then drift off to sleep?

b) Call your wife and let the familiar voice of a loved one soothe your soul?

c) Visit a luxury spa and have a small European woman who doesn't speak English give you a relaxing massage?

d) Call a male prostitute and have him give you a massage?

If you selected a, b, or c, congratulations: You're not an idiot. You may now stop reading.

If you selected d, you may have a few problems with your judgment. Proceed to the next question.

2. You get a massage from the male prostitute (let's call him Mike). In the middle of it, he tells you about methamphetamine, an illicit stimulant you've never heard of because you're an upstanding man of the cloth. Do you...

a) Gently tell Mike that he should abandon his sinful ways and turn his life over to Jesus then go back to your hotel?

b) Assume Mike is a comedian and laugh it off then go back to your hotel?

c) Realize you're getting a massage from a male prostitute who's now offering you drugs, come to your senses, cut your losses, and run back to your hotel before anyone finds out?

d) Buy some of Mike's meth?

If you selected a, b, or c, congratulations: While you initially showed a lack of judgment, you've atoned for it. You may now stop reading.

If you selected d, you might have a serious problem on your hands. Proceed to the next question.

3. So now you're done with your massage and you've got some meth. Do you...

a) Come to your senses, throw the meth away, and hope nothing ever comes of it?

b) Try the meth just once to see what it's like, never do it again, and hope nothing ever comes of it?

c) Take the meth to the police, admit to them what you've done, and tell them where they can find the guy who's hooking and dealing drugs?

d) Try the meth, realize that it's awesome, then engage in a three-year homosexual affair with Mike, all the while decrying how homosexuality is evil and lobbying to ban gay marriage in your home state of, say, Colorado?

If you selected a, b, or c, congratulations: You made a few mistakes, but in the end you did the right thing.

If you selected d, well, seriously, dude: What the fuck is wrong with you? You better hope no one finds out. Proceed to the next question.

4. Someone found out. In fact, everyone found out. Mike saw you on TV, realized you were a fucking douche, then went public with his story. Do you...

a) Deny everything and and plead ignorance, explaining that Mike must be a homosexual angry over the gay marriage ban?

b) Resign your leadership positions but deny everything at first, then later admit to the meth and massage parts?

c) Confess Jimmy Swaggart-style and hope everyone forgives you?

d) Have Mike whacked?

If you answered a, b, c, or d, sorry, but you're in too deep for America to forget about what happened. America just isn't like that. Proceed to the next question.

5. It doesn't matter what you do at this point. Do you...

a) Forget your public life, repent, and hope God will still accept you into Heaven?

b) Divorce your wife, move to the East Village, and take up with a sexy twenty-something named Pedro?

c) Run for president?

d) Take your own life in shame and hope like hell that Satan doesn't rape you with his barbed penis?

Dibs on the porn title, "Feeling Haggard"

2006-11-03T12:36:00.000-05:00

Skip ahead to about 1:06. Watch for it...there.

Jon Stewart + Stephen Colbert = Fire & Brimstone

2006-11-02T15:43:00.000-05:00

So says Fred Phelps.

Iceland pix

2006-10-28T00:01:00.000-04:00

As promised, here's the first of the Iceland pictures. Click on Otis to begin the slideshow! You may have to adjust the delay in order to keep up with the captions. I'll be working on an even better slideshow over the weekend, complete with music, etc.

Go Blue!

2006-10-27T23:33:00.000-04:00

It was a nice try, Tigers.

Iceland pictures coming soon.

Did you know...

2006-10-27T13:33:00.000-04:00

...that in the 1968 World Series, the Detroit Tigers trailed the St. Louis Cardinals three games to one? And we all know how that one ended, right? (Tigers won.)

EDIT: Heh. Never mind.

Mega-Apologies

2006-10-26T19:42:00.000-04:00

On account of a ruptured eardrum, a vicodin-fueled haze, and assorted other drama, I haven't gotten around to going through my Iceland pictures just yet. I swear I'll get to it in the near future, and the resulting posts will be wonderfully wonderful.

Till then...

There is no god...

2006-10-26T14:39:00.000-04:00

...or he hates us. Or he's gay.

via stereogum

Just so we're clear ...

2006-10-26T11:53:00.000-04:00

SBC: Anti-Semitic Bigot. Imperialist Western Scoundrel.

Exploitative, Juvenile White Male Pig.

JSF: Modern Jewish Master. Literary & Artistic Genius.
Post-modern Multicultural Mixmaster.

Who?

PS: WELCOME HOME, JOEL.
PPS: Bronson Pinchot can lick me.

Well then...

2006-10-25T02:11:00.000-04:00

I'm back from Iceland. As much as I love everyone here, it's depressing to be back in the US. It was especially depressing going back to work today. The best part of the trip? Well, all of it. That and the fact that it's strengthened my resolve to get the fuck out of Michigan finally. Won't be long!

As for the 700 or so pictures I took in Iceland, I've yet to download them. Expect some amazing posts full of amazing pictures in the coming days.

Black Kettle Bastard

2006-10-19T10:29:00.000-04:00

Rock music to Sting: "Ditto."

And now a study in contrasts:

Let's say you work at Burger King and somebody comes in and calls you names and throws their drink at your head. Sorry, but you can't leap over the counter and punch them in the face. Thems the rules. Now on the other hand if somebody jumps over the counter and touches you, by say going in for a kiss, you can totally punch that guy. Why? He broke the rules and came into your space and touched you first. That the difference between assault and self-defense.

Hi.

2006-10-19T09:54:00.000-04:00

Things I've learned about Iceland so far:

1) Youth hockey isn't such a big deal actually.

2) It's cold, but not that cold. No worse than Ann Arbor in late November.

3) Thë kæyboards hérë are lóåðs of fün.

4) You'd think I would feel right at home in a land full of tall, blond people. Sure, I guess. Only problem is that although everyone here is fluent in English, they keep talking to me in Icelandic. I guess I blend in a little too well.

What about the voice of Geddy Lee? How did it get so high?

2006-10-18T15:47:00.000-04:00

BSS —FireEyed Boy

Time to Rock

2006-10-16T14:46:00.000-04:00

Everybody east of the Mississippi, be sure turn your eyes to the sky tommorrow and wish J-Ho a save flight as he wings over you on his way to the land of ice and snow, of the midnight sun where the hot springs flow. J-Ho, you'll be happy to know I just spent 20 mintues finding these lines from "Masters of the Universe,"

Teela: Don't say goodbye. Say Good Journey.
Duncan: It is an old Eternian saying. Live the journey, for every destination is but a doorway to another.
Julie Winston: Good Journey.

Speaking of fond fairwells, let me say a few words about our dear Uncle Grambo of whatevs.org shuffling off this Midwestern Coil, bound for great things shilling for Viacom in NYC. CBGBs closing doesn't make me sad, 'cause hey, there are a million shitty, filthy bars in the world and having a punk landmark is an effing lame contradiction. But there is only one Mark Graham, and even if she doesn't deserve them anymore, Detroit needs more guys like him, not less.

I can only imagine more of the FOW crew will slowly leak out of town and while if you're looking for an effing lame contradiction, a guy who left town complaining about people moving away from Detroit is a fine speciemen, but whatevs — Did you know Peabs got married? What's next will Krengals say something smart? Will Gorilla stop talking really fast when he's drunk? Will Retrobuzz be less surly? Will Tiz not tiz? I'll admit I suddenly have a lot of time on my hands, but it worries me all the same.

Get a plan, kiddies and stick to it. Untill then enjoy the mighty insight of satire...

George Steinbrenner Fires Tigers

UPDATE: BELLS BEER IS NO LONGER SHIPPING TO CHICAGO. HOLY CRAP!

MySpace Hottie of the Week, Episode 8

2006-10-15T23:11:00.000-04:00

Boy howdy! Have I ever got a treat for you! For the first time in Barber College history, we have a guest blogger in the house! And not just any guest blogger, but our esteemed friend A. from Apophasis Now! While I was busy watching one of the most exciting weekends in Michigan sports history, A. took one for the team and ventured into MySpaceland to find some of the hottest hotties ever. All I have to add is this: A.: 1, Skillet: 0. I'll let A. take it from here.

Oh, hello. We didn't see you there.

First of all, in case any of you fuckers think I don’t have better things to do than trawl around MySpace all weekend (or ever), let me assure you that I do. I don’t have an account there nor on any other trendy meeting place for trendy young people. I am not trendy.

