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.

Consumer RepWhore:TLC 1-Use Vibrating Cockring

So, I talk a lot of shit to girls. Stupid shit like, “I’m fittn’ to tear that ass up” or “I’m going to turn you inside out like a gym sock.”

Over the course of my life there has been quite varied reviews as to whether or not I can actually delivery on these promises/threats/vulgarities.

My prowess is not in question here BUT! You can imagine the type of shit I was talking when I was equipped with this fucking clit-tickling electric cockring.

I was like, “all right bitch, are you ready to get your face melted?” all fucking spreading the plastic tarp out on my bed, and shit.


This product from Topco sales in Van Nuys, CA (big surprise, there) promised that I would achieve “harder, longer erections” and that I would enjoy “15 minutes of powerful vibration” for my partner and me. I even positioned “the vibe on top of the penis for clitoral stimulation!”(There really was an exclamation point at the end of this sentence on the packaging).

The fucking thing was a dud…nada, nothing, no vibration. I’m sitting here with what looks like a Rainbow Brite necklace on my dick and fucking nothing. My dong looks like a candy raver. I have a fluorescently colored rum-barrel hanging from the collar of a miniature St. Bernard rescue dog. Like my cock is on a mission to save the life of a vagina stranded in the Swiss Alps.

Add this to the list of humiliating romantic mishaps I’ve achieved.

OK, I’m done.

Wave of Mutilation

This is what happens to my apartment when Golden Browne leaves for a week...





It looks like a group of very fashionable boys exploded in my living room...



That's AM, motherfucker...No sleep 'till Brooklyn...





Will someone show me how to work this fucking dishwasher?

quote of the day

our quote of the day comes from the fairy tailishly named, Tasi Rippel



"He looks like he smells like an old fridge."

I dont know what I LOOK like i smell like but I hope it's Drakkar and strawberries.

On Deck: Marnie Stern drops today

So, marnie Stern dropped her new record, "This Is It and I Am It and You Are It and So Is That and He Is It and She Is It and It Is It and That Is That" on Kill Rock Stars, today. which is the raddest album name ever, BTW!

If you're not familiar with Marnie's jams, she sounds like Yoko Ono fucked the band, Yes. Yes's amalgamated sperm created a baby, that baby raped Upsilon Acrux in the alley of The Smell and, voila, Marnie was born.

Of course, I neglected to pre-order this biatch so I can't actually review the new record. I mean, I'll get back to you, but unless she did a collab with the drummer of The Bravery, I'm pretty sure I will fucking love it.

ok, now let this bitch melt your face, real quick



uno mas...



thank you and good night.

Gnawing on the knowledge that I have been burned

STILL learning things that I should have already learned. STILL scribbling down stupid shit. STILL can't even remember if we were lovers, or if I just wanted to...


I'm starting to think Maxim Magazine is a rag for undercover gays, dudes painting their face, an ambiguous haze...I'd rather pace in place...a pathetic junkie on his way into space....I'm WAY into space....that's why I see galaxies when i stare at your face....Speckled constellations compete for recognition there in your eyes (originally written 03/12/04)