Category Archives: Worst Of All

04/21/2016 · 8:08 pm

A Fart In The Face

Earlier this year I crossed a boundary with the dog.

This is a different dog.

I’d eaten some godawful fried thing or another, and feeling a buildup of gas, I leaped over to the dog, crouched directly above his face, and knocked a king-size fart across his nose.

Triumphant, I turned to face the dog, expecting adoration for this generous gastric flotilla. Instead, the dog regarded me with a reproachful look, the kind I expect people receive when they jiggle their comatose grandmother’s breast for a family photo.

“What’s the matter?” I asked the dog in plain English, as though he would reply in kind. “Don’t you, a dog, enjoy the smell of shit?” Continue reading →

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Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Worst Of All

Tagged as 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, advertising, Coke, corporate crap, despair, dogs, farts, laughter, movies, music, perfume, sellouts, whores, YouTube

04/06/2016 · 4:04 pm

I Don’t Like The Drugs (But The Drugs Like Me)

“The sedative for coughs”, until 1913.

Here in Atlanta’s Little Five Points neighborhood, we lost another local musician to heroin. I won’t write his name here, because I don’t want to inextricably link him with the drug that killed him. But there’s an anguished frustration every time this happens, when the needle takes yet one more.

Junk has been a cancer on music since before Charlie Parker played a note. It has taken too many casualties to list here. It seeps into cinema and art like toxic groundwater. No one does better work while on heroin. It improves no experience; it only makes one atrophy. What it does, is put your soul in terrible pain, and then dulls it. Nothing it does helps you or anyone else in any legitimate way. Continue reading →

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Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Idiot's Delight, Worst Of All

Tagged as 1990s, alcohol, Atlanta, behind the scenes, cocaine, death, depression, despair, DMT, drugs, ecstasy, heroin, jail, John's Arm:Armageddon, laughter, Little 5 Points, LSD, suicide

03/24/2016 · 4:05 pm

Reborted

Moviegoers today act like naked Kate Winslet in Titanic, coyly demanding Leonardo DiCaprio to draw her like a French girl. A preternatural relationship has been forged between audience and studio. A production falls all over itself to seduce a fandom, because that’s where the blindly loyal dollars are. If a popular intellectual property is even slightly altered for a motion picture adaptation, it’s headline news, even above mass murder and election-year chicanery.

Eventually, this film will be remade, and this scene will feature different actors, pretty much just to fuck with you.

The movie industry has become such an intellectual wasteland that the 80s era of numerical sequel-mania looks dignified by comparison. Honest promotion and word-of-mouth don’t work anymore; attention span is dead. The only way to really sell a remake is to get people steamed. Take the things viewers loved about an original film, and subvert them. Serves the suckers right anyway, for falling in love with a fictional universe. The names P.T. Barnum and J.J. Abrams aren’t similar for nothing. Continue reading →

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Filed under Don't Know Don't Care, Idiot's Delight, Late To The Party, Nostalgic Obsessions, Saturday Movie Matinee, Worst Of All

Tagged as 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, breasts, comedy, corporate crap, Disney, Dukes of Hazzard, Fantastic Four, Fight Club, Friday the 13th, Ghostbusters, Godzilla, horror movies, Jem & The Holograms, Kate Winslet, Lost In Space, Marvel comics, movies, National Lampoon, Nightmare on Elm Street, reboots, remakes, RoboCop, sellouts, Star Wars, The Simpsons, Titanic, Transformers, Tron, TRON: Legacy, Vacation, whores

03/12/2016 · 2:40 pm

Women Don’t Whistle

In my experience, I can’t recall ever hearing a woman whistle. In fact, I think women hate whistling.

Whistling is used by men because it’s the only sound we can make that can be heard over distance, or loud noise. Before my voice changed back in grade school, I could imitate the coach’s whistle so well, I could call all the kids back to the gym. Women’s voices never deepen to the point where they can’t shriek, so there’s no need for whistling. Continue reading →

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Filed under Don't Know Don't Care, Faint Signals, Girls of BIUL, Worst Of All

Tagged as 1937, 1955, 2002, Emmett Till, Frank Zappa, men, Opie & Anthony, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Steve the Whistler, whistling, women

03/05/2016 · 2:22 pm

Bad News, Worse Timing

“Great minds think alike.”

That and coincidence are the reasons why in 1984, This Is Spinal Tap had a counterpart from the UK, Bad News.

The runner-up in the pants-stuffing joke competition of 1983.

The runner-up in the pants-stuffing joke competition of 1980s mockumentaries.

Continue reading →

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Filed under Bad Influences, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Late To The Party, Movies You Missed, Nostalgic Obsessions, Saturday Movie Matinee, Thousand Listen Club, Worst Of All

Tagged as 1980s, 1984, 1987, Absolutely Fabulous, Adrian Edmondson, Alexei Sayle, Bad News, Britain, Christopher Ryan, comedy, Comic Strip Presents..., Dawn French, Jennifer Saunders, Joanna Lumley, laughter, metal, movies, MTV, Nigel Planer, Peter Richardson, Rik Mayall, The Young Ones, This Is Spinal Tap, Vyvyan Basterd

02/22/2016 · 12:24 am

Hearts Are Trump

Gonzo journalism is a style of journalism that is written without claims of objectivity, often including the reporter as part of the story via a first-person narrative. The word “gonzo” is believed to have been first used in 1970 to describe an article by Hunter S. Thompson, who later popularized the style.

So last weekend I was about a hundred feet from Donald Trump.

Continue reading →

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Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Idiot's Delight, Worst Of All

Tagged as 2016 election, Donald Trump, Doonesbury, Elton John, Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72, Gonzo journalism, Hunter S. Thompson, laughter, Rolling Stones, Star Wars, Transformers, whores

01/18/2016 · 2:07 pm

I Never Liked You: INXS

Within my vast and dubious knowledge of music, there are holes. Some are tiny, like my ignorance of sex droid Taylor Swift. Others are much larger; one is the relative size of six Australians. I have never cared for INXS.

Nearly indistinguishable from Eddie Vedder and Pearl Jam.

The closest I got was “The One Thing”, which saw heavy rotation on MTV in the early 1980s. The band benefited from a visual similarity to other groups, like U2, UB40 and the B-52s, and this sameness ensured my future confusion. I just never found INXS that memorable. Continue reading →

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Filed under Don't Know Don't Care, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Nostalgic Obsessions, Worst Of All

Tagged as 1980, 1980s, 1983, 1987, 1990s, 1993, alternative music, autoerotic asphyxiation, Boston (band), depression, INXS, Jim Carrey, Joel Schumacher, Led Zeppelin, Michael Hutchence, music, Robert Palmer, Robert Plant, sellouts, suicide, The B-52s, The Power Station, U2, UB40

01/17/2016 · 11:24 pm

Hate Proof: Vengaboys’ “We Like To Party”

hateproof2
Imagine yourself sprawled on a nameless battlefield, exhausted, gasping your final breaths into the mud. The air is thick with the scorched smell of spent artillery and the moans of the dying. How long before help arrives? Is it even coming? All you hear is the distant whistle of a locomotive, as it slowly approaches with detached menace.

toot toooooooooot

They’re coming to round up the survivors, you think as you squint into the hazy distance. The end is near. Best hope that it’s merciful when it comes. Surely this must be the onset of madness, brought on by impending extinction. The stench of carnage gives way to the comforting scent of… cheese pizza? Ice cream sundaes? Funnel cake? Continue reading →