Yes Please

We are existing in the eye of a financial implosion. you will wait in line for soup before this is over. In fact, I predict that you personally will be on some Oliver "may I have more please" shit. Its a super scary look but some remain optimistic...

Andy says that more millionaires came from the 1930s than any other decade.

Stuart says that more relevant American advertising concepts and logos came from the 1930s than any other decade.

Andy looks broke as fuck and knows way too much about the Hollywood bus routes to ever be a millionaire and today I loaned Stuart $100.

National Socialists: Martha Stewart's Nazis

Have you ever played next blog?
If you look at the top of this page you see the next blog icon. If you hit it you'll be transported to a random blog. Most of these blogs are fronted by bored moms in redneck locales, keeping us up to date every time their 18 month old rolls over or their 7 year old slays a deer with his daddy in the Kentucky woods.

Many of the blogs are in Spanish or Portuguese or some other godless language. These blogs are usually about gay local soccer teams. Heathens call it "futbol".

Well, I came across the most hilarious next blog ever when i discovered the official blogspot for The National Socialists, that's right, America's Nazi Party.

Unlike Hitler's rapid re-industrialization of Germany in the 1930's, Rommel's U.S. proteges have a different strategy for feeding the new Aryan revolution....the making and selling of soap.

This soothing swastika soap probably won't be available at Sabon in SoHo


The fuck does "88" mean, anyway?



OK, since Tom Cruise did it I feel like I can finally say it, too...Nazis were cool. I mean the original Nazis, not the hillbilly arts and crafts queer Nazis of the American National Socialists.

They look super cool, goose-stepping is way hipper than normal marching, rad haircuts, Lugers, dude, Lugers are sweet. oh, the 1939 Olympics! I cry a little every time i see Adolf out there with his funny little quips and gestures, intesified by the twitchy attributes of early 20th Century film technology.

I wish they could have been cool. The whole "killing tons of my ancestors" thing fucking bums me out because I feel like I would have been a damn good Nazi. I definitely have the hair for it.

Ginga Please!

This ginger baby has appeared on The Cunt before, simply for having the irresistable traits of being both a ginger and an American Apparel model. Well guess what, she likes to dance naked in night clubs for College Fuckfest dot com.


I'm not mad at a ginger

I Am A Garment Worker

I'm a garment worker and apparel manufacturing in Los Angeles has been effectively frozen...

This being the case I have been laid the fuck off and all of my still gainfully employed friends feel quite badly. They have come to comfort me with gifts of whisky and kisses.

Chris Berdine is my favorite.


Finance girls are definitely my favorite.

Like A Boot To The Brain

Have you ever felt like the world has straight kicked you in the head? Maybe the kick is something internal, like a tiny karate foot embedded in your brain.

Endless Celestial Sex: Understanding Mormonism

For the record, I think the makers of this pretty rad looking cartoon are haters. Let a fucking Mormon be a fucking Mormon. Their ideas are wacky but we all believe things that aren't true. When I pay some filthy slut of a prostitute for a real "GF experience" she's not really my girlfriend, but for those 7 minutes she's my everything, my boo for real. That's something I choose to believe.

I will give it to this cartoon; it was informative. I was truly stoked to hear the Mormon Church's explanation for the Negro Race. I can't wait for the sequel where they promise to explain the origins of The Gingers.

F.T.W. like a nympho

How long shall they kill our prophets while we stand aside and look?

If you can't touch their titties, why even have granddaughters?

Dude, this guy won!!

Quote Of The Day

So today's q.o.t.d is another BBM. This time from the homegirl Preezy...

"Yo, there's this guy that always comes into my work hollering hella hard, talkin' bout how much he wanna spend money and shit. I always thought he was hollering at my co-workers but turns out he's trying to get at me. I just didn't know cause he has this ridiculous lazy eye."

When I'm talking about homie and I say, "not a good look", I really mean that shit.

ja, bitte

Free Consuling

I found this flyer near the soda fountain at McDonald's. Free consuling? Legal help, too? The single parenthesi? "All from , "God Gifted". I like to see the entrepreneurial spirit in the hood, but fuck!

And what's with the photo of the bitch clutching her purse and shit? It's all so illogical that you could kill a Vulcan simply by passing him this paper.

I think mama would of had better luck applying to the Mickey D's where she was handing out these leaflets.

I implore upon everyone reading this post to call the number on the flyer. receive your free spiritual and/or legal counseling and possibly split a 10 piece nuggets and a Lava Burst Orange Hi-C.

