October 31, 2005

Trull – n. A woman prostitute.

Gimme a hundred, MC

How was your Halloween? Here was mine:

gimme a hundred mc, gimme a hundred mc, gimme baby, gimme baby, quail man needs money for prostitutes!!!”

Here are some pictures to explain everything.

Three modifiers to describe the night: loud, quaily, fresh.

October 30, 2005

Abrasive – adj. 1. Causing abrasion: scratched the stovetop with an abrasive cleanser. 2. Harsh and rough in manner: an unpleasant, abrasive personality.

biting off the soon to be trademarked and apparently making $$ at 17.99 a pop for which we need to receive royalties

so i’m cruising the internet fairly innocently at work and manage to stumble on a site with lots of ironic and fairly cool tshirts…
Busted Tees

and right on their main page theres a mediocre shirt with a rendering of billy shakes and under it, the sacred phrase, “prose before hos”

the description follows, click the link for the pic, which won’t last for long once we sic our crack team of lawyers on them, which i’m too disgusted to post (why i can deal with the text version is beyond me at this point, notice intoxicated/rant flags):

And here’s another thing. Ya know that cute girl in your english class that you’ve been trying to impress? This shirt should do the trick. It shows you’re smart and clever while making sure she knows you’ve got a sense of humor too. Place your order on a Monday, get the shirt on a Thursday, wear it to class on Friday and ask her out for Saturday. After that, welcome to Pantyville, population: you.

so basically our catch phrase has been turned into a pickup trick for hipsters who have no real game. unimpressive. well i bet those guys were too anti corporate america to trademark such a beautiful thing so that will be taken care of on monday. in any event, they got the entire spirit wrong. this is prose before hos, not prose to get hos.

i believe my crew of friends, i can’t remember which, or even if it was me, coined this key selection of verbiage. but its ours dammit. ours!

If you are what you like, then I’m…strange

So after years of liking dark, maudlin. whiny-boy music like the Cure, Nick Cave (in all his incarnations) and the Smiths, and loud loud post-punk stuff like Fugazi, the Hospitals, etc, not to mention my white-boy blues phase (the White Stripes, Captain Beefheart, Mr. Airplane Man, the Gossip), my musical taste has totally changed. I’m totally uninterested in hipster music now. My last hipster-approved purchase was The Decemberists’ latest album a few months ago and I listened to it all of once. Ooh, you guys are so WHIMSICAL, yet FULL OF PROFOUND, QUIRKY MEANING. I’m SO IMPRESSED. Groan. All I listen to anymore is rap and classical music. In my stereo right now is Chopin’s Nocturne’s, Beethoven’s 2nd and 4th symphonies, and an Aesop Rock album.

The only thing that I can think of that these two genres have in common is that rap artists and guys like Mozart all probably got laid a lot more than weirdo grungy punk guys. Guy from Fugazi, for instance – great musician, but he’s all awkward and spastic and looks like Where’s Waldo with a unibrow.

Also, I had a pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks today, and I’M NOT SORRY!!!

The End.