That being said, I found this week’s hotties — the extremely hardcore Christian metal band, Skillet — through a New York Times article about conservative Christians and their fear that they are losing teenagers to sin and debauchery. On the front lines of the battle to win them back, apparently, are Skillet. Here is what the critics are saying:

“They have grown from strength to strength over the 10 years of our relationship. They renew again and again with new approaches and new presentations.” Yeah!!!11 Jesus RAWKS!!!!!1!!1!!

“Skillet has over the years been able to maintain an energy to their music that is there regardless of whether its source is from [sic] a keyboard, guitar, or a typical Cooper scream.” A band with energy and unnecessary prepositions! It’s about time.

“This record is everything but a letdown.” Oh, boy.

Where to start.

Just look at them! I try not to criticize other people’s fashion choices, but I have seen mullets more dignified than that long-haired-rodent-looking thing on top of the frontman’s head. Nonetheless, they do have an impressive (?) 51,456 “friends” at the time of this writing, the first ten of which appear to be religious-themed music groups, only one of which has a goofier name — DECYFER DOWN, a name so goofy I will not even bother to speculate how many seconds that group would remain standing in a rawk-off with actual metal band, Slayer. Less than eight, though, for sure.

I will give the commentors toward the bottom of the page the benefit of the doubt and assume none is over the age of eleven (but I will suggest for their own good that they learn to read and write before puberty).

And we haven’t even started on the music yet. Oh, yes. The music. It loads without your permission and if you want to stop it, you have to scan the page frantically until you spot the “pause” button on the little music player. I am neither a musician nor a music critic, so I will not attempt to explain exactly what makes the streaming audio on Skillet’s MySpace profile sound like what would happen if you took the worst radio station I listened to in high school and then made it about 68 percent worse and then added a precious air of moral superiority. I will say only that it does.

More than that, it feels phony in a way that goes beyond the phoniness of the average crappy mainstream music act. Sin-free metal is like sugar-free cake. It simply should not be. If you say it’s as good or better than the real stuff, you are a liar.

Which brings us to the final insult: Skillet members think they are doing God’s work.

People are douchey for all kinds of reasons. Musicians doubly so. But when they claim to have the full support, endorsement, and inspiration of a higher power and the best they can do is produce a crappy imitation of already crappy mainstream metal music, well, that is just offensive. If St. Peter is playing this shit at the pearly gates, I reserve the right to hop a southbound train in search of soul choirs, old men with banjos, Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, and Tom Waits, all of whom have had fascinating things to say about God over the years and have done so with style, class, and raw songwriting talent.

In sum, Skillet will surely leave you shouting Jesus’s name to the skies, but it won’t be for the reason they think.

The Greatest Blog You've Never Heard Of

2006-10-13T02:44:00.000-04:00

First of all, your goddamn MySpace Hottie of the Week is coming sooner or later. You have to remember that I'm using the loosest possible definition of the phrase "of the week," and, in this case, it means "occurring almost once a week, but not quite - pretty much whenever I feel like doing it, actually." Trust me when I tell you that writing a Hottie episode is much more difficult and time-consuming than it appears. I'm kind of like Jesus when I write them. Dig?

In lieu of that, I'm providing a link to one of the greatest blogs on the Interthingies, Fire Joe Morgan. I've been a big fan of FJM for some time now, but I've held off on linking to it, because it's targeted at a rather specific audience - baseball nerds, to be exact. Not just people who like baseball, but people who enjoy baseball statistics. The premise of the site is simple: professional baseball commentators are very bad at commenting on baseball. While most baseball journalists out there are at least competent at stringin' words into sentences, when it comes to content, they haven't a clue. That's where FJM comes in. Combining impeccable grammar and spelling, wry senses of humor, and a whole lot of baseball nerdspeak, the cats at FJM routinely dismantle the arguments of some of the nation's worst writers and TV personalities, of whom ESPN's Joe Morgan is undoubtedly the most egregious offender. Quite often it's a fish-in-a-barrel situation involving a barely literate former player like John Kruk, who somehow gets paid to talk about baseball, but if shooting fish in barrels were as entertaining as this site, I'd watch that, too. It's high time you visit FJM.

Since a lot of the dorky stuff on baseball statistics probably won't mean much to most of you, try and acquaint yourself with, at the very least, Moneyball and Bill James before visiting FJM. If all else fails, remember that Barry Bonds is really good at baseball, and David Eckstein is really not good at baseball.

Oh, and here's just a taste of what FJM has to offer (from yesterday's post): "The day after a sports team loses in the playoffs, people suddenly have a lot of (typically intangible) insights as to why that team was always destined to fail in the first place. It's a combination of hindsight and psychology that I am deciding to call hindpsychology, because I am a fan of sports portmanteaus (or as I call them, sportmanteaus)."

No, they're not just baseball nerds; they're also word nerds. That second sentence might be one of the best sentences in the history of the English language. If I were in the business of assigning points for such things, they'd get 50 billion for that meta-portmanteau.

Go Tigers.

Hey, Wha' Happened? - Round I

2006-10-10T01:41:00.000-04:00

Sorry this week's Hottie is running late, but I spent my entire day off sleeping and catching up on sleep. I swear it'll be up quicker'n you can catch a greased rooster on a hot tin roof, as Gramps used to say. (Gramps's metaphors often did not make logical sense, but, strangely, they were impactful on us youngsters. Maybe it had something to do with the way his glass eye glistened in the hot Arkansas sun when he told his stories. All that's beside the point, however.) I know you're all waiting for the new episode with bated breath, but your breath will just have to remain bated until I get around to writing it.

In the meantime, enjoy a new feature I'm introducing. It's called Hey, Wha' Happened?, and it will soon sweep the nation. Here's how it works: I'll describe a real-life situation in which something happened, and it's your job to dream up what happened! In the comments section, of course. Responses can be from a sentence or two to a few paragraphs. It's all up to you! So get your creative writing caps on (mine is a khaki fedora with a purple ribbon), and get writing! (Please make this work, or else I'll be forced to retire this AND the MySpace Hottie of the Week!)

-----

I was driving through my old neighborhood sometime in August, and I passed this filthy music store where my brother used to take drum lessons and where I would go occasionally to look at the guitars. One thing you should know about the store: It's filthy, but not in a cool, grungy, hey-we're-so-cool-we-don't-care-what-this-place-looks-like kind of way. It's filthy in an eww-we're-disgusting-and-slovenly-people kind of way. In short, it's just not rock-n-roll there. So anyway, I was driving by in August, and the sign out front said, "MEMORIAL CONCERT FOR 9/11 HERE." I'm assuming "HERE" meant the large abandoned lot next to the store, because the store itself was rather small. I didn't think much of it at the time. It was a nice idea, I guess. But then I drove past the same store a few days ago (this is early October, remember), and the sign had been changed to "9/11 CONCERT CANCELLED." Clearly the sign had been up for an entire month, and the store was still in business. So why was the concert cancelled? Or, in other words, hey, wha' happened?

Things I learned/observed today

2006-10-07T04:29:00.000-04:00

1) Dutch people love a good sale.

2) It's cold in Michigan in October. I need to leave. (I'm leaving soon!)

3) Tigers!

4) Getting hit in the head with those little chalk cubes you use when you're playing pool really hurts.

5) Is there anything better/worse than an MTV reality show?

6) I gotta work all weekend. This week's Hottie episode will have to wait until Monday.

7) I have this FM transmitter thing for my iPod that I use when I'm in my car. Occasionally, when someone or something nearby is broadcasting on the same frequency, it'll overpower my iPod. When I passed Johnny Law on the way home tonight, I briefly heard the B-Boys' "Sabotage." Was 5-0 listening to that song, or was I imagining things?

8) UM-MSU just isn't that interesting this year, considering the Tigers can eliminate the Yanks the same afternoon. That and MSU's team isn't very good.

9) [Insert your own observation!]

As always, if you happen across some hot hotties on MySpace, send me a link! I'm off to bed.

MySpace Hottie of the Week, Episode 7

2006-10-01T22:06:00.000-04:00

A'ight, ev'rybody. I took a week off to regroup, and now I'm back in bidness. I'll admit that the last episode I wrote wasn't quite up to snuff, but I swear this week's will kick some serious fuckin' ass. This one is so good that I'll stop writing right now and dive right in. But first, many thanks to Jon for finding this hottie for me.