Taping Lifts

Sometimes I tape industrial goings-on. Sometimes these videos are of elevators.

You could say that the footage speaks to the oppression of human ingenuity. The more we incessantly create machines, robots, artificial modes of transport, the more we separate ourselves from the natural world; inadvertently condemning our experience to one of inescapable isolation at almost a molecular level.

Or, you could just say that I’m taping lifts.

A


B


C

I gotta bitch named Kesha

In the age old tradition of grand Hip Hop sex joints...

If your a man

I have my theories of what it means to be a man; a REAL man. It’s gotta be more than lifting the lid when you pee. If my theories are true, than I am certainly not one.

Real MEN command respect.

Real MEN know how to handle relationships with women.

Real MEN have spent time behind enemy lines as prisoners of war.

Real MEN file their taxes.

Real MEN know the glory of having a finger up their ass when they fuck.

Real MEN take the bull by the horns.

Real MEN don’t describe things as “cute”

Real MEN say things like, “If it’s got tits or wheels, it’ll give you problems”

Real MEN don’t instant message half their day, over-utilizing smiley face emoticons.

Real MEN get their dress shoes shined by old guys with jerri curls on Broadway.

When will I make this transformation? I'm staring down 30, right now. 30 is reflective like a mirror and all I see in my reflection is fitted caps and “holler back” and crack pipes and half pipes and track bikes and slap fights with black guys on dance night at Dance Right.


Oh, by the by, the photo above was taken in the super gross, co-ed private bathroom on the 7th floor of the factory. this particular restroom has been deemed by the factory kids as "the abortion clinic". Someone was such a stickler for grammar that they came back to the clinic with a sharpie and scribbled out the incorrect "your", changing it to "you're"

...oh, NOW I get it.

If y'all are so destitute why are you dressed so cute?: Prop 8 Protest

Lyndsea, Quinten and I hopped on the Sunset-bound No. 2 bus with the dually-related purpose of participating in a march against the recently passed voter initiative that effectively bans gay marriage in California (The gayest state of them all) and tramples on the thousands of recent dude-on-dude/broad-on-broad unions that have taken place over the last 18 months and burning a fucking straight bar to the ground.

So we boarded, and peeeaced!




We arrived to a scene of gays, straights, moms, sisters, dykes, femmes, dads and more gays...



One problem. these people were serious about conducting a peaceful, respectable march. They wanted to come out in numbers showing their detest for this hateful new proposition, and they wanted to obey the law the whole time. FUCK!! We were high on visions of over turning Altimas and burning fucking straight people clubs to the ground, these jokers were bent on expressing their First Amendment rights.

Quinten and I started to get a little nervous...


It turns out my friends are more interested in drinking the backpack full of beers and arrowhead bottles of Andre we brought than organizing to protest this evil new entity in California:Proposition 8. If you, however, would like to show your contempt for this scam perpetrated by right wing jesus zombies,you can click here and find out how to march downtown this weekend. car burning optional

Tigerbeat-off: Shame on the Train

So, if you live in this city and you steadily mob around in your whip, like always; you never bike or take the train I feel sorry for you.

While I agree that Big Boy in the Morning is fucking funny, Power 106 doesn’t have shit on the type of hilarity you’ll encounter while traversing via L.A.’s famously sparse public transit system.

This little nugget of perversion was snapped by my friend Candace yesterday while on a Southbound Caltrans to Orange County


This 40 something Mexican-dressed-as-as-a-Persian is thumbing through the latest copy of TIGERBEAT!

This fool has no shame in his game! I mean I want to fuck Zack Efron as much the next guy but I dont bust out my tween/twink jack rags on the fucking 6:00 to San Diego.

Sign ain't lie

"He called me a NIGGER and told me that I must be poor or homeless because no one would carry a winter jacket around in July. I told him it was North Face and all was settled."

The Psychedelic Fred Rogers: Mr. R discovers Bruce Haack

Das ist mein ganzes Leben in einer Videobüroklammer


Zu mehr über den unglaublichen Bruce Haack erlernen
Zu einiges von Bruce' hören; s materpieces in der Kindheit von electronica, klicken hier

HATER ALERT! HATER ALERT!

This journalist represented Crunchilvania in the '04 Hater Olympics. He took home the copper in the 500 M salty look contest while failing to place in his other event, Heavyweight Men's Mean-Mugging.

PDX: The next Rap capital?

