Thursday, October 4, 2007

THE WAR WITH MR. WIZZLE

David Duchovny once said, in the role of Hank Moody, "In the words of Joe Strummer, should I stay or should I rock the Casbah?" As much as it pains me, I've come to terms with the fact that Pop Montreal is a figment of my imagination. I'm turning a blind eye to that noise and venturing back to Ottawa to hang with my parents and all the dogs that live at the Hermon household. I might hang out with my brother Alex too, but only if he has time. He seems to spend a lot of it "lifting heavy objects" as my father likes to say.

You guys might hear some alright tunes this weekend but I will be raiding the most incredible fridge this side of the equator. Seriously. When I was home over Christmas, we had 16 different kinds of cheese! Happy Thanksgiving to the fridge in the kitchen at 136 Dorothea Drive. My parents' fridge. And the love of my life. I'm also going to get to catch up on my new favourite television show, Californication, courtesy of Rogers on Demand. Happy Thanksgiving David Duchovny. You're looking kind of hot these days.
























POP MONTREAL IS LOOKING HAGGARD.


















Couscous. It's fun to say, isn't it? Anyway, welcome to the SUPERFLY THANKSGIVING SPECIAL EXTRAEXTRA EXTRAVAGANZA. Mashed potatoes are 50 cents extra. That's just the way it is. Shut up and DEAL. There's a reason for the kids table. And it's called you're a brat let's flush you down the toilet and pretend that night in Vegas never even happened.

























Next thing you know, they take the kids from Britney and there goes your social life!


I would like to give an extra special Happy Thanksgiving to anyone and everyone that is American and/or Jewish. Like Tommy Lee. He's American. Happy Thanksgiving Tommy Lee. And the Barnas. They're Jewish. Happy Thanksgiving Dan and Ben Barna. And Dina Rosenberg. She's American AND Jewish. Go Red Sox! Happy Thanksgiving Dina Rosenberg.


























No way José.









That says miniature package. You might not be able to read it because everything about the above image is miniature and I made some poor decisions regarding colours and sort of ruined everything. 90210 TATS? That's the part that's hardest to see. Follow the arrows. It'll blow your miiiiiind...











BLOW YOUR MIND.


















Also, Happy Thanksgiving to Allison Zoe Brown, 90210 alum, and my ex-roommate. She's Canadian. She's not Jewish. She may or may not believe in GOD. She's definitely cool. She's definitely in Thailand. There is definitely no one making her a turkeybird over yonder. Maggie, Happy Thanksgiving to you too. Well girls, enjoy the jasmine rice and bring me back some coconut milk. Or lemongrass. Or Leonardo Dicaprio, whichever really...
























Allison Zoe Brown stars as Alliy, a young traveler with a curiosity streak that leads her to Thailand in search of adventure. This video-game fanatic finds herself following a map that supposedly leads to an island paradise. The accompanying soundtrack mixes the technological fascination with the exotic journey of the jungle, featuring several ambient electronica tracks (Underworld's epic "Ball," Leftfield's "Snakeblood") and other tracks mixed for futuristic sound. New Order provide the previously unreleased "Brutal," representing the sharper end of their spectrum, with a heavier guitar mix than usual. Asian Dub Foundation provide a modern interpretation of dub legend Lee "Scratch" Perry's "Return of Django." Sugar Ray expand their range with the calypso groove of Brian Eno and John Cale's "Spinning Away," and it's an unexpected gem. Bratty Britpoppers Blur remix "On Your Own" to sound like a video game gone beserk. [SOURCE: partially lifted from Rob O'Connor of amazon.com fame.]

I love Underworld. And video games. Thank Rael for the ice storm. I got to stay at Emma Dickinson's for like a week straight, and eat junk food and play GOLDENEYE! If it weren't for Emma Dickinson, Goldeneye would just be that movie with that sexy secret agent guy who played Sally Field's love interest in Mrs. Doubtfire. Remember when Robin Williams did the heimlich and everyone found out he wasn't an old lady?? Robin Williams rules. He is my favourite secret agent and ultimate fantasy dinner guest. Yesterday, today and tommorow.


