(This is the obligatory "sic" disclaimer.)

Okay, here he is. Meet $trickly Buizne$$, quite possibly the most ridiculous human being in the history of the universe. Scratch that - probably the most ridiculous grouping of matter and energy in the history of the universe. And that includes Pluto! God broke the mold after he made $B. Scratch that - there couldn't have possibly been a mold in use. $B is a work of art. He's so ridiculous that he can't even incorrectly spell his name correctly. The following would have been acceptable: $trickly Bizne$$, $trickly Buzine$$, and $trickly Bidne$$. By spelling the word as "Buizne$$," $B immediately loses all of his street cred.

Where do I go from there? Well, just look at this picture (I've left the pics full-size to preserve their impact):

$B captions the photo thusly: "we tote dem thangz in da 813." Da 813, in case you don't know, is Tampa, Fla. I really don't know much about guns, but I must admit that pistol thingie is pretty bad-ass (If you know what it's called, lemme know in the comments (I think it's a 9 mm, but I dunno what that thing on the barrel is)). But the sniper rifle? What kinda gangsta carries a sniper rifle? I've seen both Boyz n the Hood and Menace II Society, and I don't remember Doughboy or O-Dog carryin' no sniper rifles. Where do you conceal somethin' like that when 5-0 rolls up?

Moving on:

Seriously? How many people do you think these guys have killed? Vegas set the over-under at one, and I recommend taking the under.

And then:

The caption? "HOZ DAT BAD AZZ WHITEBOI??" I try so hard not to make fun of poor spelling, and I know $B is trying to ghetto-fy his language, but when you only spell 7.8% of the words you write correctly, you have a problem on your hands. Oh, and why does it look like he has a vagina on his chin?

Jesus, I haven't even gotten to his "About me" section yet and this is already the longest Hottie in history. Anyway... Well, let's just reproduce the thing in its entirety right here:

Yah wut up dis be yo boi $trickly Buizne$$ aka Joey. All u'll need 2 kno iz dat imma hu$$la n i luv money,carz, n women. I enjoy hittin da clubz n wilin' out wit da homeboiz. It ain no secret dat imma flirtatiouz type a guy. I luv all da girlz but I prefer da blak girlz cuz dey gotz it goin' on. I gotz 2 shout out 2 all muh ppl reppin' dat 813 n 727 keep it crunk mufuckaZ! I am a producer/rapper, when eva i geta chance i'm makin new beatz n writin' wordz to dem. I have been producin' for a while now, i have recently started to record my muzik. I really gotta luv for producin'/writin' musik that I neva really knew I had. I will also be goin' to school for Buizne$$ Administration, I would eventually like to be a financial advisor,sale mortgages,and/or do real estate. So to sum it all up I got big planz for my future n dat iz makin' $$$ cuz round here itz all $trickly Buizne$$ cuuuuz.<

I'm not about to parse all that shit, but if you'd like to, you'll win some respect from me. Aside from the unique lexicon, there's nothing too interesting until you get to the bit about him being a producer/rapper. When I read this, I was all, "Holy shit! It can't be! It is!" That's because I scrolled over to the embedded music player and saw that the music featured on his profile was, in fact, his own. Worst. Rapper. Ever. He sounds like Pete Nice, if Pete Nice were mentally retarded and rapped with a heaping spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth. I sure hope that real estate career pans out, because you sure as hell ain't go' make it as a rapper, cuuuuz.

I usually skip over my hotties' responses to that stupid survey thing you'll find on 80% of MySpace profiles, but I won't in this case. My favorite responses (with my notes in parentheses):

Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year:Make mo money den u foolz can count (I assure you I can count to 12,000.)

Thoughts First Waking Up: Time 2 get on sum femalez (Question for my female readers: Are you in the mood 2 b gotten on first thing in the morning?)

Your Most Missed Memory: chillin' wit muh dog josiah bak in da dayz RIP CUUUZ (I'll assume Josiah was his schoolyard chum in Boca who died of leukemia at a young age.)

Pepsi or Coke: soda not good for yah so i drink krystale (Wonderful health advice. Take it to heart, you rich fatties.)

Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: muh grandmaz tea (Now that's how you be gangsta!)

Do you Sing: nah, i rap (Too easy)

Do you think you are Attractive: hell yah, imma bad azz whiteboi (Even easier)

In the past month have you gone to a Mall: oh yah had 2 cop dem Js (Come again? Do you mean, like, jeans?)

In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos: i ate sum but notta box (Hellz yah mufucka! I be eatin Oreos all da time but only in moderation!)

Short or Long Hair (on a girl): eitha az long az da chik izza dime (Couldn't agree more.)

Weight (on a girl): well proportiond 2 fit dey height (Fatties and beanpoles need not apply.)

All I have to add at this point is "WOW." In the words of one of the greatest gangsters of all time, "English, motherfucker! Do you speak it?"

I realize that $trickly Buizne$$ will probably kill me for writing about him in this fashion, but it was worth it. You'll all come to my defense, right?

Right?

Exodus Update: Signs that I need to leave

2006-09-30T04:38:00.000-04:00

I promised myself I would be out of this place by Oct. 31, or, at the very least, I would have a plan in place by then. I'm going to hold myself to that, and, in the meantime, God has offered these signs to spur me on:

1) As I drove to work yesterday morning, I spotted a thermometer that was all, like, "IT'S 48 DEGREES... 48!!!"

2) When I came home around 4:00 this morning, Orion had risen.

3) I'm using my down comforter tonight.

4) MLB playoffs start next week! (!)

If only I had somewhere to go... Jobs anyone?

Bob Dylan didn't die of drugs. I produced his last three albums.

2006-09-28T17:57:00.000-04:00

There are no egrets in Djibouti

2006-09-28T01:14:00.002-04:00

Friends, this is the end of an era. I've decided to retire the MySpace Hottie of the Week feature. After much searching of the soul, I've determined that the feature is entirely mean-spirited and is, in fact, bad for America. I know many of you enjoyed reading about the hotties over the past two months, but for the sake of our children, we must move on. Thank you for your understanding.

Psych! I bet you chumps really thought I was retiring that shit! Nope! I'm simply taking a break for a week. I'll be back next week (this weekend?), with some kick-ass Hottie goodness for you. If you'd like, you can search for hotties yourself and nominate some who you feel are worthy. I'm assuming that if you're reading this blog you know my e-mail address, so send your nominees there.

Smells Like... Huh?

2006-09-25T01:13:00.000-04:00

I like to think that Kurt Cobain would have enjoyed this. Make sure you watch long enough to catch the killer guitar solo.

Long Pointies

2006-09-23T13:37:00.000-04:00

Some people just love cancer

2006-09-20T02:04:00.000-04:00

I'd rather not tell you where I work. That's not important to this story. Suffice it to say that where I work large sums of money are exchanged for goods and services on a regular basis. It's also necessary for you to know that we are currently raising money for a cancer research organization. That's all you need to know.

Anyway, I overheard the following exchange while a woman was in the process of purchasing around $500 in goods and services:

Associate: Hi, how are you today?
Woman: I'm fine, thank you.
Associate: Would you like to donate $1 to [cancer research organization]?
Woman (thinks, grimaces): No, I don't think so.

rocking it

2006-09-19T17:45:00.001-04:00

More Zanger Bob at his official website.Hope you can read Dutch. I would love to see about this kid in mid-20s, living the low-level eurotrash star life, just trying to get by.

The Hexx

2006-09-19T14:18:00.000-04:00

Ozzie stood in front of me in the checkout line at the supermarket by my office at lunch and I put "the hexx" on him. Playoffs in the bag.

Go Tigers!

News You Can Use (If You're an Empty Shell of a Man Like Me)

2006-09-18T15:56:00.000-04:00

Uh yeah, it’s been a pretty good couple of days. Yeah, pretty effing good. Keep your fingers crossed the moment lasts a little longer.

In the meantime, my little spacehogs, may I tip my hat to the Grey Lady. The downtown hipster issue of the NYT Magazine was pathetic, but they rebounded this week with a pair of great articles I throw down here in case you missed ‘em:

— Michel Gondry profile.

—An essay on the supposed New Golden Age of Satire, which I’m saving for my trip home tonight on the train. (In case you don’t know the Chicago Transit Authority has been dropping the ball this week and bus/train rides have been brutally crowded and behind schedule. I finished my last book (some of the essays were better than others, very few of them really had something to say) and before I start a new one, I’m printing off stuff at work to mull over on the 70+ mintues it’s taking me to get home. If you see anything worthwhile, send it my way.)