Portland is my favorite rap city right now and your boy Ohmega Watts is the unofficial Bridge City mayor.

Let's see, we grew up in New York, popped our cherries in LA, got stoopy down south, Hyphy up north...are we really ready for that rainy day women rap?



peace to Fresh Selects and the Pac Northwest.

What do you tell a broad with a black eye?

Nothing, someone's already told her.




Not only is Miami a rad punching bag, but she's also one of my favorite LA artists. check her other band with Pop levi.

Baby Mama Drama

White people are crazy!!!

On Deck: Squarepusher-Just a Souvenir

The new Squarepusher; Just a Souvenir came out this week. I’m always interested what that limey mofo comes up with, so I sauntered down to Tommy’s crib to give it a rotation.

WTF? It’s all over the place, but totes in a good way. Some of the tracks are like weird Power Pop-Rock tracks. Others sound like they are joint collabs with Yes and Flaming Lips. There is this one jam that sounds like Slash joined the circus for the summer and then wrote a song about it.

However, I know what you like. You like retarded drums and this record has that in spades, which is exactly why you should cop this shit here.

The Freshest Five

Why is there so much ill shit, right now? Two years ago I was hungry for beats, fucking thirsty for rhymes. There was good rap on the radio but I was sleeping on the underground; opting instead to focus on the amazing feats being accomplished in the realm of Noise and Punk but you know that Wee Ginger Cunt needs that boom, bap, boom, boom, bap!

Well when it rains it pours and it’s fucking hailing dopeness, as of late. I see a lot of Dilla influence weaving through this new school, but fuck! Who hasn't been inspired by the great J.Dilla?

Without further rigmarole, I present the WGC Freshest Five…

Mr. Diabiase-Carrying Watts on his back


Devon-Carrying Portland on his back


Hi-Res-State to state, track to track


Das Racist- Kings of that Wikipedia rap


Suzi Analogue-Fuck you, I’m pretty

Blunt+Crush=Blush...See if you ain't heard

"I'll crush a square"

Seeing how this is my second article on mentholated blunt smoking; I pretty much consider myself the premier journalist on the subject.

Unlike my prior piece, which dealt with Swisher’s Ideas of what menthol blunts might be like, this project was a tad more hands on.

A couple months ago I first came across camel’s new “Crush” cigarettes. They have some sort of capsule, tucked away in the filter, which will instantly mentholate the previously normal cigarette. This is obviously a gimmick to pull in young smokers that enjoy the experience of “Hearing the click and changing the taste”, as the box says.

Dudes, it totally works!

But I realize the pitfalls of tobacco smoking, no matter how delish it may be so I decided to attempt to extract the menthol-rich filter and drop it in the beezy.


I started with some real Cal-Cali,a normal Swisher (I was kinda feeling peach Optimos, but I thought I should try a standard Swisher as a form of scientific control) and the crush filter, from which i trimmed about a 1/4" from each end






Then I just ground my shit and tossed the loaded filter in the end. perfecto!


OK, so this thing was a million times better than that stupid menthol blunt that Swisher marketed. I'm telling you, motherfuckers are going to be on this shit. Smoking through the filter didn't seem to have any ill effects to the potency or draw of the blunt, just that cool winter breeze that you've been craving in a fucking weed blunt. Next stop LSD-infused York peppermint patties.

Juiceboxxx @ Pehrspace 10/20/08

“I Don’t Want To Go Into The Darkness”


I saw Juiceboxxx rap at Pehrspace on Monday. It was an early show due to J-Boxxx’s 11:15 out of LAX.

Even with the tiny crowd that 9:00-on-the-dot performance draws and even though the store front that makes up Pehrspace was lit up more like a strip mall discount store selling baby cribs and strollers…Juiceboxxx killed it.

Hailing from Milwaukee, WI J.B. wields rave-rap of my favorite variety. The one thing that is true of any of his shows is his hilarious ability to move the crowd; quite literarily. He physical moves the kids at his shows around the room, pushing them against the wall and constantly reeling them back, with the request “Let’s bring it back in, y’all”

He’s crawls into every conceivable cubbyhole in the venue, stopping only to share creepily sweet moments, forehead-to-forehead with boys in the audience.

Juiceboxxx is a total slut and I love it.

Comme De Garcons for H&M

HOLY SHIT!!

Like Lagerfeld and Viktor & Rolf before them, Comme De Garçons is taking a stab at “fashion for the masses” with their new line for über-retailer H&M.