Come to think of it, if it weren't for Emma Dickinson, I probably wouldn't have even seen Mrs. Doubtfire. My parents thought television stunted intellectual growth and that junk food made you go apeshit. Look how I turned out! Happy Thanksgiving Emma Dickinson. Emma is far away in Australia eating dingos' babies. Oh, so that mean you gon' switch it on 'em...Yeah, Flipmode. Emma Dickinson is currently boffing her Aussie BF named what'shisface. Flipmode is the greatest.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P2asIbbS9aQ


Happy Thanksgiving Busta Rhymes.










You're not half bad, but could you speed it up from time to time?













What the hey, let's BATTLE! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nzAI58lEbFE


Interestingly enough, this isn't cool because of Busta's slow motion freestyling. His freestyle at the end is sort of harsh and I know battlerapping is all about dissing eachother but seriously Busta, you just stood up for this kid and now you're going on about "faggots" and "HELL"? Totally lame, totally lame. Some of my best friends are gay! Seriously. Resorting to bigotry is the lazy way out of battlerapping. And you WILL go out. 8 miles out. Anyway, I thought it was cool how Busta let this kid diss him for like 3 minutes straight and how he said "DO NOT DISRESPECT" when some other kid got jealous and started talking smack. Straight fire. Happy Thanksgiving Busta Rhymes.

Sometimes I get conflicted but I really do love hip hop. Some of it's mean though, we must admit. That Tribe song about not needing ham and eggs because they're high in cholesterol? Not at all mean. Pretty nice actually. I took it to heart. I haven't eaten ham in almost 10 years. And I feel great. Happy Thanksgiving to a Tribe Called Quest.

























Happy Thanksgiving to MY FAVOURITE MISTAKE. You make for a great Top 40 hit. It would be wiser not to, but I just might see you again soon because that is the nature of favourite mistakes. Mike Taylor thinks that Soak Up the Sun is the best Sheryl Crow song ever. As far as he's concerned, it might as well be the ONLY Sheryl Crow song. Boy is HE wrong! Happy Thanksgiving Mike Taylor. Here's a bright idea for you Mike Taylor. I think it's a good representation of my love for Sheryl Crow AND video games.


Forget Monica. We could all use a little bit of Erica in our lives. Happy Thanksgiving to my cousin Erica Young and the entire over-30 set that reads this nonsense (that includes my cousin Harley Young). Happy Thanksgiving to Mike Young as well...isn't it fun being in your 20s?! I think so too. One thing's for sure, your Uncle Petey's the SHIT.

This is a party blog. I'm a hypocrite. I'm a narcissist. I'm a hipster. That being said, I'm like sooooo tiiiiired of the sceeeeene. I can't believe the fucked up shit that goes in South America just so some lousy Plateau fucks can get their weekend cocaine fix. SOURCE? Someone you know, who probably doesn't remember saying it. If you knew who it was, you'd probably fall over laughing like my cousins and their Uncle Petey when they do the Manitoulin Snake Dance [see inset]. Party blog on.

Wednesday evening started out at the WESC headphones party at Off the Hook with some free Vodka Red Bulls. I don't particularly care for Red Bull but everyone knows I love free shit. Uncle Petey (but not MY uncle) met me there and then we went to Tokyo. It was mad early and we weren't having any luck picking up American Apparel alums so we went over to Pistol for some FRENCH FRIES. Uncle Petey asked for some mayonnaise and I couldn't have been more pleased. He then spent most of our caloriefest silently cursing Québec for having superwack mayo. Unbeknowest to either of us, we had been given SOUR CREAM IN ADDITION TO MAYONNAISE! I had been dipping in the mayonnaise. He had been dipping in the sour cream. Poor Uncle Petey. Sorry about the mix-up Uncle Petey and Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. It wasn't my fault though. They looked the same. Like Dan and Ben Barna. Anyone who says those guys are fraternal is seriously deranged. I heard a rumour they share a gym membership!

I'll take this oppurtunity to say Happy Thanksgiving to D.L. Barna and the Fran Drescher fam. You guys throw the illest jams. B-more? What's that?? ExACTLY.
