BONUS: The Dog was once one of the best vacuum cleaner salesman in the country! Now that is primo-journalism

MySpace Hottie of the Week, Episode 6

2006-09-17T21:26:00.000-04:00

Hi, everybody! I'm on time this week! I actually had a couple days off, one of which I spent watching awesomeness unfold on live television. I'll keep my opening remarks brief this time 'round, mostly because I'm simply dying to get to this week's hottie.

So without further delay, let me present Jim. He's 19, and he hails from Youngstown, Ohio, which would be the nastiest city in the country if Gary, Indiana, didn't exist. The first thing I want you to do is check out Jim's pictures. You'll notice that in nearly every picture he's standing in pretty much the same place in his home and he's wearing the same expression. Only difference is in some he's wearing a supposedly awesome hat.

I'm usually not one to say that a certain layperson looks like a certain celebrity, but I can't help it in this case. I'm almost positive that Jim is Jake Gyllenhaal's half-brother, only Jim's mother (no relation to Jake) drank heavily while she was carrying. Either that or he's a cross between Spike Jonze and a badger. Maybe you, dear readers, have your own theories. As always, feel free to leave responses in the comments.

But let's leave that up in the air for now and move on to the profile. Again, although I'm a stickler when it comes to my own grammar and spelling, I'm typically willing to ignore the shortcomings of others in that area. Not so with Jim. His grammar and spelling aren't much more atrocious than those of the average MySpacer, but I bring them up to reinforce my fetal alcohol syndrome theory. You'll notice in Jimmy's "About me" section that there isn't a bit of punctuation. I would settle for misused commas and run-on sentences rather than a complete lack of punctuation. At least give us something to work with, James. It would make it a whole lot easier on the eyes. You'll also notice that Jim begins almost every "sentence" with "i like..." This reminds me of an assignment my teacher Mrs. Banka gave us back in third grade. We all had to write a book called "My I-Like Book." The idea was to write a series of poems about things we liked and why we liked them following a template teacher laid out for us. It was pretty fun at the time, if I remember correctly. I can't recall all the details of the book I wrote, but I'm willing to bet it was better written than Jim's profile.

Most of the info Jim provides about himself is banal, including his friends' names and his favorite sports teams. But then he drops this bomb: "my [sic] Favorite [sic] Raper [sic] is Tupac." Yeah, he said "Raper." With a capital "R." This is one of those situations in which not being able to spell can come back to bite you. It's bad enough that he's ruining the rep of one of America's most beloved icons, but he's also ruining the rep of one of American's most beloved dead icons. If Tupac were alive today, Jim would be six feet under within 24 hours of that shit going up on MySpace.

While we're on the subject of rap, let's talk about what it means when people like Jim are into rap music. Now, I'm a big rap fan - have been for about 7 years. I have a completely unironic attachment to it as a form of art. As a 20-something white boy living in the Midwest, however, I'll be the first to admit that I have absolutely no connection to hip-hop culture. I'm fine with that. Someone like Jim, on the other hand, while his love of rap is also unironic, nevertheless feels a real connection with the culture. Maybe I'm making too big an assumption here, but I doubt that Jim can relate to any rappers outside of Eminem, whose upbringing in poor white nothingness might just mimic Jim's. No, Jim is what we would have called a "wegro" back in the day.

Okay, I'll get off my high horse now. Here's a list of people Jim would like to meet someday: "Adam Sandler Staci Cole Briana Banks Jessie Jane Sky Lopez Jenna Jameson Howard Stern." I recognize Adam Sandler as a seriously untalented comedian, Jenna Jameson as a porn star, and Howard Stern as a misunderstood radio personality, but I didn't know who the other ones were at first. A simple Googling revealed that they're all porn stars, as well. I know you're probably a horny 19-year-old boy, Jim, but I don't think you really want to meet porn stars. Simply be in the room with one for more than five minutes, and chances are you'll leave with a venereal disease. I'm not criticizing you for being into porn; I'm just trying to save your life. Look at them from the comfort of your room in your mom's basement, safe in the knowledge that today's televisions and computer monitors all have built-in VD filters.

The rest of Jim's profile is unremarkable, but I'll leave you with one telling line, Jim's list of favorite books: "i dont read books at all i am not a reader." Never? You've never read a book that you liked? Or even one that you didn't like that you could list just for show? Charlotte's Web? The Berenstain Bears and the Spooky Old Tree? Jenna Jameson's autobiography? None of these?

Today's lesson: Read books. Or at least lie about having read books.

Is it irony or plain old hypocrisy?

2006-09-15T00:57:00.000-04:00

Dog jumps bail.

Oh my GAWD

2006-09-13T17:47:00.000-04:00

Update: I removed the trailer because it was pretty annoying how it started up automatically when y'all'd visit this site. Instead, go here and watch all the videos/trailers.

Brainwashed children ready for a holy war, Ted Haggard, and a pint-sized preacher with a killer rat tail. It would be hilarious if it weren't true.

Subbacultacha

2006-09-13T12:05:00.000-04:00

It was terribly nice to hear that my good friend and two-time boss, Keith Dusenberry was finally made the lead editor of Real Detroit Weekly after two years doing a fuckin’ great job as their music/features editor. Don’t know any of the details or if this went down weeks ago without me knowing, but it was well deserved promotion. Keith is almost single-handedly responsible for me being a professional (paid) writer and is just about the most level-headed and nicest person you're going to find working in the drastically bizarre worlds of music reporting and alternative weeklies. Please take this as a personal sign from on high, as I am, that if you stick it out and wade through enormous amounts of shit, good things still happen to good people in this world.

Speaking of signs: Does this mean that hip-hop officially has nothing left to say about anything? If anybody gets killed over this, well I hope inner city schools will have the good sense to ban open-toed shoes like they did in my day … God, DMX you are a fucking dumb.

Scott’s birthday present? (BTW I really need to find my wife a present for her B-day. Any ideas?)

And finally …the War on Terror is being fought with the same vigor as the NHL Playoffs. What I wanna know is it a protest or is it a sympathy beard?? Only Islamatic fanatics and the Amish show long-term facial hair. Sounds to me like the lazy-ass just found a way to get out of shaving forever.

It's Alright Mama

2006-09-12T13:15:00.000-04:00

Stephen Malkmus is doing some music for the weird Todd Haynes Dylan movie. You know the one where lots of actors, dudes and ladies, old and young, will all play Bob at different periods. Dig Cate Blanchett's jewfro. Oh yeah David Cross is in there too, but it's not really clear if he will be a Dylan or not.

How far the mighty have fallen …

2006-09-12T12:01:00.000-04:00

Sorry I've been no fun lately, I'll try to pull it together and start getting back around to posting more.

-Really Ben? Really? You really need money this bad? (via freedarko)

-This makes no sense to me at all. The movie’s playing here in Chicago and I’m gonna try to go tomorrow, before 20th Century Fox comes to my house and pokes out my eyes and cuts off my legs.

Funny (if a bit long) sketch. (via the apiary)

-See how global warming will effect Nana’s beach house.

It’s been awhile, but DC’s still into indie rock (also via the apiary. couldn't resist.)

Speaking of DC, this one is for J-Ho’s eyes only. He seems like he’s trying to start an inter-blog feud with me. Or is he? Who can tell? Why won't he return my calls?

MySpace Hottie of the Week, Episode 5

2006-09-10T02:22:00.000-04:00

Friends, sorry I didn't get to this week's hottie until today (Tuesday). However, I've slightly altered the date on this post to represent that it was posted on Sunday, so posterity will not know the difference. Unless posterity sees the actual post and reads about how I've slightly altered the date. Before I move on, let me remind you that all mistakes appearing in quotes are sic. Twenty-something MySpacers have the spelling and grammar of pre-teen MySpacers, and, once again, I don't feel like peppering my posts with "sic" just because they're stupid.

I thought that since I'm a little bit late I'd search long and hard for the hottest hottie who ever hottied up the MySpace universe. So here it is. Meet Danielle. It lives in Oceanside, New York, and it is 28. The proverbial they say that a picture is worth a thousand words. Were it able to speak or write, the picture at right would be saying these words: shim, she-male, huh, are, you, serious, no, really, what, the, fuck, is, that, thing, beast. I don't know what to call it. I typically don't make fun of ugly people for being ugly, but look at that thing! Has no one told it that it looks like that? If I knew Danielle, I would pull it aside and level with it: "Dude, what are you?"