Most of the stuff is looking pretty fly with price points high for H&M but hella cheaper than the Comme De Garcons pop-up shop next to 107.

X-Mas shopping for me just got a lot easier


Check the technique…


This is my shit, right here!


fucking fashion for the masses


Fresh dressed like 300 bucks?


saddle up, baby


I remember when the hood used to rock Looney Tunes short sets. Polka-dot is almost as crazy


These trainers are definetly the business.

Thanks to the homies at Nitrolicious

Because you need a little persuasion. Plus, you need a little ventilation.

It was the Summer and we listened to all the Summer hits on the radio. Now, the night comes much earlier and I have been conditioned to believe that all of the radio jams are about you.

So, I started listening to the classics...


They were about you, as well. Then I remembered where I first heard that melody; it was 1996...


Good 'ol Wu Tang. I haven't yet figured out how their shit is about you.

Please Believe Me

So, The Bruce SpringStreet DJ's are getting together for another installment of CRASS MONDAYS at Bar 107, this Monday, October 20th

It's traditionally a Punk night where we rinse classic Punk, Noise, Garage and shit like that.

However, I am going to play Ghettotech and Booty Bass, 'cause right now songs about Anarchy make me sad.

BAR 107 is located in lovely, historic Downtown LA on 4th Street between Spring and Main. We start at 10 and rage 'till you leave

Consumer RepWhore: Mexican Coke

You guys are all sitting around drinking domestic Cokes like chumps.

NO NEED! They bring the good shit right over the border.

late last night I heard the screen door slam

I wasn’t more than 15 when Joni Mitchell first convinced me that you don’t know what you got ‘till it’s gone. It’s a lesson in temperance.

Here I am, 15 years later, paving paradise to put up a parking lot.

I suppose ample parking is important. Plus, who needs trees when you can visit a tree museum. I have a buck and a half, anyway.

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday

Sundays in the park are my favorite...

On Deck: Ponytail Ice Cream Spiritual

The Baltimore scene has received some much overdue attention over the last few years.

Lily Allen linking up with Aaron LaCrate and posting up in The B.

Rye-Rye is laying it down, doing tracks with M.I.A.

Club Queen K-Swift (RIP) brought B-More to the forefront, as well.

Ponytail sounds nothing like any of these people. Their record, Ice Cream Spiritual is just left of stoner rock with super-fun guitars and wispy song structures.

The loose writing fits nicely with the Maryland traditions established, of late with fellow Baltimorons Avey Tare, Panda Bear and the Paw Tracks posse

Molly Siegel’s vocals are squeaky and cooey, but throaty screams make cameos.

This record is straight B-More backyard boogie redefined. By the 5th song when my speakers proclaimed, “OH NO, I’M LATE FOR SCHOOL!!” I had become a Ponytail fanatic…Pull My Fucking Hair

We Are Free!!!

High Places/Abe Vigoda 10/10/08, The Smell

As I walked up the alley leading to The Smell I noticed what looked like an in-between-set alley crowd of a smallish variety; strange given the year of popularity New York’s, High Places has enjoyed.

I soon found out that was because Ponytail was mid-shred and the fucking place was packed; SOLD OUT sign on the door. “High Places is playing for free at Family Bookstore, tomorrow” Jim was assuring turned away show-goers.

“FUUCCKK, I shouldn’t have stopped for that burrito”, I thought.

We stood around in the alley contemplating for a moment when a drunk-ass Blaque Chris, in his constant effort to con me into making him an Afrika print spandex bodysuit, gets us some looks in the door.

Inside, we were bummed that we only caught the last two songs by Ponytail but Abe was next and they were fucking loud; like super-loud for The Smell.

This was their last hometown show before heading on tour with Diplo and Telepathe and you could tell that they are fucking fluffed. Such a good set bringing new intensity to old songs and executing new ones flawlessly. They really are LA’s finest.

As Abe exited, my ears were noticeably fucked but High Places were already setting up a fence of flight cases along western border of the main stage. I posted and watched Mary and Robert, the boy/girl duo that comprise H.P. fine tune many knobs, pedals and drum pads necessary to what they do.

Soon the crowd flooded back in and I couldn’t help notice how fucking young this band’s fans are, like Menudo young!

So, High Places tweaked and twittled, the music constantly chasing Mary’s vocals like a kindergartener chases a kitten in the sunroom; almost catching up, only to have the thing once again spring away. It’s child-like only in it’s refusal to wear a cloak of contrived seriousness that none of us were looking for that night in the alley.