Anyway, Uncle Petey and I talked about a lot of cool shit. Like hard drugs, soft-core porn, Sudbury and young love. We even made a secret bet. That guy likes to buy tequila shots so I can't QUITE remember the SPECIFICS of our bet but I'm pretty sure it had something to with how HOODIA IS THE NEW CIGARETTES. Uncle Petey put 200 bones in cash down on the table at Tokyo but I told him to shove it. Not because I wouldn't love to have 200 extra dollars to blow on fake designer shit in New York City next week. I declined the cash because Uncle Petey is almost 3 times my age and I didn't want Tokyo Trevor to think I was a hooker. When Uncle Petey bounced (after we danced HARDER THAN THAT SMALL GIRL WHO WORKS AT OLD GOLD, THE ONE THAT DANCES SUPER CRAZY LIKE IT’S GOING OUT OF STYLE NOT THAT I THINK SHE'S CRAZY, I DON'T EVEN REALLY KNOW HER, ALTHOUGH I TRIED TO TELL HER I HAD A CRUSH ON HER NO LESS THAN THREE TIMES IN JULY BUT SHE DIDN'T SEEM TO GIVE A FLYING FUCK!), Tokyo Trevor promptly asked if that had been my dad that I was raving with. Mission accomplished. Uncle Petey is not my dad and I am not a prostitute. Tokyo Trevor went to get me a water, said I’d thank him later and promptly hooked me up with a Jack & Coke. Cheeky fucker. Two sips did me in well and I dipped with saying bye to anyone. Thank you Uncle Petey for being totally generous and always hilarious.

I learned something important on CNN yesterday. Don’t name your kid Kitty Pilgrim or she’ll become a CNN newscaster and everyone will know you had a screw loose doing a crazy thing like naming your kid Kitty Pilgim. Kitty Pilgrim. It’s kind of a perfect pornstar name if you think about it long and hard.
Think about it. Long and hard. Long and hard. What's that? Cheap shot, you say? Whatever. It gave you an erection and that’s what I’m here for. Admit it. Sometimes late at night, when you’re lonely, you think about me. I think about you too. Sometimes in broad daylight. Sometimes 5, even 6 times a day… Too bad I’m a born-again virgin. We could have had a lot of fun in my heyday. And I’ve been doing a lot of yoga lately. Some might even say I’m flexible.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mX2ortWiFFw


Okay. You me and your Chloe glasses are going somewhere private so we can discuss fashion. Prada dress. Gucci bra. Filth-marked jeans? TAKE that off. Happy Thanksgiving Sexual Frustration. You’re good company. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Probably something lame like have lots of sex.





Happy Thanksgiving to Gardasil. Go get it girls or HPV will get YOU. Seriously, it’s a good idea. Like not doing crack. Doing crack? Bad idea. Not doing crack? Let's start with a 5-year plan. http://www.gardasil.com/


Next week, Jenna and I are going to visit Allison Grimaldi-Donahue in New York City. What up BROOKLYNNNNNNN!!!?!?! I. Can't. WAIT!


Last time I was in New York, I went to see GZA. The best part was how there were 2 eleven year olds standing on the stage hanging tough the whole time. One of them was apparently GZA's son. It was so funny to me that this kid's dad was in Wu-Tang and he was acting all "whatever". Your dad's in Wu-Tang and he's letting you posse up for a show in his hometown. Dude, that's awesome! SMILE! Harder! At the end, kid took the mic and went "WU! TANG! WU! TANG!", fist in the air like he DID care. He was no longer all "whatever". He was more like "What up BROOKLYNNNNNNN!!!?!?!" and I was pretty much all "Oh man, this totally rules".

That being said, the show was actually at B.B. King, which is closer to Times Square than Brooklyn is. Which brings me to the bonus question of the day...WHERE BROOKLYN AT? You hear all this talk about Brooklyn. But WHO really knows where it is? I mean, really...on the six?? One thing's for sure. This time, I am buying me some sick vintage instead of getting worried about spending money and coming home with an I HEART ENN WHY shirt and a bad attitude.


