A fan of The Dark Knight gets ready to post on the Internet.

A final note on the Academy Awards, and then we will never discuss them again. Ideologically, I hate what the Oscars stand for; I watch them every year Read More →

What have The Beatles ever done for you? Nothing, that's what!

I own a Beatles t-shirt.  It’s green, has a fuzzy cut out of the band circa the Let It Be sessions on the front, and has some questionable brown patches Read More →

So playful. So romantic. So Morrissey.

It took me a while to get into The Smiths, because they are really easy to casually make fun of on account of what a flaming wuss Morrissey seems to be from afar.  Making fun of melodramatically Read More →

So you’ve been drinking for like, TWO HOURS.  You’ve got a burning itch (not the burning itch) and you know it’s time to text a loved one, or maybe a former loved one if you’re desperately horny, or maybe Paul Janka if you’re feeling date-rape-victim-y. Read More →

What with y’all groanin’ about the economy so loud I can hear you from here in my dorm room writing chamber, it’s time I let you in on a little something.

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To Fuck, Kill, or Marry Jon Lovitz?

emmy: I think marry The Lovitz
jeremy: actually, you know what i heard? janice dickson said jon lovitz was the best guy she ever slept with, amazingly
emmy: janice dickinson. she used to be so so pretty…before the SURGE
jeremy: In an interview on The Howard Stern Show in 2007, Dickinson claimed to have had sex with over 1,000 men.[13]
emmy: that’s pretty much a guy every day from the moment you Become A Woman
jeremy: Her past lovers include Warren Beatty, Sylvester Stallone, Jack Nicholson,[11] Liam Neeson,[11], Sir Mick Jagger[11] Dolph Lundgren, Grace Jones, Kelly LeBrock, and Bruce Willis.[12]
jeremy: Dickinson returned to New York in 1978.[4] She subsequently spent the next several years working steadily and partying often, reportedly interacting with celebrities such as John Belushi, Andy Warhol and Truman Capote.[4]
jeremy: that’s sex with 27 guys every year since she turned 18
emmy: oh, every other week-ish? not that bad
jeremy: actually, 28.5
emmy: oh shit, bangin’ half-dudes
emmy: does she get christmas break from the biweekly manbang
emmy: do threesomes count as two menbeng?
emmy: bengs? bengs, cause it’s plural, i am buggin
jeremy: it’s probably slowed over the years
jeremy: so it was probably like, 50-75 guys a year in her sexual prime
emmy: about a lecture hall’s worth
jeremy: she’s 53 now
emmy: WHAT
jeremy: maybe i should sleep with 1,000 guys
jeremy: and hang out with brilliant people
emmy: hmm, don’t sleep with 1000 guys
jeremy: but JANICE did it! i wanna meet truman capote, too!
jeremy: now…to invent a time machine.
emmy: janice’s vadge probably droops more than her face
jeremy: bet it’s like falling down an elevator shaft in the sears tower
emmy: or like rainbow road in mariokart, minus the rainbow
jeremy: or like when astronauts play golf
jeremy: THWACK
jeremy: sail
jeremy: forever
jeremy: in the vacuum

'I will not sleep until that dog Aubrey O'Day is dead.'

Of the cultures, American culture, in particular, is the one that confuses me.  The exchange of money for the consumption of your horribly watered coffee beans. 

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The Band, jamming on some stuff.

Picture the drummer, neck muscles tied taut beneath skin that roils in the heat of the stage, slick wet unmopped sweat falling down his face.  He’s slamming his sticks onto the drumskins, putting more than force or impact into the song but weight, the weight of experience and being that tunings cannot account for, but lilt. Read More →