Stupid blog keeps interrupting my thought process!
<3
I was just saying that i know "<3" is supposed to be a sideways heart or something, but, to me, it looks just like a fart cloud. The type of thing you would see coming out of a ruddy uncomfortable stooge on the wrapper of some Spencer's Gifts "Fart Candy."
Just sayin!<3
I haven't been on this Internet thing in weeks! Jeez!
First of all:
R.I.P. Bernie Mac
We will miss you, America.
I think its about time to brighten things up around here with a nice "Summer's over" Best of list.
Here we go:
How come the movie reviews in the newspaper and magazines are always written from the perspective of a drunk retarded kid? In our new feature, SPOILER ALERT!!, The HOly Dose weighs in on a summer blockbuster from its high horse & the view is spectacular.
Indiana Jones & the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
This summer's gonna be nuts cos Milton just got 2 boats! For real boats. We're gonna make one into a hot tub. Top that, top hat.
I'm developing a disturbing milf-crush on Sandra Lee from Food Network's Semi Homemade Cooking with Sandra Lee. I share her passion for fruity cocktails and not making anything from scratch. I think its really funny that so many women hate her. The haters even have a sweet name for her fans: Leetards!
My buddies and I always joke around about going out to Johnny's Hideaway (Buckhead's premier 'over 40' nite club) and finding ourselves a couple of nice Cougars that have nothing to worry about other than planning parties and soccer practice. I don't think it would be that fun in reality; I'm sure we'd probably just end up being harrassed by a bunch of wasted Paula Deens.
Check out this recipe for "Steamers":
I'm less embarrassed by my ongoing unhealthy obsessions with Giada & the Final Countdown:
The Southwest Dekalb Drum Majors with their no budget ringtone-ready hit:
I was inspired by Bradford Cox's blog, so I went through some old recordings on my hard drive and stumbled into the world of The Young Americans. In 1998 we went to Rob McGregor's legendary Goldentone Studios and he pressed record and drank Kool-Aid while we went crazy. Equal parts Gun Club, T Rex, Cramps, & Chuck Berry, T.Y.A. started as a joke; we were simply way into mesh shirts and the word young. We soon became notorious for guerrilla gigs at house shows. If you had a keg and an unknown Athens Indierock band that was foolish enough to leave their gear unattended, you probably paid witness to one of our "performances." I must say this was one of the easiest, most fun bands I've ever been a part of. I got to do a lot of cool stuff with that band in a short amount of time, like playing at the last Hardback show ever. It still influences my music today and is a direct inspiration for my current band, The Hiss. It would not have been possible without Nathan Birk (pictured, vocals), Todd Galpin (drums), or Young Mark (rhythm guitar.) Thats me on guitar, age 19, in the mesh football shirt and weird Bowie-esque pants. (Note: That shirt wasn't totally mesh; it had normal sleeves. I just recently found it... although it would probably break if i tried to put it on now.) On its 10th anniversary, I proudly present, in its entirety, The Young Americans: How We Did it in '98.
Click here to Download: The Young Americans: How we did it in '98
At the risk of sounding like James Murphy, I was there. All the elements were in place; party-starting jams that worship at the altar of Shaun Ryder and Kraftwerk, singer with an authentic British accent, over-the-top stage antics, perfectly themed costumes, & a live baby on the drum kit. After months quietly wrecking intimate gatherings for vegan bike messengers, this mysteriously exciting new duo set its sights on warmer shores. Mara, our den mother, & her team of gorgeous ladies play hostess to the most legendary get-togethers in town (read: hot gals, huge manicured gardens, shrimp boils, DIY mojito & mint julep bar, 2 Porto potties, etc.) As the sun set on an afternoon of pedestrian neo-folk, Judi Chicago take the stage and never let go. A dance party erupts into a sweaty mob of shaking tambourines as our heroes are still getting into character: karate suits, a kimono, & a 2 year-old baby on drums! I caught up with Ben and Travis at The Local to talk about the past, present, and future of Atlanta’s new favorite sons. I still owe Travis a burger.