I can't even think straight with that mug staring back at me. Is that even a real person? It has black eyes for Chrissakes! People like Danielle make me think that God is real and He has a wicked sense of humor. Either that or He can be a true prick sometimes. I don't think there's any jury in the world that would convict you for... Well, you get the point.

But enough about that. Let's move on to the profile. If you have to, cover up the picture with your hand so that you can focus. First thing it says: "Energetic, fun loving, crazy kinda girl!" Okay, I guess that solves the mystery. I'm of the opinion that one can decide his or her own gender, and, if Danielle thinks she's a girl, I'll call her a girl.

"I love to go out and have fun..." -- What have I told you about saying things that don't mean anything?

"I have a great sense of humor and can put up with pretty much anything thrown my way." -- I'm very happy to hear that. I hope that means you won't mind me saying you look like a dude.

"I am also a big believer in fate and destiny because what could be sexier if you think about it." -- I can think of at least one thing... the opposite of you!

"Music, movies, bars so that I can cocktail it up..." -- Haven't I also lectured you on taking words that are intended to be used as one part of speech and making them into another? If I haven't, I should have.

Oooh! Look at this picture I just found! Apparently this is a picture of Danielle and her sister. Danielle's buddy Jenn writes about this picture, "No one would ever guess that the two of you are sisters lol." Jenn is correct, but not for the reason she thinks. Now Danielle's sister isn't exactly a looker on her own, but standing next to Danielle, she looks like Helen of Fucking Troy - a real goddess of a woman.

The part of Danielle's page I enjoy the most is the outcome of her "What Famous Pinup Are You?" survey. Apparently, she is Bettie Page: "Girl next door with a wild streak / You're a famous beauty - with unique look / And the people like you are cultish about it." Girl next door? I grew up with single dudes living with their mothers on either side of my house, and they looked more feminine than you. Famous beauty? Hah! Unique look? Definitely! Cultish? Maybe. I guess you'd have to be.

Mantra

2006-09-08T14:35:00.000-04:00

"The Author to Her Book"
Anne Bradstreet

Thou ill-form'd offspring of my feeble brain,
Who after birth did'st by my side remain,
Till snatcht from thence by friends, less wise than true
Who thee abroad, expos'd to publick view;
Made thee in rags, halting to th' press to trudge,
Where errors were not lessened (all may judge)
At thy return my blushing was not small,
My rambling brat (in print) should mother call,
I cast thee by as one unfit for light,
Thy visage was so irksome in my sight;
Yet being mine own, at length affection would
Thy blemishes amend, if so I could:
I wash'd thy face, but more defects I saw,
And rubbing off a spot, still made a flaw.
I stretcht thy joints to make thee even feet,
Yet still thou run'st more hobbling than is meet;
In better dress to trim thee was my mind,
But nought save home-spun cloth, i' th' house I find.
In this array, 'mongst vulgars mayst thou roam
In critics hands, beware thou dost not come;
And take thy way where yet thou art not known,
If for thy father askt, say, thou hadst none:
And for thy mother, she alas is poor,
Which caus'd her thus to send thee out of door.

1678

MySpace Hottie of the Week, Episode 4

2006-09-04T18:49:00.000-04:00

According to the gubmint, it's still the weekend, so this week's episode isn't late at all; it's right on time! I probably would have gotten to it Saturday or Sunday, but the truth is, I worked 18 hours and slept only five over the past two days. Whatever. I don't owe you people anything...

...anything but nonstop MySpace Hotties of the Week!

Before I trudge into the darkness this week, I'd like to remind you of a few things. The purpose of this series is not to mock hopeless MySpacers simply for our amusement. No, I only have the noblest of intentions in writing MySpace Hottie of the Week. My aim is twofold. For the hottie, I hope to gently point out his or her foibles in the hope that I can encourage self-betterment. I'm like Dr. Phil in that respect. For the reader, I seek not to entertain, but to inform - to show you the ways that evil can manifest itself in this day and age and how to combat it appropriately.

This week's lesson is in stereotypes. I'm not talking about racial or gender stereotypes. I'm talking about the good kind of stereotypes. While it is certainly unacceptable to prejudge people based on uncontrollable factors such as skin color or genitalia, it is perfectly okay to prejudge based on controllable factors. In fact, stereotyping people based on certain physical characteristics is a wonderful time-saver. For example, if you see a young girl in a short skirt and revealing top, you can intuit that she is a sexual libertine. An elderly man with a light-colored plaid shirt tucked into pleated khaki pants voted for George W. Bush and drives a Buick LeSabre. It's that easy.

Unfortunately, there are a few unsavory people out there who seek to subvert this system. They insist on not matching their appearances to their personalities, and it makes life all the more difficult for the rest of us. Take this week's hottie for example. He calls himself Hot Dancin' Muskrat, but I'm going to call him Azazel Bradford III. You see, on first look, you'd think AB is a liberal 18-year-old pseudo-Satanist living in his parents' basement in suburban Denver. But in fact, AB is a 35-year-old Republican from Houston. "Huh?" you may be asking. "I thought 35-year-old Republicans from Houston were bland white people who go to church every Sunday and work as claims adjustors." And you would be right! But AB is a true freak and a lesson in dichotomy.

AB's profile is rather sparse, but what he offers is revealing. His "About me" section offers little of interest, except for the word Republican. Does he not understand that today's GOP hates people who look like him? If the secret service spotted him at a Bush rally with his triad of black spikes hanging in front of his eyes, he'd be in the back of a paddy wagon (believe me, they still use those things) with his head shaved and his skin sprayed with artificial tanner faster'n he knew it. The modern secret service doesn't mess around.

But for a few of what I'll assume are guilty pleasures, AB's musical interests generally fall in line with the quasi-depressive goth kid stereotype, and they do little in explaining his conservatism. He likes Joy Division, Dead Can Dance, and the Smiths, Franz Schubert and Pink Floyd. The same goes for his interest in movies. It's his TV watching habits that begin to raise one's eyebrows: American Idol, Fear Factor, and Star Trek. Say huh? I'd think you're either a frat dude or a mega-nerd with those interests. Definitely not a goth. Work with us here, dude.

But it only gets weirder when he lists his favorite modern authors: Richard Nixon, John McCain, and... and... and... and... and... ANN COULTER. Dude, if Ann Coulter ever saw you and felt the impulse to write about you or talk about you on some shitty talk show, she'd say something like, "These pasty-faced, black-haired gothofascists are no better than the Ali-Baba Muslim terrorists who seek to overthrow our Christian way of life. They're waging a spiritual war on right-thinking individuals in this country, and that's how we should treat them - as enemy combatants." Seriously, AB... Ann Coulter? I just... I don't... I can't... What more can I say about that? You should be reading Horace Walpole, Henry James, and crappy vampire novels. You know, shit like that. Ann Coulter represents everything that you should hate.

Sweet Jesus this guy has me worked up. But like I said, I'm here to inform, so I'd better stop and regain my cool. Before I leave, let me offer a simple moral for this story: You can - and should - judge a book by its cover. If it turns out that your judgment is way off, it's the fucking book's fault.

Under Deadline

2006-09-01T11:55:00.000-04:00

Back sometime soon.

MySpace Hottie of the Week, Episode 3

2006-08-26T05:55:00.000-04:00

Sup ya'll-i've decided to write this week's episode in myspace-ese!!!!!! For ya'll who dont know myspace-ese is a hybrid of english and dumbfuckery....... It's highlights include bad grammer, shitty spelling,random punctuation , ugly shorthand and a general lack of coherence. Its 1 thing if your gonna be lazy and like eliminate capitol letters and punctaution and use shit like "u" instead of "you" and pepper yer conversations with "jk" and "lol" if your AIM-ing, but if your gonna put somethin out their for the whole world to see, get your goddamn shit strait.

Ouch! That really hurts. As someone who generally - not anally - prides himself on impeccable spelling, grammar, etc., I simply cannot do that for more than a few sentences. Fuck that shit. (Game: Find and correct all the mistakes in the above paragraph and I'll give you a prize. Please place your entries in the comments section.)