[SIDENOTE: Did anybody ever notice that my initials are N.Y.? This goes out to my future husband and/or love of my life, who must declare his love for me via a t-shirt before doing so vocally. Because professing one's undying love via a t-shirt would take real balls. And it seems most boys these days don't have any. Except for Dan and Ben Barna. They'll take off their shirts in the club, eventhough they have hairy backs. They have the Jewish form of balls. It goes by the name of CHUTZPAH. And it's worth a lot of money. Probably at LEAST 20 bones...]

























Anyway, New York City. What up Canal Street?! Fendi Spy bags in every colour of the rainbow! And a Gucci waistbelt for Hilary. FINALLY.



















GZA. Liquid Swords. Liquid Swords ruling. Video of some guy listening to Liquid Swords while eating tortilla chips, covered in milk, from a bowl, with a spoon. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JattZGDC2co
Okayyyyyyyy...it's not exciting in the least but it just goes to show that just because you're a guy with a sewing machine who wears flip-flops, doesn't mean you're not heavy into Wu-Tang. There is some trippy shit going on in the mirror, somebody figure it out and explain it to me, please and thanks. In retrospect, this video is actually cooler than I thought. It contains many a cryptic message. First time I watched it, I totally didn't notice that the guy had a cat. Or a small dog. Well, he has a box to store a small pet...and it has a flashing red light on the top. Maybe he forgot to feed it and that's the reminder. Kind of like a Tamagotchi. Happy Thanksgiving Japan. I fucking love you and all that is your spawn. Even Tokyo nightclub on occasion.

























I came across the following by accident. Here's a depressed Misfits fan who thinks that she is nobody's favourite person. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qCcCEqD117U


If you can last until the 1:20 mark without your ears bleeding and/or your wrists becoming suspiciously slashed, she mentions Harry Potter, Lego temples, Zooey Deschanel, and Pokemon snap all in the same sentence. I don't know what Pokemon snap is but sesame snaps are incredible. And Pokemon is Japanese. So it must be alright, whatever it is.Depressed and British. Hmmm...she's totally hiding her teeth.


The point is, the Misfits are the new Che Guevara. At least in terms of mass-marketed t-shirts. I saw a 6 year old wearing a Misfits t-shirt last week. He was wearing army pants too. And he had a mohawk. I think he belonged to Angelina Jolie but who can really tell these days...

















Same diff? Oy. Kids these days!


And here's the rudest thing you'll ever see. NSFW. That means NOT SUITABLE FOR WORK. It's an acronym I learned from POPULAR blogs. Like Pink is the New Blog. And the Superficial. Suppresses urge to mention Perez Hilton. Accidentally on purpose mentions Perez Hilton anyway.


THE RUDEST THING YOU'LL EVER SEE: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9V0ij6zczfo

I love how the girl calls the elephant "dude". That takes chutzpah. He's a lot bigger than she is. And at least twice as heavy. Maybe even three times as heavy. Man that girl has balls. Well kids, you've had your Yiddish lesson of the day and now it's time for British. Balls in British is BOLLOCKS. Say it. Bollocks. Everybody. BOLLOCKS! It's fun to say, isn't it?! I didn't realize it was rude until 4 years ago when I was living in Scotland, looking after small children, eating fish and chips, seeing lots of sheep, getting very pale and basically trying to be as cool as possible by saying BOLLOCKS and "aye hen". The British dad thought it was funny that I said it but contrary to popular North American belief, it's not a term frequently used by 4 year olds. Not a big surprise, 4 year olds have balls the size of peanuts, so they might as well not have any balls at all so why should they learn a crazy word like bollocks? TO TAKE THE PISS AT YOUR SISTER YOU IMBECILE!


Without further delay, here's some British kid getting kicked in the junk at recess. Watch out for some really gross 14 year old tits. Mine haven't sagged yet and I'm 22. Lucky me. Poor her. Thanks Mom! SORRY FOR THE DELAY BUT YOU HAD TO BE WARNED: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IpPzlqlvYP4


The moral of the story is this. Chris Rock ranked Liquid Swords as #13 in his Top 25 Hip-Hop Albums ever. However, he once declared live that it is actually his #3.
























What do YOU think? What's your sign? Why are you even reading this? Why don't you leave me a comment sometime? You lazy motherfucker. How am I going to get my Québec residency if you don't show love? I guess the following will be an eternal fantasy of mine... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ipCHEX_OFAU


Whatever you guys, I QUIT.