Ben Coleman, the voice of Judi Chicago, has an easy disarming charm that works in contrast to his vicious English wit. Try to imagine a tougher, straighter Morrissey. Recalling the early days, “I met Travis while I was waiting for my green card. I couldn’t have a job and I was going insane sitting indoors day and night, and my wife had mentioned something about Travis wanting to do some electronic music with me. He hosted an electronic show on Georgia Tech’s radio at the time and my wife was the GM. We both loved Faust, Can, and the early Chicago house scene.” Travis, the sonic architect & Richards to Coleman’s Jagger, remembers their noisier beginnings, “When we started it was all about circuit bent toys & gigs at the Eyedrum. We lit something on fire one time; that was fun.” From their humble origins they have refined the Judi Chicago sound template into a beautiful mess of kitchen sink samples, cheap pounding beat machines, skating rink jams, and absurdist fast food humor. It’s a twenty-car pile up with Beck, Kraftwerk, Happy Mondays, Faust, Mark E. Smith, ESG, Moroder, and Ronald McDonald being rushed to the ER.
As Atlanta’s unofficial house party band, they bear the responsibility of pulling off the craziest gigs without a safety net. Travis reasons, “House parties are so in your face and that’s what we’re all about: Getting in the audience and being right up on everybody. Being in the crowd, ya know, like hanging out.” Part of their mystique is the refusal to rely on standard methods, preferring instead to bring their own homemade sub-woofer box, known as The Doghouse, and making it the centerpiece of their stage set-up, where a lead singer or maybe a drummer would usually go. It leaves Ben free to swing like a monkey from your bookshelf or wrap himself in your mom’s drapes while busting out lyrical gems like, “Dope me up and take me dancing!” or “Let’s get bumper to bumper, beat me up & leave me in a dumpster!” This childlike wanderlust is what brings the energy of the house party to a club gig. When someone sings, “George Bush is a lizard,” while crawling the filthy floor at Lenny’s, it drives their point straight home (without the awkward goodnight kiss.) This spontaneous renegade behavior is so effortless it begs the question: What’s going through your head up there? “We’re trying to show everyone that the usual boundaries aren’t there,” Travis reckons. “I just hope that people aren’t self conscious. The stage exists because it holds up some speakers and our gear. We’re there in very little clothing. It’s supposed to be ridiculous and the point it to have fun.” “It’s the messy way that we operate. The whole idea of the group was always to vomit out data. Trying to push it to that point is quite exhausting, really; trying to give so much of your own energy to it so that some of it carries over into the crowd,” offers Ben. “It works really, really nicely when it does happen, whether it’s because everyone’s on free Colt 45 or because you’ve done it til you’re actually bleeding out of your legs. Once you’ve reached critical mass, it’s fantastic!”
Riding high off the heels of their highly anticipated debut, JUDI CHICAGO x 1,000,000, the group’s been making time opening up for the likes of Gravy Train, Bonde De Role, Black Moth Super Rainbow, as well as traveling to their namesake city for even bigger club parties. By all accounts, the Dance Party Magic/Chicago gigs were mental, opening the door for more choice party invites. The future looks bright for the duo including more traveling, a remix series, some wacky international gigs (Ben performing in the UK simultaneously with Travis in Atlanta?!), guest DJ spots, even plans for a Judi Chicago burger. Guys, what’s on a Judi Chicago burger? “Skyline chili, a spandex sausage, licorice all-sorts, and pubic hair.” I seem to have forgotten my wallet; next time the burgers are on me.
- ©2007 Adrian A. Barrera
WEED WEREWOLF WONDERS WHY the heroes in every 80's action movie never take the dead badguy's guns? They might come in handy.
Stupid "Me"-decade!
Also, stupid Reaganomics.
XO,
WW
Laundry time again.
Close the clasps.