But shit, y'all! We ain't here to talk language! We here for the hotties! Rather than picking on a rotund, ugly (do people still say fugly?) nerd who has about as much hope for accomplishing something cool in life as I have for getting into Heaven, I thought I'd take a different approach this time 'round. Let me present to you the Person Who Represents All That Is Awful About America in the Year 2006 (PWRATIAAAITY2k6). It was a pretty cursory search. Considering there are a bajillion PsWRATIAAAITY2k6 on MySpace, I could've written this episode about damn near anyone. But I mainly selected this particular individual because her profile is relatively more extensive, which, in turn, provides me with a shitload of fodder. I plan on dissecting every last motherfucking thing about this person that makes me cringe. This could take some time, so bear with me, darlings. It'll be worth your while.

---

Meet Katie. She's 19, and she lives in Houston, Texas (strike one). The first thing you'll notice about Katie is that she's pretty, but not necessarily that attractive. She's one of those dime-a-dozen white girls who have insipid personalities and get by on being moderately hawt. Just look at that picture. I know this girl. I've met her before. I saw about 37 of her last night when I was out with my friend. Maybe not her, but her. She's one of those people who co-opt aspects of other people's personalities and cultures because they can't figure shit out for themselves. She's what my old film theory professor would call a simulacrum, a superficial semblance of a real person.

What stuck out for me on Katie's profile is that fucking Goo Goo Doll's song, "Iris". That song's not only awful, it's anti-good. It hates good. It loathes good. Everyone who has an unironic attachment to that song deserves to be loaded onto a rocket ship piloted by Johnny Rzezezezeznik and fired toward the planet Shit.

Let's get down to Katie's "About me" section. She provides a list of about five dozen brief statements, and to some of which I will now reply. But before I go on, let me say that I'll be faithful in transcribing her shit-ass excuses for sentences, so all the messed up junk is sic. I just don't feel like sticking a [sic] after every goddamn word, so this preemptive [sic] will suffice. Now let's do this:

"i dont care what you think of me" -- Then you won't mind me mocking the fuck out of you on this here blog.

"people tend to underestimate me" -- For some reason I think I'm estimating you perfectly, but if you'd like to submit a rebuttal, drop one in the comments.

"music = L0VE" -- What about 2 Live Crew? If I understand them correctly, they're all about fucking, not love.

"i believe in karma" -- You mean like f'real karma or just the empty westernized version? Enough of the appropriation, dear.

"naps are pretty much amazing" -- If we held a contest to determine the dumbest possible sentence in the English language, yours would place 28th, and considering there are infinitely many possible sentences, that's a splendid accomplishment.

"being an individual is important: i hate fake people" -- What are you, the fucking cliche monster?

"speeding is the reason i drive" -- I guess you're like some bad-ass female version of Steve McQueen for the 21st century. Fuck tha police, right, honey?

"i L0VE to have fun" -- Remember that contest I mentioned a little while back? This would place second, right behind "I love to have a good time." What the hell does this even mean? Are there people out there who love to have a bad time?

"dancing is love" -- Nuh-unh. You said music is love. No take-backs.

"pacients is a vertu that i dont have" -- ...

"i want to write a book someday" -- Learn how to write a single goddamn sentence first and then maybe we'll talk.

"id rather you not say something then break your word" -- Let me get this straight: You want me to break my word, but only after I've already not said something?

"spelling is not a strong point for me" -- Thanks for stealing all my thunder, bitch.

"sarcasim is my second language" -- And your first language is what exactly?

"so theres some useless info about me: if you wanna know anything more just ask" -- OK. Where did you go to school, and why haven't all your teachers been fired for gross incompetence? Do you get a lot of headaches?

"who are you to judge the life i live? i know im not perfect-and i dont live to be. but before you start pointing fingers...make sure your hands are clean" -- Who am I? I'm J-Ho! Judging people like you is what I do! As for my hands, they're cleaner than the Pope's pussy, so I'll do all the pointing I want, thank you very much.

Them's the highlights of her profile. If you have a little more time to kill, check out this list of quotations Katie lists in her MySpace blog. Never has someone used so many words to say so little.

Whew! I worked up quite a sweat writing all that, but it was worth it. Construction by destruction: That's what this series is all about.

The Onion lets you embed articles now

2006-08-25T13:01:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I Feel Like I'm The Only One Trying To Gentrify This Neighborhood

This is my neighborhood, except that guy is winning instead of losing.

"Gonna Fly Now"

2006-08-25T10:32:00.000-04:00

RIP Maynard Ferguson who performed the Theme for "Rocky."

Boy this blog sure makes fun of Jesus a lot

2006-08-24T11:20:00.000-04:00

So flash back to 2001, a lonely kid flounders in his dorm room with no friends and a widening disillusionment with politics/the future of humanity. By some weird chance he stumbles on a tv show that he likes a lot that's funny and has music he likes, but it quickly get cancelled. He is sad, but not forever and now he looks back at being sad and it seems beautifully silly. And in a state far away, a nice, simple woman dies of old age in her sleep and he is actually sad, but is an oddly comforted way. He thinks of the woman's small town in the mountains down South and people he never got to know and the Carter Family and no more depression.

Suck it, Pluto

2006-08-24T10:05:00.000-04:00

Astronomers have determined that Pluto is no longer a planet, thus ending decades of controversy over whether the diminutive celestial thingie (what are we supposed to call it now?) should be classified as a planet or just a ball of random space junk hanging out in the solar system's nether regions.

This news means that millions of textbooks, various other learning materials, and Discovery Channel documentaries must be amended to reflect the change. I've been saying it for years, but no one will listen: It's time to blow Pluto up. Pluto has been an embarrassment to the eight legitimate planets for far too long, and simply reclassifying it doesn't go far enough in rectifying the situation. Besides, it's been years since we nuked something. Just think of how intimidated the terrorists will be when they see us blow up a former planet. They'll immediately fall to their knees and give their lives over to Jesus. God bless America.

MySpace Hottie of the Week, Episode 2

2006-08-20T14:15:00.000-04:00

I got a two-for-one deal for you this week! Two hotties, one episode!

Meet Ken and Amber, a lovely couple from my hometown of the G-Urr. Ken, 28, and Amber, 18, are engaged to be married! They're the kind of people who leave cutesy little love messages on each other's comments section. Really adorable. Check out this one from Ken (all the silly crap is sic): "My email says you left me a comment, but it's gone now. That's sad. :( Oh well, I'll survive I guess. I'm leaving in a couple minutes to come pick you up. I love you! :) <3 <3 <3"

So what's there to know about Ken and Amber? Well, for one, they have really big heads. Really big. Using the latest in photo analysis technology, I've determined that Ken's head is 37 gallons in volume and weighs 28 lbs. 6 oz., and Amber's head is 29 gallons in volume and weighs 19 lbs. 4 oz. Also, Ken's goatee covers an area of 3.7 square feet. I've also determined that Ken is a flaming racist. Under his interests, he writes this about his taste in music: "Country music mostly, though I'll give anything but rap a chance. I really dislike rap." Only Whitey McWhitersteins like Ken would dismiss an entire genre of music like that, and I can only assume it's because the rap world is populated by a large proportion of African Americans.

Ken's also into gaming. For those of you who aren't in the know, there's a huge difference between playing video games and gaming. Playing video games is cool. Gaming is not. People like me play video games. People like Ken game. The word game should only be used as a noun and, on certain rare occasions, an adjective. Although a thorough definition does include some archaic verb forms, they should never be used. As for Ken's application of the modern verb form... Hah! Sure-fire sign of a dork.

That's bad enough, but Ken elaborates on his gaming tendencies. He informs us that he's a fan of massively multiplayer online role-playing games (MMORPGs). On a scale of 1 to megawiener, playing MMORPGs places you at an 11. Our boy Ken loves the Asheron's Call, the Star Wars: Galaxies, the Shadowbane, the World of Warcraft, the Greymane, and the Aloria. Jesus, Ken, how do you make time for Amber with all that going on?

Okay, that's enough about Ken. Let's take a look at Amber now. It's hard to be sure, but it doesn't appear that Amber is nearly the dork that Ken is. Her profile is actually pretty goddamn boring. She likes swimming, dancing, music, romance, whatever, etc. The only real blemish is that she's into "Christian Hard Rock," which I addressed last week. All I really have to say about Amber is that she has a big head.

Whatever. Good luck, you sexy couple. Take good care of your future giant-domed children.

Own a piece of American history!

