He’s the type of friend who throws me under the bus. He tells me the bad dog business is peanut butter and he makes me think the ‘ludes is “inspiration.”
Archive for the ‘White People’ Category
Or maybe, coinki-kink?
So I love me some Solange. Homegirl is all types of batshit, bowlegged, Creole ka-ray-zaaay! Plus she’s got some unsettling obsession with goofy green screen technology that make my eyes feel barfy. Here’s new video, “Sandcastle Disco.” It’s like Diana Ross hosted Sesame Street and made everybody take ‘shrooms.
Plus it’s got similar drums to this…which I enjoy…
To me, it’s just a little too similar to this foolishness below which is basically every social worker’s nightmare. We’ve got Wacko Jacko, Dr. Doolittle and the Harlem Boys Choir skipping as CGI hearts fly around in their too-90s video, “What’s Up With You?” I’m expecting Roger Rabbit to waddle out with a cock ring any minute.
What’s up with you, indeed.
Who is Cazwell?
Sweden is for girls who look like cokey versions of the original Becky from Roseanne. So let’s welcome Lykke Li! She’s the Scandavian answer to Feist, with a healthy sprinkle of “um…ok” from the WTF Fairy.
I’m lovin’ it
So. If you remake one of the funkaaayest songs in the galaxy and it sounds friggin’ awesome are you talented? Are you lucky? Are you even relevant? Are you just a conduit for coolness? A receptacle for radness? A tunnel for tubularness?
Do they matter? Whatever.
You know what’s real in these streets? Alcoholism. Like, for serious. A restaurant can serve gasoline-soaked woodchips with Funion garnish for all I give a cotdamn, as long as there are bangin’ ass drink specials. Wednesdays at Anytime features all-night $1 well drinks which I now refer to as communion. If I’m meeting some friends for Sunday afternoon tea, I pick up a handle of Seagram’s on the way. You know, just for mothafunkin’ kicks. Everything is better, ( work, sex, violence, whatever), when the eyelids are a little heavy.
Anyway, the point is of this story, is well…nothing, really. I just wanted to hear myself type.
I do, however, have some related, kick-ass help for the broken-hearted: the ultimate blipster break-up mix. Too sad break-up music makes you a cutter and too happy break-up music just gives you a beat to cut to. Here’s a few songs that are distracting enough to make you forget your boo and to make your life a lil’ less stoopit.
1. “Hurricane Jane” – Black Kids
“It’s Friday night and I ain’t got nobodaaay, so what’s the use of making the bed”…If you want to feel pathetic-er than usual, you can wallow in this thrashy new wave gem and wail like the abandoned club kid you are. You big baby.
I’m a give it to you yokels straight. A bitch is finally gettin’ paid so she don’t have time to blog all the live long day like some pop culture peon. You rock hoes keep commenting and clicking on age-old shit that I threw together months ago on some,”fuck my job, I ain’t working for the next two hours” bullplop.
You know where I’ve been. I’ve been gettin’ dick. The dick done just infected my brain and I done lost my mind and made the idea of crawling my nekkid ass from under the covers to some eye-sizzling computer screen seem extra gay.