Put bras in a lingerie bag.
Wash in a washing machine.
Air drying is gentlest.
Read the directions, too.
I think most people would describe me as a "good sport." I'm pretty tolerant of self obsessive annoying bullshit. You need only scroll through my Ipod for proof. Its filled with 235 Days worth of (mostly) legally acquired music, ranging from to Magik Markers to the far superior Hall & Oates. In fact, I have become so obsessed with the idea of filling up the 80G hard drive that enabling the shuffle feature is on par with taking an all-inclusive trip to Sandals: Guantanamo Bay. Fuck Water boarding! Make these evildoers sit through seven hours of Steve Reich with a tiny bit of Billy Ocean in between... just to get their hopes up. I promise you, they will sing like mockingbirds.
Sure, its easy to joke about illegally mistreating prisoners of war- Jay Leno's made a fortune off of it. They almost deserve it. Terrorists make me angry! Heck, Jay Leno makes me angry! I rarely ever get angry at Hollywood; I almost never get mad enough to, say, smash a large vase or key my dad's car, but this time they've really done it! To you, Hollywood, I say this: resolve the writers' strike or else!
Ever since the WGA began its selfish, hateful campaign on November 5th, all i can think about is poor Bret Michaels. Without their help, he may never find true love. (Though he may have to work on his gaming skills- playing Every Rose Has Its Thorn to a captive audience may work on the new girls at the Applebee's franchise you Assistant Manage, esp. after- oops!- 7 too many Tequiza`s, but it's hardly the way to win the heart of a lady. Even if said lady's face looks as if it may have been hit with a hot frying pan or found in a loose pile under an old-fashioned, hand-cranked meat grinder. Can somebody please take the beer goggles off that guy.) Why? So some famous overpaid writer can have a couple of extra sick days to spend in Cannes or Vail? Baby wants a bottle, waaaah. Lil Baby needs better working conditions and better health care. Please, quit whining. I don't have health care. In fact, I technically am not allowed to bleed. If you cut me right now, I could go to jail.
By now you've probably realized I'm not the delusional "worker bee" that Hollywood claims I am. The type of Joe Slob* that thinks by watching Celebrity Rehab (BTW: Clever name, VH1. Are the people who name T.V. shows on strike as well?) the wheelchair guy from TAXI who is, apparently, addicted to farting, is my buddy. No thank you, VH1; I have real buddies that are addicted to farting.
Also, why are the commercials for Vagisil Wipes ™ so prominently featured during Celebrity Rehab? What are they trying to say about their audience?? Do T.V. commercial copy writers belong to the same unions? Is there something seeping out of Hollywood's un-fresh vagina that they don't want us to know about? I think there is. Old fashioned work ethic.
-Sir Adrian
**Please contact me if you are interested in picking up the revolutionary new series I'm developing.** (I'm talking to you ABC!)
Its a reality based-television experience called, Joe Slob.
Synopsis: An interactive game show where contestants compete by giving in to their basest desires, pissing away every penny they have on bad investments such as crack, meth, hookers, gasoline, Blue-Ray DVDs, etc. Then they only eat fast food until they're homeless. Next, we introduce them to a ball busting English nanny who puts them through a boot camp where they learn about manners and more importantly, themselves. Finally, they are flown to L.A. and given a makeover by the king of pop himself, Clay Aiken! The finale is taped live in front of a studio audience. America, and a small cohort of Dutchmen, then choose one winner who will live out the rest of their days in luxury as Paula Abdul's servant/lap dog/pill-scorer. The losers remain homeless.
EAST ATLANTA- We've all done it before. Hastily leaving the house, wearing nothing but a too-tight blue blazer and red bowtie. A couple of clever MIT students have been studying this phenomenon and their research has led them to what experts have already termed, "the most signifigant breakthrough in the field of naming, since Lou Gherig was diagnosed with Lou Gherig's disease."
