More than anyone we know, the illustrator Ted Pearce loves scouring charity
shops and eBay for horrible jumpers that people have died in. When he’s
poncing around at gallery openings as a Team Mega Mix DJ, Ted will, without
fail, be sporting a piece from his massive collection of garish knitwear.
Here we quiz him about his obsession…
Cut Off Your Hands are an energetic young band from New Zealand who are currently stationed in the UK. We know that’s a long way away and you might be suffering from something akin to an abandonment issue, so to make good, the guys at Speak n Spell Records have some free downloads for you. Go here to get Cut Off Your Hands covering The Buzzcocks, The Sonics and Split Enz - for free! Doesn’t get much more choice than that ey bro?
Over the past few months, people have been carefully crossing off Baltimore and grime from the list of what they’re "feeling" and replacing it with bassline. Suddenly every blogger in North America claims they’ve been into bassline since they got a test pressing of "Bullacake" in 2005. So, just for you guys we are giving away some copies of DJ Cameo’s new bassline mix, the imaginatively titled DJ Cameo Presents Bassline Vol. 1. Just answer these elementary questions to win…
In case you missed last week’s innaugural edition, this is a new Friday feature on the blog where different Vice writers revisit the life-destroying film moments of their youth through the mystical healing powers of watching them again really stoned. We like to think of it as primal therapy meets trying to objectively determine whether or not you were lame as a kid meets watching movies really stoned. Today’s subject (which received a mention in the last one’s comments that helped jog our contributor’s memory) is Anjelica Huston’s character from that adaptation of Roald Dahl’s The Witches they made back in the 90s.
Inmate personal ads are typically a depressing cavalcade of barely suppressed rape urges, poor spelling, and a pronounced lack of extended metaphors. But believe it or not, every once in a blue moon you can actually strike diamond, like Adrian "Smiley" Jones here. If being one genuine class-act of a fellow is a crime, then that is our guess as to what he’s locked up for (that or agg. assault against someone who "made a game of his time"). Set your calendars, ladies.
We know how much you loved the NFL Playoffs posts! So we’re back with more sports, easing you into next week’s Kentucky Derby, very slowly. We won’t even talk horses yet. We’re not there. The field this year is wide open. It’s a shithead’s game this year. And that’s great news.
Note to all 17-year-old virgins: pretending to be engrossed in an important-looking book in public will not get you noshed off. I imagine being able to read probably was enough to get you laid back in the 14th century. I bet it still is in the Third World. (All I’m saying is, if you went to Namibia and sat on a park bench and read a business studies manual, you’d get a hand-job out of it.) But not over here. Not now.
NY indie-pop hopefuls The Virgins are playing The Old Blue Last tomorrow night (April 26).
Get a taste of what’s to come by watching the Practice Space we did with them a little while back. It’s the band’s first time in the UK and it’s free to get in, so it should get pretty lively. See you there.
Yes, we all know, stories about penis thievery and ensuing mass hysteria in Africa are a dime a dozen. This one, however, caught our attention by virtue of its closing quote from Congolese phone-credit salesman and koro witness Alain Kalala: "It’s real. Just yesterday here, there was a man who was a victim. We saw. What was left was tiny." That’s what we call local color. Picture of Knoxville HC legends KoRo courtesy of google image search.
I was in a cab down by Fulton Mall when this van cut us off. Who knew the black preacher community was so into MDC?
Sincerely,
MORRIS OSBALD
Thank you, Morris, that is all the incentive we need to blare this at our desks for the rest of the day. you’regoinghomeyourmind isblownyouspillyourrace youtryyourcaseyou’re shotdownonafence, shotinself-defense…
If you read our Australian blog a) sorry, you’ve already seen this, but b) you may remember that a week or so back two members of the Aussie editorial team vanished into the Tasmanian wilderness (which, as we understand it, is sort of like the Southern Hemisphere equivalent of heading to Alaska, if Alaska were the northern equivalent of Florida) and returned all crusty-eyed and untalkative. Well, it turns out they also brought back some Tasmaniacal souvenirs. Click below for a sampling of the Vaginal Isle’s fineries.
It just isn't a night in Ibiza until Teddy's made the rounds.
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Not to get all history's mysteries today, but did you know the Soviet Army commissioned their own Sid in the late 70s? Unfortunately nobody thought to convert the heroin from English- to Russian-junkie measures and the project went bankrupt in less than a month.
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