Not really! Money is not a thang, remember? But my boy Jermaine Dupri meant it more like money is so not a big deal because I have so much of it that I can wipe my dick with 100 dollar bills after I pee (completely ridiculous and unnecessary) and make paper cranes out of 20s and sail them deep into the Mediterranean on their own private yachts. I mean money is not a thang, more like I don't have tons of cash to blow but I'm an excellent thrift shopper and I have friends and family that make me happier than dollar dollar bills ever will...y'all. Yup. I'm a corny motherfucker. Happy Thanksgiving to my friends and family. JAH BLESS YOU GUYS!


Nathaniel Heaney= such a solid dude.

He doesn't even know where the interweb IS so it will be a surprise when I get him some A&W ROOT BEER and BUTTERSCOTCH RIPPLE ICE CREAM so that he might make his favourite float, because he deserves it, especially since he recently conquered his lactose intolerance with a liquid sword called 2% fat and also because I ditched him tonight and I was supposed to initiate a conversation between him and this cute girl that may or may not work at Bifthèque on weekends. Because it's really funny, everyone should know that Nathaniel had late onset lactose intolerance that came about at the ripe old age of 21. And he got it from eating pints of ice cream for dinner. He thought, "Hey, I'm skinny and I like ice cream. My BMI is the shit. Party on, pass the Ben and Jerry's."






Katie Hermon= ultimate city gurl.
If it weren't for Katie, I might never watch Conan O'Brien and I would certainly never eat any peanut butter because I hate peanut butter, that's why I never buy it. If I bought peanut butter, it would just sit in the cupboard collecting dust and turning moldy. What a waste of money that would be. Katie, maybe I'll give Gossip Girl another chance. I love teens. They're so fucking level-headed. I just think that the books are way better than the TV show but then again, I only watched 20 minutes of it and then I got tired Afterall, it was 8:20pm.


Jenna Bond= cooled out to the max. So laid back she's horizontal. That's a line from one of my favourite books, The Rule of the Bone, by Russell Banks. Now I'm starting to doubt myself, I haven't read it in awhile...I thought it was fucking cool when Banks said "I knew it like the inside of my mouth" instead of saying something dumb like "the back of my hand". I just thought, man that is bang-on! I know the inside of my mouth WAY better than the back of my hand! Because I can make out with myself. And I do it. A LOT.

















ZOOM IN and behold the wonder of Jenna Bond's e-mail address, as created at age 15...
j_bond_hi925@hotmail.com

We hang out every day but we haven't smoked the pot together in, I'd say at least three years. Oh no, I forgot about that time when we both wore our Mom's Hudson Bay Inuit coats with the big furry hoods and got superstoned and I slept in Jenna Bond's bed IN MY MOM'S HUDSON BAY UNIUT COAT, hood up. I probably still had my Sorels on too. It was like a week ago. Man, I love sledding.


Caroliner Murphy= wise beyond her years.
We should probably never live together again but Caroliner always tells the truth even when it hurts and for that I love her dearly. She's also got some junk in the trunk, some might even say she's bootylicious. Everyone one agrees though, she's ferga-lish to the max.













Darcy Cooke= small but mighty.
We should probably never live together again but Darcy hooks me up with free food sometimes and for that I love him dearly. More than I love samosas, french fries, pizza, spinach calzones, biscotti, coffee and Baci chocolates. He also gave me this seafoam prom dress yesterday that is nothing short of incredible and a luscious blonde wig that reminds of that time I accidentally channelled Gwen Stefani and looked utterly trashy and fucked up my hair forever. As a sassy blonde, I had to wear make-up all the time and really cool clothes all the time. That lasted about 3 days. It was terribly exhausting. Darcy told me there was a dead hooker in his garbage but then it turned out to be some really fun fashion-forward fare. He said it was leftover from Drew's bachelor party last weekend but let's be honest, everybody knows that Darcy Cooke is a walk-in closet cross-dresser. What? You work for WESC? Yeah fucking right bro. More like the hoisery department at Holt Renfrew! He'll come to terms with who he really is eventually. Darcy Cooke is also unaware of the whereabouts of the world wide web. He and Nathaniel should start a club, especially considering they work next door to one another. Darcy Cooke is much more than the new face of MAC Viva Glam lipstick. You would not beLIEVE how little time this guy spends at the gym. Darcy Cooke prefers to work the runway. He's shorter in person, but not by much.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gh1m_-Vou08


