I have nothing but love for every creature on this planet, but if he don’t let my darling Crystal go, I’m gon’ flirt with the Devil. Show him a little bit of shoulder. How you doin’? He gon’ start lookin’ away, I’ll start twerking. He gon’ be drawn in. Seduce that little mothafucka, give him one of these. ‘Hi.’ Battin’ my eyelashes at him. Then when he least expects it, and I got his trust, that’s when I’m gon’ ride that nigga. I’m gon’ give him the night of his life, a night he ain’t ever gon’ forget. And I’m gon’ give him this way, I’m gon’ give him that way, and then, right when he about to climax, that’s when I’m gon’ clench up my pussy on that mothafucka’s red dick, and I’m gon’ snap that nigga’s cock off with a divine kegel…
“It used to be that proximity to staggering, hilarious wealth would spur you to greater ambitions. In my early twenties I used to work so hard and for so long that I kept passing out like a fainting goat. I would remember all the names and the affiliations and log them dutifully and follow up and meet and talk and drink and dance and fake-laugh and sometimes real-laugh, except that when you’re drunk with someone who has something you want, it doesn’t count.”—
(what’s up with one of the amazon categories being “kindle short read, one hour (33-43 pages)”? now I gotta feel like the last person in the exam room when I don’t finish the kindle single in under an hour? they manage the span of our attention, also the density!)
is it weird the iPhone 6 is coming, but we’re only just recently getting around to a serious take on the Cuddle Mattress 1.0.
seems we should have this solved cause it feels like every *big spoon* (the snuggler, not snugglee) gets in their first serious relationship and in their mind *invents* the cuddle mattress, or cuddle pillow. probably most often trademarked as, “y’know, just something to help my arm when it’s under your neck and we’re just hanging out…”
a cuddle pillow would probably help a lot of relationships get through bad times, as the emotional support proffered when snuggling a partner is often bittersweet when it comes with physical sacrifice like the loss of an arm. once one invents the cuddle mattress one is ready to enter the world at large and likely go on to mentally invent the pee-shield (for men!), the bidet, kiehl’s cosmetics since 1851, and many varieties of perfect women, men, etc..
“My goal as a website is to ‘be the asshole who pointlessly interjects himself into the conversation’ without being as overtly annoying as ‘the asshole who always pointless interjects himself into the conversation.’”—carles
soooo, this had to be weird for DJ Mister Cee to hear a gajillion times?
"so anytime you ready mister cee, we gonna get hardcore on these homos…"
"n’s press they luck’n, they get a butt fuckin…"
and it’s interesting because in context of the culture, biggie was relatively progressive w these lyrics. getting a little graphic was part of the legend. your average 90s battle-rapper would ramble ad nauseam about not being a pussy blahblahblah, and so the writer christopher wallace responds, “n’s say i’m pussy, i dare you to stick your dick in this. if i was pussy i’d be filled with syphillis, herpes, gonorrhea, chalamydia, getting rid of ya…” if the culture gives you “no homo,” big gives you, “n’s press they luck’n they get a butt fuckin’, straight up the ass raw dog w a rash … “
maybe that reads offensive to some, but I see the same dark wit I enjoy from subversive-when-they-want feminist writers like tina fey and mallory ortberg and amy schumer, pointedly using insecurities associated with identity politics or cultural orthodoxy to decapitate their enemies, women and men alike.
and like the best *humorists* biggie knew to blast himself too, “who you choosing? the wack emcee or the black fat emcee?” all part of big’s mystique and genius.
and dammit if we didn’t call gang starr being represented. so very validating. me and kim should party, or go through some trauma together. (though "the planet" was a surprise, but totally perfect, selection.)
look, I don’t write the news. but the shit says kim gordon listened to a lot of hip hop when she broke up with thurston moore. that’s just something we shouldn’t forget.
for some reason 60 Minutes, 20/20, 30 for 30 and everyone else didn’t see fit to follow up and ask what songs are on the playlist that soothes the pain of a Sonic Youth breakup…
feminist punk icon in the dumps? which artists get the nod for the kim gordon breakup-trauma mostly-hip-hop playlist? what truly bumps for the traumatized? is it contemporary or old school? escapist club stuff? is it emo? it’s hard to imagine it’s all drake and kanye, like “Shot for Me” and “Runaway” and “Heartless” and “Marvin’s Room,” but I think that’s who I would lean on. kim gordon karaoke of shot for me sounds kinda hot tbh. *the way you’ve got your hair up, did you forget that’s me?* hit them notes, girl.
but it could be anyone. kid cudi. old school outkast. beastie boys? Tribe? Em? does she rock ex to the next by gangstarr? nicki minaj?
whoever sees kim gordon next, be sensitive, but please let’s try and followup on this.
