Lying in your bed, high and happy, tendrils of smoke drifting away from your lips in the candlight--delicate, stylized curlicues, like a Mucha painting.
And you, a Schiele sketch, perfectly undone.
I want you to feel amazing forever.
Perfect From Now On, like the Built to Spill album we're listening to.
Which, thankfully, doesn't include this "Freebird" cover:
It's a completely amazing cover, of course, but makes me think of these dudes:
Yeah, mood killer. Speaking of killers--and drifting like so much smoke away from my late night/early morning weed reverie--do you remember way back when, before his name was Earl, when Jason Lee was a skater?
And before Jeff Tremaine was a Jackass, even before Big Brother, when he was the singer for skate/BMX industry supergroup Milk? (Tremaine vocals, Mark Lewman guitar, Andy Jenkins bass, Andy's wife Kelly sax, RL Osborn drums.) And they sang "The Knife Song," which was in Jason Lee's part in Blind's Video Days?
"Shootin' guns is lots of fun/ That's how the West was won..." Those days were pretty rad, weren't they?
I'm going to lobby that use of the word "rad" will be a crime without at least a passing reference to Dizz Hicks:
Apparently that vid is a year old, but I was just hipped to it by Mike Daily, proud owner of a brand spankin' new--which is to say, decades old--CW California Freestyle frame and fork.
Portland had better get ready for some Daily-sized shralpin'. Speaking of rad ("psst...Dizz Hicks"), this photo has been making the rounds of the interwebs lately:
Of course, this rules all, until you realize dude is wearing an Ed Hardy shirt, and then the contradiction starts your head vibrating at that precise frequency where you know it's going to explode, Scanners style. Apparently the guy works for Ed Hardy. Hey buddy--stop taking your work home with you. It's gross. (Remember when Ed Hardy was a legendary tattoo artist and owner of Tattoo City and not the paragon of the New Jersey short bus 'roid scene? As Flipper once so poignantly queried: "Isn't life a gas--it's just like living in the past." Sorry Ed, you're eternally tainted. Though, for that many millions, I'd let a nation of drooling knuckledragging would-be rapists with Oompa Loompa tans wear my name across their taut mantitties.)
I prefer Jose Yanez's version:
When you're Cru Jones's stunt double and the first guy to land a backflip on a BMX, you're basically the raddest guy in the room at all times, unless you happen to be in the room with Dizz Hicks.
Get down with your rad self, Jose. What about this Cru Jones Rad Racing Flip cam?
Speaking of rad tattoos, but in a completely different way (t.A.T.u.), whatever happened to these broads?
Actually, don't answer that. Who cares? Just to know that someone svengali-d together a pop group of jailbait Communist lesbos is enough to restore my faith in the world. Kim Fowley would be proud.
And speaking of half-shirts, check this photo of Pete Augustin I snagged of Dave Nourie's Facebook:
Pretty sure Disgustin' Augustin is the guy in the half-shirt on the Torker. Not sure who the other cat is--if it's Nourie, he used to be yoked like a motherfucker. The best part about it is they're doing footjams, even though they have front brakes. Soooooouuuuul train!
The radness meter might just break with this one, once they land it:
I'm not sure what's so "mini" about that "mini mega ramp."
Sidehacks forever, man. Can't wait until Greyboy and Truly Odd's Impakt hacks become available at Wally World.
From the undeniably rad to the undeniably unrad, who can take us there faster than the kooks of "fixie culture." Just when you thought they couldn't get any more ridiculous, enter: the dildo bar. Pun intended:
Nothing screams "I'm a dildo" like actually bolting one to your bike. And while these overpriced steering dongs are actually made by the Japanese company Metallico under the name "Tsuchinoko-bar," retailers--and everyone else--are calling them "dildo bars." Even the fixed-afficionados at Bomb Hills Speed Kills had to say no: "criticise [sic] me all you want, but this is...cool in theory but in application it's not very cool."
Tell that to this poor Dutch fashion victim, who seems to think merely affixing a sex toy to his stem will lure saucy Russian lesbos out of hiding:
Yeah, that's sure to get you laid...almost as much as the art deco sheet metal bike stand and artsy/hideously uncomfortable IKEA chair you've got there. I'm going to start carrying around a tube of KY in my pocket for when I see a bike with these bars locked up. A little motion lotion where the hands go and it won't seem like such a clever idea anymore. "Aw man, someone's been ramming my dildo bar! So bummed."
Reminds me of the "Fixie Your Skids" T-shirt from Boicott:
That reason? Because you look like a fucking dildo, you fucking dildo.
Making fun of fixie kids is like shooting palsied ducks in a petting zoo. I've got more respect for this guy, who, apparently, is just riding around Copenhagen with a bag full of dildos:
Say it loud, say it proud--dongs are my bag! Brightly colored dongs in clear plastic bags, actually.
Speaking of wangs, while you're wasting your boss's money fucking around with your secret lover, The Internet, you should check out the dirty gay paintings of Christopher Shields.
"How dare you!," you say? No, really, you can see his art at www.dirtygaypaintings.com. As you can see, his work is incredible.
Somehow I started this entry waxing philosophical about waxing a fine lady and having a little post-coital reefer, and I've gone straight--pun desperately intended--to half-shirts, dildos, and dirty gay paintings. Oh well, if I ever decide to molt into a fantastic gay peacock, I'll be in the right place.
"You just gotta look out for those killer queers. They'll cut your throat from ear to ear." So sing early LA punks the Controllers on "Killer Queers." "Baby, I've got news for you--some homo's gonna beat you black and blue."
I've been listening to their self-titled LP constantly for the last week. As far as I can tell, it's a compendium of their singles, with a couple bonus tracks. Such a great record, and apparently out of print. The Controllers were a big "fuck you" in the face of political correctness before the term even existed. Tracks like "Do the Uganda" ("I wanna be black and look like Idi Amin") and "Hot Stumps" ("Well I cream my jeans when I see my baby crawlin' down the hall/My baby's got no legs at all/ She's got hot stumps/My heart goes thump thump") are both hilarious, rocking, and wonderfully wrong. They also cover "Barnacle Bill the Sailor" and the Sergio Valente jeans theme song. The bonus tracks on the disc are "White Trash Christ" and "Tail-Lights to Texas," both of which have a country punk feel to them, reminiscent of the Crosstops.
Go here to download the album. (And let me know if the downloading works...never done this before and MediaFire seemed to be acting a bit wonky. Also, if you're in the Controllers or have some, ahem, controlling interest in these recordings, let me know and I'll take them down if you're not feeling like sharing.)
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