2006-08-16T18:06:00.000-04:00

A judge recently ordered that all the shit found in the Unabomber's Montana shack will be put up for auction. Most of the items are crap, but there are a few choice pieces: a hatchet, some knives, and his trademark hoodies. But our favorite item is #10 under the "Personal Belongings" section: Samsonite briefcase containing University of Michigan Degrees. None of y'all better bid on that, because it's all ours.

There's gold in that thar yard!

2006-08-15T23:33:00.000-04:00

Guy sends spam. AOL sues and wins. AOL digs for gold in man's yard.

Why won't you help him, John Walsh?

2006-08-15T11:30:00.000-04:00

Full Contact

2006-08-14T12:50:00.000-04:00

Watch for Karate Baseball.

MySpace Hottie of the Week, Episode 1

2006-08-12T18:31:00.000-04:00

If Scott gets a weekly series, then I get one, too. Welcome to MySpace Hottie of the Week, where I'll feature only the hottest and most interesting people from MySpace.com, the most popular social-network/stalker-aider/pedophile-helper thingie on the 'Net. The purpose of this feature is not to mock or scorn, but to point out the painfully helpless and shed some light on the harsh realities of their situations. Allow me to be your guide as we navigate the millions of corridors of the land we call MySpace.

---

Episode 1: Tonya Berry

Highlights: Our first hottie hails from lovely Columbus, Ohio. She's 34, and she somehow found a man willing to marry her.

"Chances are, I am the weirdest, craziest, wildest Christian you will ever meet. I have a hubby I've been married to for almost 15 years, and an adopted son who just turned 20," she says. Hold up a second! I can buy the getting married at 19 thing, which isn't all that weird, but if your son just turned 20, that means you adopted him when you were 14! Illegal! For a Christian woman, you lie like a muhfukka.

Moving on... "My favorite bands are the ones that rock and glorify Christ at the same time. Currently I'm stuck on Me Without You, however Christian speed metal like The Crucified, Mortification and Metanoia are my favorite. In the past, I've been a youth leader and a DJ at a Christian rock station." Again with the lies. Everyone knows rock music - especially speed metal - is a tool of Satan. "Christian rock" is an oxymoron.

Buried amongst all the stupid videos and stupid "What kind of ____ are you?" bullshit, we find this out about our hottie:

You're a sophisticated woman with big city taste.
You have a strong creative force - even if you don't wear the boldest clothes.
You tend to intimidate people. But the right guy won't be intimidated by you!

Designer match: Dolce & Gabbana

Signature accessory: Gold framed sunglasses

Bullshit you are! 1) You're not sophisticated. You're a bland WASP from the Midwest. 2) You think you're creative, but you're not. (More on this in a bit). 3) Professional wrestlers are intimidating. Football players are intimidating. Satan is intimidating. You ain't intimidating to shit. 4) They don't sell D&G merch at Kmart.

Now for my favorite parts:

"MacDonalds [sic] or Burger King: Burger King (MacDonalds [sic] supports abortion)"

Fuck that shit. I'll take some Mickey-D's Fetus Fries over a Whopper Jr. any day of the week.

"Do you belive [sic] in yourself: Sorta but the Word says I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me"

All Christ has done is make you fat, ugly, and boring. Sorry, dear. Maybe you should give Buddhism a try.

Lastly, check this poem Tonya wrote. I won't reproduce the entire thing here, but I will highlight the best parts.

"Oh, snap, it's 4:20" Maybe she's not so lame after all. Loves the weed.

"[A]nd my God has plenty / [F]or me as I inhale His presence" Oh. It was a metaphor. Never mind.

"[A]nd He says, 'No, YOU! YOU are lovely, my darling, my dove! / Come on, be intoxicated with my love!'" No, my dove. You're far from lovely. And enough with the drug/alcohol metaphors.

"[A]nd today, my fountain / [F]lows like a clear, crystal mountain!" Mountains are neither clear nor made of crystal. Nor do they flow. But they can be intimidating.

Jesus, this girl is giving me a headache. Check out the rest of the hilarity for yourselves. I'm gonna go smoke some God presence.

"This next one is off our new album..."

2006-08-11T16:43:00.000-04:00

So I was at a show this week and the opener was an foreign indie act with an obscure, over-looked genius rep. Now I don’t know their records at all and they run with bands I do like, but I was dramatically under-whelmed. All the songs sounded essentially the same, they were performed with the same “dramatic” gimmicks throughout and the bass player kept trying to wander off the stage for some reason. The mixed crowd was notably unimpressed, save for a couple really trying-too-hard hipsters, but here’s the thing, they weren’t a “bad” band, but something was off, in fact i think i could have "fixed" them if they were willing to cede absolute creative control to me for say 6 months. Effing bouncher refused to pass along my card.

Anyways it made me pick up my new project: releasing imaginary albums. I may not be the musician those guys are, which frankly means I really suck, but I’m sick of that stopping my rock ’n’ roll dreams. Here’s my first one…

Indiscriminate Eastern European Accent

“The Feast of Maximum Occupancy” — Ancient seaside march that stumbles carelessly along before passing out on the steps of its derelict shanty. The stylistically incongruous “fake” opener.

“Fuzzy at Best” — Ironic power litany for your best friend’s ex. The girl you can’t get over is probably the one you can’t too well remember.

“Dip My Toe In and See (Hey Now)” — Unnecessarily distorted blues innuendo. Dirty filth? Or lazy nonsense? We’ll let the RIAA decide.

“Seen This One Before” — Taunt, slashing break-up pop. A bouncy kiss-off for everybody who’s ever spent hours in a Blockbuster arguing over whose turn it is to pick the evening’s rental.

“Closing The West” — Empty-saloon piano sorrow for a changing world. How can there be any more cowboys if there ain’t no more Indians?

“Mailer Damien” — Thankfully brief psychedelic-electronica interlude. More backwards effects than a “Twin Peaks” dream sequence.

“Punch In” — Shuttering anti-shit job manifesto. Crammed with bile and stabbed keyboard flares, pays more than a little respect to EC. Handclaps abound.

“Robot Abe Lincoln” — Close-up the lake house and get ready to cry. Works out the frustrations of autumn and the failure to do great things. Warm guitar buzz scratches like an old wool sweater.

“Still So Shallow” — Ramped-up Stones boogie drifts off to Mars as a bitter bastard turns 27 and wonders if life’s ever gonna start.

p.s. — are you a real or fake band looking to have a decidedly fake album produced by me??? Send an email and keep your eyes peeled for more upcoming releases from Barbicide Records.

Attempt number, like, six or something

2006-08-09T00:48:00.000-04:00

It might be seven; I dunno. Anyway, I've decided to quit smoking again, this time hopefully for good. I'm pretty sure the problem has been that my friends aren't supporting me enough, because this should be easy. I think some of them are tacitly encouraging me to keep smoking. They think that if I smell all smelly, it makes them smell better by comparison, and then the opposite sex is more attracted to their smell. It's a pretty clever ploy when you think about it, but now that I've figured it out, hopefully they'll stop and join my side again.

Exodus Update: I'm setting my date of departure at October 31, 2006. That's very ambitious, but I think I can pull it off. If only I had somewhere to go... People keep telling me to move to Chicago. Where do you think I should go?

What I did on my summer vacation pt. 1

2006-08-03T18:36:00.000-04:00

Bam, fool! I return in a cloud of smoke!

Where was I? Where the hell were you, man? Get your story together before you start throwing rocks, you glass-house-dwelling jag-off.

Uh that’s right I say, jag-off now. Oh kids, I could say I missed the Internet, but that would be a lie. I wish this fading fad would pass already. I hope your cat took some cute pictures of your newborn or vice versa cause I can’t wait to mosey over to Flicka and view those priceless little turds.

What you have something really original to say about Mel Gibson? Sigh. I really don't need to watch your mash-up of "braveheart" and the stay out of malibu scene in "big lebowski," I get it. I’m so sick of doubting whether celebrities have had the babies they claim and predicting BOs, it’s made me weary before my time, kids. If I didn’t need the information superhighway to fetch me the new Hold Steady record and the Venture Brother episodes I missed, I’d happily bring the whole thing down, Jenga style, by pulling this blog out of the tower.