On deadline with a label that will do anything you say?
Talk a lot of money shit and need some impact symbol of hardcore blue-collar work ethic?
Need to show you’ll do anything to capture the tense anxious energy of when you were an underdog with something to prove?
Have absolutely no reason to sleep on an air mattress in a studio, cause as boss and main product really why would you need to do that - you could live in the studio with a nice futon or something - but fuck you gonna cop an air mattress and do that anyway?
Buy Demo Days Air Mattress(tm)!!!!
comes with… *headphones to use as microphone *food stamps *stank sweaty clothes
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"fam, do you smell me? this album is gonna be so stanky hot cause i’m here literally sleeping on an air mattress with stank clothes and food stamps to give my fans the hottest stankfire imaginable. do you smell me?"
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ok, I guess it would be cool, productive even, to work on a project and have something that means it’s really *go-time* now. Like lighting the torch for the Olympics. Producers, singers, emcees are bickering in the studio, and with cold dead eyes you go to the supply closet and pull out the air mattress. just drop the crumpled plastic heap in the middle of the room and watch the calm focus descend upon the room. for twenty minutes there’s only silent concentration and the sound of a machine (or assistant) blowing up the air mattress….
nah, i get it. shit, i use the sleeping on an air mattress trick just to psych myself up and reblog some miley cyrus memes. whatever you do, gotta make sure it’s done, front to back. how do you know you’re doing that, giving your 24-7 all, if there’s no air mattress involved?
“Is the second through fourth tier hip-hop scene much different from the rock scene? Because this guy’s story sounds like almost every rock band I like, at least all the ones since the seventies. And they all seem to speak very openly and even proudly about the rinky dink shows and getting screwed by distributors and club owners and everything. Not that they are happy about it, but it’s like a badge of honor in the rock world. I realize the image of rap is more about being super successful and rather than being outsiders and tenacious artistes like in rock, but I wonder if behind the scenes it is also harder to be less than a star in rap, where maybe rock has a system to sustain people on that lower level? Or maybe rappers just don’t have that model of how a career can go, and so when it turns out they’re not going to be stars it seems like more of a defeat where as rockers as long as they can keep touring and selling a couple thousand records it’s an acceptable level to work at?”—commenter on awesome onion av interview w j-zone
“He stood at the window of the empty cafe and watched the activities in the square and he said that it was good that God kept the truths of life from the young as they were starting out or else they’d have no heart to start at all.”—Cormac McCarthy, excerpt from All The Pretty Horses (via nonlinearnotes)
mark richardson with the excellent phrasing on difference between editorial (i.e. blogging) and “art”
sometimes editors point out something was wrong in what I’ve written, and I’m always like, WHY CAN’T YOU FIND MAGNIFENCE IN DESTRUCTION AND DECAY like my proes dose. why don’t you like the aesthetic i’ve built out of decaaaaay and losssss sssss ss s s ssss.
no one ever responds to that part.
PRO WRITER TIP: for those following looking for nuggets of wisdom on how to really do this thing. how to take it there. don’t — which is to say, Do Not — antagonize your editors with notions of magnificence in destruction. good luck!
ripped and stitched off the h&m ads, I bet this Badu cover would scorch the earth if placed in a mainstream movie w a female lead… or like an Amy Schumer sketch. all the m’ladies at brunch like: I’M A MAYYYYNNNEEE, I’m a full-grown mayne. too bad it only got used to move some h&m mom jeans.
“I had this reoccurring dream from the stage
in a suit with a fade
I had set the game ablaze
and they threw me a parade
I stacked a little change
took my family out the caves
but I was trapped in the maze like a lab rat
at the bottom of the barrel
where they keep the crabs at
no geico, no aflac
nothing to fall back on
but the streets where n’s cussed out the police and sold they crack on
better known as back home
where they treat the arabs and the spanish and the blacks wrong
there he go with that song
you may be tired but i spit what i’m inspired…”—