Hilary Young= heeeeeere we go! The jam of the day is an eloquent mash-up of a classic from Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, The Message and the more recent, Where's Your Head At from the Basement Jaxx.. It's done by DJ Poshknucklz of Double Dutch Dumptruxxx fame and it's called Where's Your Cryptic Message At? If you've been listening hard, you've heard it. If not, maybe you're up in the next paragraph. If you reach the final sentence and haven't found your own personalized cryptic message, then do something to really annoy me or make me fall in love with you and you'll probably find it here next time. Poshknucklz and her boy Brett do an ill monthly at Tribeca in Halifax. I wish Poshknucklz could come to New York with Jenna and I next week because Poshknucklz is the centre of my universe...and New York is the centre of THE universe. So magical things could happen if we got them in the same room. Like so nice that they're nasty Dixie Chicks remixes featuring Amanda Blank. What's b-more?? Who knows?! But Poshknucklz is a really pretty DJ.
























Jenna Bond is cool too. Still.



















Before I forget, thank you to Sarah Allan for suggesting I blog me balls off. I thought it was kind of a nerdy idea. But I've accepted my fate. And it's pretty awesome actually, I'm having tons of fun. I AM a nerdy idea. Nobody has to know my glasses are faux. Shit...SARAH ALLAN'S GLASSES ARE ALSO FAUX! In addition, thank you Sarah Allan for the beautiful handmade postcard you sent me from your native Vancouver last week. You warmed my heart on a chilly day. She MADE me a postcard! On THICK cardboard! She thinks I am worth the cost of TWO STAMPS! That is love. Happy Thanksgiving Sarah Allan.

Her love is bigger than HIP-HOP.


Speaking of which, the 10 year anniversary of the first installment of the Soundbombing series is fast approaching. And nobody knows it but me. Nobody really cares. October 14th is the official date. Maybe Darina Novotny cares...I bet if she were in Montreal and not Vancouver she would come to my SOUNDBOMBING 10 YEAR ANNIVERSARY PRE-PRE-PRE GRAND OPENING PIZZA PARTY instead of clicking NOT ATTENDING before even figuring out what I'm talking about. I guess the rumours are true. HEADS AIN'T READY. What a bunch of losers.







HEADS AIN'T READY. What a bunch of losers.


[SIDENOTE FOR DARINA NOVOTNY: You should link up with my girl Sarah Allan. She's from Vancouver. She lives in Vancouver. She used to live here. She gave me all her hair products before she left so I don't really mind setting you guys up. She has this thing called Facebook. Heard of it? Used to be huge. Now it's like, a dying art. S-A-R-A-H. A-L-L-A-N. Find her. Wine her. Dine her. Or at least do body shots and go dancing. I'll warn you though, Darina Novotny. Good luck getting in Sarah Allan's pants. She's saving it for marriage. Big time. Good luck Darina Novotny. Happy Thanksgiving Darina Novotny.]


Happy Thanksgiving to “the 12 people that read my blog”. Thanks Brandon. You’re a nice guy. That’s the last time I plug YOUR shit.

PSYCH!

THIS is the last time I plug your shit. Hensforth. Slice. Thursdays. Le Sociale. Tuff Love. Rave on, I guess. Happy Thanksgiving Brandon Kashani eventhough you fucked up on Tuesday when you called me self-indulgent. I’m a tough cookie. I got over it fast. I think Brandon Kashani is just bitter because he has the same initials as Burger King and they always fuck up his order. What’s that Brandon Kashani? You’re OFFENDED? Tough love bro. T-O-U-G-H. Like how they say in spelling bees!

Tuff Love Thursdays at Le Sociale, be there or I’ll miss you.