Now the group is finding itself in the midst of a controversy. In the past, it was presumed that if a person left the house sans pants, it was that individual's choice. The accidental discovery of the Porky Pig gene (found while mapping the human genome for the gene responsible for bowtie wearing - Tucker Carlson is one of the many that has already benefited from their findings - Christian Science Monitor Oct.2007), has raised the question, are there other strains of this socially destructive condition?
Yes. There are.
DAFFY DUCKING - Involvthss drething like a dithspicable priethst with a lithsp. Editor's note: This ailment is often misdiagnosed as Sylvestering, a deep Canary obsession affecting succotash sufferers
BUGS BUNNYING - Carrot smoking transvestite robots are commonly at risk.
MS. PACMANING - Found predominantly in women, this behavior is characterized by full nudity, save for whorish make-up and the dreaded red bowtie; usually associated with a long night of pill chomping and ghost chasing.
Science, you really know your stuff!
-Dr. Adrian
DAY 1- Ladies and gentlemen, I stand before you in the midst of one of the fiercest snowstorms Atlanta has seen in years! There's nearly a quarter inch! Thank God for the local news coverage. I'd have never known how serious this problem is! Its like Hurricane Katrina II! Breaking News!..... No reports of cars slowing down yet, but that may change at any moment.
I expect FEMA and the National Guard to offer their support soon. We have plenty of supplies and power (for now.) Pray for us.... They're predicting a breeze storm next week.
I'm pretty sure i scooped Pitchfork on this one. (How does it feel to get scooped? Huh, Pitchfork? You like that. You got scOOOPed! ) It seems our old pals in DEERHUNTER have shrewdly pulled the wool over our eyes yet again. Some late night internet research reveals that not only is the group staying together for the meantime; they have also recorded a new album, 2004. The title has been a source of much debate on internet chatrooms all over my parents' house. Some believe its named after the heyday of droney murk, or perhaps, a reference to Dr. Dre's opus, The Chronic 2001. It may also be a mysterious tribute to Bush's second term. (He is pictured on the album sleeve crouching with a rifle.)
The album, seen here, is just the latest in a series of wild publicity stunts linked to the group. No tracklisting was available as of press time, but it appears it will be released on Atari, furthering public opinion that DEERHUNTER are nerds. This album is rated: Teen.
PS: Can we all agree to stop using the term, Indie Darlings? I feel like one of those sex predators from that show just for typing that. Its creepy.
HELLO internet,
This has been a weird year and i think 2008 will be even weirder still!
I'm currently shopping around a script! Its about a new rave DJ that accidentally starts a computer virus (CODENAME: spoonman) that kills the music scene in a sleepy southern metropolis (read: Atlanta.) Its up to a precocious bunch of frat boys (and an old lady) , who stumble into an underground burrito club to save the city before time runs out and rock n' roll dies forever! There's a car chase, some CSI style forensics, a talking cat, a robot that beatboxes clues, sword fights, culture vampires, a laser lightshow, and a magic record! I haven't worked out all the details yet, but dialogue and storylines are overrated anyway; i'm focusing on the merchandising first (action figures, headbands, candy, promotional sodas, limited edition NEW Era fitteds, etc.) I figure that the "story" will write itself. I'm just a vessel.
Hello weirdos,
Its been a while. I'm glad we have these talks. They're special.
Anyway... its been a hot, cruel summer in the ATL(anta.) I'm just gonna reminisce on this for a minute. Party along with this tune bad kids.
Music: Black lips - "Bad Kids" MP3 from Good Bad Not Evil
Dennis Wilson - "YOU & I" MP3 from Pacific Ocean Blue
My Grandfather, Lazaro Barrera, passed away this Wednesday, ending a long bout with Emphysema and a host of other age related ailments. His boundless wit and fiery demeanor will be forever etched in the memory of all of those who's lives he touched. He loved life; good food, dominos, fine shoes, tailored suits, and smart hats... but most of all he loved his family. Today we remember him, and i will always try to honor his memory.
