Three Words That Do Not Belong Near An NBA Star: Capri Pant Suit. If you need additional words that don’t belong, let’s add double breasted and polka dot.
Adventures of Christopher Bosh in the Multiverse finally released in full!
This Universe: Still Screwed
Quoth co-director Ronnie Rivera: After a long intergalactic battle with the evil forces at the NBA we are now safe to show people our short film.
Kiki Valdez will host a showing of his most recent work entitled “The Valdeziacs” at 101 Exhibit this Saturday. The tongue in cheek reference to the classic Warner Bros. show contained in the exhibit’s title should give you an idea of what to expect – frentic compositions fraught with cartoon imagery twisted into mild abstraction. Sounds like a fun time. There’s a Q&A with the artist online here.
Opening Reception is this Saturday April 27th from 7-10pm
101 Exhibit – 101 NE 40th Street. Miami FL. 33137
While it would be appropriate to open with an apology for the duration of these sabbaticals, truth be told our humble narrator does not quite care to apologize as he hopes the domain name for this website goes into arrears soon and is no longer guilted into coming clean with his promise of four thousand records or some such shit. Nope. It doesn’t quite work that way save for his regular and progressively more offensive incursions into the realms of the English Language and Her Grammars and Spellings. Will there be salvation for our hero? Will he learn the true meaning of Christmas in the end? Will he have the will to forge on? Those questions and many more completely not answered within these digital pages today. As a matter of fact, they will go largely ignored and unnoticed like a neglected and unloved child.
How To Replicate The Pleasant Confusion That Is Thurston Moore
A Guide For Neophytes
I’ve dreamt of sycamore trees, homemade ice cream off the via delle setti ponti, and ex-wife alimonies but I’ve never been as confused as I was at the muli-disciplinary homage to Kurt Cobain at the Gusman Center yesterday. Let’s talk about being lured under false pretenses, let’s talk about the incongruences of the recently aborted, and let’s pretend we like each other for a minute or two.
I think Thurston Moore’s all right; he’s a local boy who’s done well and is known throughout the land but I am so pleasantly confused about the last night’s “Kurt” proceedings that I’ve got to chime in.
How do we explain it briefly? Well, there was a short film, interpretative dance, a yahoo with a guitar, the Thurston and a newly anointed German on the skins… But is that satisfactory music journalism? I’ve never been on the carburetor dung end of things, I’m a sham, a put on, a plan B; but I’m still me.
So, through the magic of the internet, I’ll do my darnest to recreate that which I saw.
THL: If you were stuck on a desert island with only one song to karaoke to, what song would it be and who would you do it with? No cheating and picking the original artist!
Oly: Something thats a challenge, a fast rap song that is totally unintelligible. i tend to mumble my way through the hard parts but being on desert island could allow me the time to do it right. now as far as with someone.. dave chapelle? we could do dead prez hip hop. although he’s probably way over that song by now. he is so funny.
THL: On a potentially related note, who or what is your karaoke spirit animal?
Oly: Peacock? they sing but its really scary. or maybe a cat, have you heard them in the middle of the night? what a pair of lungs those felines have!
THL: Is being drunk at karaoke actually required or is that a myth?
Oly: No drunkenness needed, ever. but when it combines its like fried chicken and waffles. who knew it could be so good?
THL: Finally, in 15 words or less, please sum up your thoughts on karaoke as a force for good in society.
The Dwarves have been the most handsome and good looking band in rock and roll since the 80’s. Their travels and records are the stuff of legend. Gearing up to rock South Florida one more time at the revered Churchill’s Hideaway Pub this past weekend, we recently had the chance to conduct a rare THL interview with ringleader Blag the Ripper (or Dahlia, depending) and here’s how it went down!
The following is part four of the story “Joan of Arc,” concerning the temporal displacement and inebriated escapades of a womanizing retirement community activities director. You can read parts one through three here.
Everyone makes mistakes. Even old Saint Joan of Arc. It’s just that folks like Joan make one or two every now and then and folks like me make them all the goddamn time.
I’ll leave it up to you to figure out which is which.
- Let’s get reductive: Everyone is in love with Liz Tracy’s video about a woman, her butthole, needles, and ink. Everyone. You too, you just don’t know it yet.
- Your favorite summer jam™ is now being repackaged as a folk song.
- People are being elected! Somehow. Just not online.
- Camper is selling the ugliest mandals $115 can buy. This isn’t new, exactly, but still a sign of something ominous.
- Otto Von Schirach is dirtying the internet yet again. I’d put this in the “Summer” category just because this is reassuringly consistent.
- In closing: cocoa costs versus coca costs putting Colombia in a conundrum. Batman.
State stereotypes mapped courtesy of Google. Spoiler alert: Florida is weird, humid, trashy and hot.
No more intros. Not today, maybe not next week. Intros will come back whenever it chooses to emanate from its fur. Whatever the Hell that means.
The following is part three of the story “Joan of Arc,” concerning the temporal displacement and inebriated escapades of a womanizing retirement community activities director. You can read parts one and two here.
Sun. April 22, 2012 — Chica Chica Boom Chic (Uma Noite no Rio)
Well you can better believe I drank myself senseless on Monday night, what with Anne Frank materializing out of who-knows-where with a salty mouth and a fake ID and Joan of Arc armed and armored and gunning her hog past Jimborooni’s and all. Who knows what all I drank, but the next morning I sure was in a bad way. I was seeing double and was bruised in strange places and to top it off my alarm clock hadn’t gone off and I’d woken up at noon, which meant the old folks had probably been clamoring for an hour for a canasta game that would never come.