I went last night with Nathaniel and the jams were tight even if the volume was a bit on the too high side and I didn’t know a soul. I told you I’d miss you if you weren’t there! I thought I saw the driver of this drug dealer that used to live above this place I used to work last summer but I wasn’t entirely sure of her name although I think it’s the name of a small town in Québec just outside of Ottawa. Where Les Fougères is…that’s this fancy restaurant that my superwaybackwhen ex-BF Matt Joyce works at. If you’re wondering, Matt’s not the guy that gutted me right after high school. I would never actually talk about that in any detail in public. And I’m not actually bitter about it because no one was really to blame and I came out of it as a licensed relationship therapist with a doctorate in psychosis.

I met Matt Joyce in cooking school in 2003 although it was later determined that we had actually smoked a joint together at this superdope rager Steph Gaty and I had in April 2001 when her parents were out of town. Last I heard, Matt Joyce had moved up to head pastry chef at Les Fougères. We used to make-out about once a year and toy with the idea of being in love with one another but not this year. Now he has a REAL girlfriend. One thing’s for sure, Matt’s the illest b-boy ever. He was Buknar (and still is) and I was Lady Buk. You know...like LADY BUG! It’s cute, I know. Matt Joyce is funny as fuck. They called him BIG 9 in high school. This was not a reference to his height in feet and inches. Sometimes I miss Matt Joyce but I don’t even mean it like that. What can I say, he made a mean canapé! Happy Thanksgiving to Matt Joyce and Matt Joyce’s parents, I always thought they were really nice. What the hell, Happy Thanksgiving to Matt Joyce’s steady girl too, I’m bet she’s not half bad. Hey Matt. Thanks for taking me to see Matrix Reloaded before I'd even seen the Matrix. That was fun, I guess.



















Oh I almost forgot. From one artist to another, a special gift for a lost old soul who left us for the T-Dot.















Hey D.L. ... Don’t have a cow, man. Not that you’d read trash like this anyways. I’m just getting back at you for that time 2 weeks ago when you acted like something resembling a PARTY GOD. It went a lot like this…

It’s Saturday night. Nicola Jane Young is walking home from Academy. She went to Graham’s Vagitron party and had a total blast. Everyone should go to Graham’s Vagitron parties. Cut to 3:18 am outside Coda Special Club. Nicola Jane Young sees D.L. Jones. Nicola says to D.L. Jones “Can I tell you how I feel about Coda Special Club?” D.L. Jones says “No.” without even looking at Nicola Jane Young. Nicola Jane Young projects an exasperated growl and starts to walk away. “But I still love you!”, D.L. Jones quips. Nicola Jane Young might have been drunk but she doesn’t forget. Fade to black.

Smooth move bud. This means WAR. I’ll make you wish you’d never even heard of b-more! Okay, not actual war. Let it be known that D.L. Jones is usually nice to me, but that was just bad P.R. and he won't let me say it to his face. But I’m probably just jealous. I’m actually doing D.L. Jones a favour. Press is press, n’est-ce pas? Happy Thanksgiving D.L. Jones, there’s hope for you yet.

END SCENE.

Mark’s THE SKY IS FROWNING mix is fun.

I heard a rumour that you can get it on the P_ _ R _R_S_U_ E website but I don’t know the address and I’ve never been there. So you’re going to have to crack the code or make friends with Mark James Murray if you want his fun mix. Or if there’s like, a zshare link, maybe he could give it to me and then I could put it on here. Then “the 12 people that read my blog” could go check it out. The same 12 people that don’t know who D.L. Jones is and certainly can’t crack the cryptic P _ _ R _ R _S_U_E code. Lord help them. Happy Thanksgiving Mark James Murray.


Wow. The best part is that I wrote a lot of this while unconcsciously listening to Pandemonium Jones’ Baltimore Snippets.

You, me and the P _ _ R _R _S_ U_E fam. Discobelle is not an underground club.

What do you mean who do I think I am? I am Nicola Jane Young! I write for NIGHTLIFE MAGAZINE. Under an ALIAS, you MORON.

Happy Thanksgiving Baltimore. You are closer to my heart than all the above implies. Goodnight Seattle.


BINGE!
BINGE!
BINGE!

Comatose. (Hilary's joke.)