I bought a new computer over the weekend and am depressed to come home to see the same white keyboard I stare all day in front of me. I pretend to write professionally and wonder if I need another hobby. Actually I keep telling myself I’m getting a typewriter. any thing to keep me away from the wiki-black hole. I probably wait to I lose my hair and can really pull off the smug Luddite prick thing. Oh dang-dabbit and horsefeathers!

I could make promises about how we’re gonna start doing more than posting ifilm movies but that would be a lie. Every week I get an envelope from Nick Denton with a newly minted nickel that demands I keep getting those up and poppa needs his bubble gum, dudes and dudettes (the OkGo treadmill thing is kinda sweet, though).

My older brother maintained for years his friend Sean (Tiz) invented the word “dudette” one day in the Monteith Elementary School lunchroom. I wish my world were small enough that I could still believe that.

Bam! And like that he’s gone.

Pirate Watch Returns!

2006-08-01T13:12:00.000-04:00

What a crafty bunch those pirates are.

Greatest video game ever?

2006-07-22T21:43:00.000-04:00

Since when can eight-year-old children drive cars?

2006-07-21T15:46:00.000-04:00

HJO gets fucked up.

Congratulations Scooter!

2006-07-19T18:57:00.000-04:00

Hey everybody! Scott got married. Drop a congrats in the comments, yo.

Scott: I got you these ceramic fish from Art Fair, but then this kid stole my elephant ear and I threw them at him. They all broke, but the good news is the kid had to get stitches!

Fucking retards...

2006-07-12T21:16:00.000-04:00

HOLY SHIT! FREE GAS?!

"[S]ome motorists started lining up before midnight and the queue stretched far from the station into a residential area, trapping some residents in their driveways..."

Couldn't they have made more money working than they saved by waiting for hours and hours for 30 bucks in gas?

For whom the bell tolls...

2006-07-07T15:10:00.000-04:00

I've been spending a lot of time being pissed at Ben Wallace for leaving Detroit for Chicago. But I just realized I did the same thing. That makes me sad.

Even God hates your movies...

2006-06-30T14:22:00.000-04:00

...and He liked "Problem Child 2"! I've also heard that He's usually a pretty big fan of the kung fu-prison-comedy genre, too. Listen, Rob. Think of this incident as a wake-up call. Movies aren't for you. Perhaps you could take up marine biology or data entry. Maybe you could write jokes for greeting card companies. You're kinda funny once in a while, and with a good editor, you could do very well in that capacity!

Update!

2006-06-30T11:45:00.000-04:00

Not really. I'm still so mesmerized by the Washington video that I don't know what else to say. Keep watching it - over and over and over. It gets better every time.

Reason to live

2006-06-22T10:34:00.000-04:00

You may notice us here at BC have been a bit absent lately. Sorry, nonexistent readers we got billz to pay.

Enjoy the video, via goldenfiddle.

Thunder... Thunder and lightnin'

2006-06-21T14:26:00.000-04:00

A wicked storm rolled through here last night, and before and after it hit I was outside snapping pictures in the hopes that I could capture some lightning.

The first one is actually a nuclear bomb going off in Milwaukee. I hope no one got hurt.

I sort of got a bolt of lightning in this one, but there was a tree in the way.

All the light in these pictures is from lightning. Otherwise it's almost totally dark around here.

Ooooh! Scary!

Awesome.

What happened here was I was about to take a picture off to the right when I saw a flash on my left. I wheeled around and caught the lightning bolt in time, but the result was a blurry picture. Still kinda cool.

This is the best of the bunch. Open the big version for the best view.

Theater of the Street

2006-06-16T10:04:00.000-04:00

Latino dude: "Hey, are you for real about the golf outing?"

Black lady: "WHY WOULDN'T I BE FOR REAL?"

- Overhead at bus stop as I walked by this morning.

Royal Rumble!

2006-06-14T15:30:00.000-04:00

Thanks to Aubs for emailing this here link to me. Bitch goddess Ann Coulter and everyone's favorite cantankerous old man, George Carlin, will both be appearing on The Tonight Show this evening. Normally I wouldn't think of watching Jay, but this could make for some captivating television. My money's on Carlin in the third round by TKO.

6/6/06, To Hell and Back

2006-06-07T05:25:00.000-04:00

"Woe to you, oh Earth and sea,
For the Devil sends the beast with wrath,
Because he knows the time is short.
Let him who hath understanding
Reckon the number of the beast,
For it is a human number.
Its number is six hundred and sixty-six."

--Iron Maiden (or maybe it's the Bible, depending on whom you ask)

Yesterday, June 6, 2006, was a day of great significance in our culture... or something. It was somewhere between a regular day and a holiday... or something. I don't know what it was, really. Actually, I think it was nothing, but no matter: Thousands of people turned up in the tiny, tiny hamlet of Hell, Michigan, to celebrate whatever it was we were celebrating. The city of Hell literally consists of three buildings: a liquor store, an ice cream shop, and a bar. Population: 72. That's it. So what drew 10,000 people to the middle of nowhere? Shit, I don't know. I was there to observe, and here's what I found.

This sign is on the side of Screams, the ice cream parlor. I think the little devil pictured is 75% retarded.

An interesting take on the such-and-such place is over there sign.

A view from the parking lot of the Dam Site Inn. "Damn Site" would be a much cooler name, but they went with "Dam Site," because, well, there's a dam right behind it.

About 50% of the attendees were bikers from various biker clubs/gangs. Another 25% were Goth teenagers, and the remaining 25% were regular old families from the suburbs and business types from Ann Arbor and Detroit.

Oh, and this guy. Of the three preachers I encountered in Hell, he was by far the nicest, but that's not saying much. He was a dick to be sure, but at least he didn't tell me I was going to the other Hell (the one with all the fire!).

Another Christian gentleman posed this question. I chose a combination of B and C.

The dorkiest bunch of atheists I've ever encountered. Still, wherever the Christian guys went, the atheists stood in front of them and unfurled their banner, which was quite amusing. The entire time I never heard a single one of them speak.

Moses was hangin' with the atheists! And he brought his video camera!

Can you find the Christians in this picture? (Hint: There are two of them.)

If you're going to rename Portage Creek, call it the River Styx, for chrissakes!

Two of the four horses of the Apocalypse. (Not pictured: the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.)

This poor unfortunate child was run over by a hearse. Oh well.

Speaking of hearses, the Hell, Michigan, Hearse Club was in town!

The ghost of Elvis made an appearance and performed AC/DC songs on an acoustic guitar. Surprisingly, he was pretty good.

I'm not sure what this guy was supposed to be. I think he might be a long lost member of GWAR.

There's a churchy kinda thing in Hell! It's about the size of a closet, and there's nothing inside. I heard they were going to host a few weddings there later in the day, but I didn't stick around for that.

Right after I took this picture, this little dude was sacrificed to Satan, and we drank of his blood. It was very refreshing, and it was free! Can you believe they wanted $8 for a bottle of baby's blood?

This gentleman and his assistants were by far the highlight of my day in Hell. He spewed the most magnificent venom at everyone in the crowd. He pointed out individuals who were drinking beer, smoking, or just standing there and told each and every one of them that they were going to burn in Hell for eternity. What a nice fellow. Shit, I'm a better Christian than this guy, and I'm not even a Christian. (I got a little video of this guy, and once I get around to firing up Premiere, I'll edit it and post it to YouTube.)

The man's wife, standing idly by holding a Bible and watching the couple's infant child (good luck in life, kid), looked bored with the whole thing, but she would later prove me wrong on that account.

An angry biker chick gets all up in his face, much to the delight of the crowd. It was impossible to hear what she was saying over Dickhead's bullhorn, but it was amusing nonetheless.

The fellow in the orange Tennessee hat, while likely drunk, provided some biting commentary without even opening his mouth. He started by standing about two feet in front of the bullhorn and feigning interest.

He stepped it up by spending several minutes walking in circles around the loudmouth, never once cracking a smile.

Finally Mrs. Dickhead took over, and her hatred was far more potent. Not only did she say we were all going to Hell, she also said that God hated us. Paraphrasing: "The Bible doesn't say anything about God loving you. If you live in sin, you hate God, and God hates you." That's not what I learned in church as a kid, but if you say so... (Note the young man in the hat at far left talking to Dickhead. As Dickhead told us later, the young man tried to reason with him by explaining that he was a Christian himself. Dickhead wasn't buying it, however. He said the man was a fake Christian and that he was going to Hell for drinking beer.)

Finally, this wacky old man summed up how everyone felt about the whole deal.