Illustrator, tattoo artist and noise nerd Gary Stevens turned on the news on Saturday evening to discover his ex-girlfriend, Christine Burrage (who he knew back in the day as a teen goth who called herself Corpus Christie) had allegedly shot and murdered her current boyfriend, Damon Smooth, in a parking lot. We talked to him about her and in the process found out he lives in a miasmic hellhole where the sanest people around are deranged noise musicians. The whole thing is really sad, so we’re tempering the interview with a bit of Gary’s relatively cheery art. It’s kind of like the boy version of Lisa Frank, obsessed with cute little animals but mixing in boogers and creepy crawlies instead of hearts and rainbows.
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Archive for January, 2009
It happened: My ex-girlfriend just allegedly killed her current boyfriend
Masturbation styles
Last night I was informed how the old men pee. Oldies thrust the pelvis forward, and rest one hand on the hip, really masculine, self-satisfied, kinda like the way you would pee on the headless corpse of your victim. Like shoving your pee as far into the universe as you can hose it. I’m not certain, but I think Popeye pees like that. This lead to discussion on how the mentally retarded pee. They pull the underpants all the way down, stretched almost under the shoe and almost all the way off. Seems like a very enthusiastic way to pee, take it all down and yiiiiiipPEE!!!!! I like that. But I guess it looks weird under the stall door. This made me think. What about masturbation styles? Read more »
I am a magnet to the insane
Put me on a bus, in a supermarket queue, at a bar or behind a desk and lunatics will flock to me like rats.
This morning I was accosted on the way to work by an 80-year-old woman, dressed entirely in purple, who claimed to be the daughter of an Egyptian diplomat. I wasn’t totally convinced at first because she had painted her eyebrows on with a purple felt-tip and was carrying six overflowing plastic carrier bags of fur and biscuits. Read more »
Hello Obama, you killed emo
As two million people thronged Capitol Hill last week, each with a dewy tear gleaming in their eye and their hearts lodged firmly on their sleeves, the world bore witness to an incredible transformation: the death of emo as a subculture. See, now that Barry O’s inducted us into a new caring, sharing world of hope and belief and awesomeness, suddenly everyone is emo, everything is emo. Like Krishna-consciousness, emo is now in every blade of grass, every sparrow’s song.
So in celebration/commiseration of its subcultural demise we thought we’d look back on the most inherently emo ideas there were.
“Do” Gets Laid
Did we not call it when we said the future looked bright for wackadoodles?This DO got laid and was talked about on this blog where a real classy lady fucks the worst guys she can find. Nice little nihilistic project for your vagina there, toots. Too bad this guy’s one of the best. Apparently he jumps on the bed after sex, wanders around the apartment without his shirt on, and starts conversations with disinterested roommates. Applause to you and your uninhibited non-shits-giving behavior, sir.
Semen Sperms - Teen Angels
Simon “S.” Sperms just put together a huge gallery of pages from old issues of Teen Angel, this Cholita fanzine from early-80s LA. It’s basically what would have happened if you, as God, had taken Aaron Cometbus, turned him into several Mexican girls and commanded him to make his own version of Tiger Beat, but with light dustings of Outlaw Biker and F.E.D.S. We’ve spent the past few hours pondering how something as awesome and niche-oriented as this can exist for so long (it’s still in print!) without catching the eye of some vampiric corporate interest, and also how they were able to write in that latino-gothic script without turning their hands into withered vulture claws. Our best guess is they had stamps? Anyways, here’re some of our favorite pages…
Reviewing sex toys with Aidan Moffat
The Tenga Flip Hole, beautiful isn’t it?
Aidan Moffat has done many things, including being in one of my favourite bands. But, as with all of us, there are some experiences which have escaped him. Maybe they are too sordid, shitty or dull, but now, for Vice, he’s aiming to experience all those missed sensations of life’s gross tapestry. Why? Because ignorance is a good thing to lose. This week he begins with electronic male masturbation aides. Classy.
My Granddad’s knife collection
Not too long ago I was at my grandparents’ house, and while watching the usual Deal or No Deal/Countdown head burp, my granddad began talking about the amount of people getting themselves stabbed in sunny London. The conversation naturally veered off into World War II, and then the Gurkha knives that his brother had given to him. I kept prodding him to tell me more, and then my nan abruptly announced that she wanted them out of the house. My granddad leapt from his chair and headed upstairs. He was always such a gentle, loving soul, so I couldn’t believe what he brought down: a stockpile of old knives. That were still gelled with lots and lots of blood.
It Happened - The Drums Of Death
Remember a little while back some guy died in Dalston from exposure to anthrax? No not the band, this stuff. Fernando Gomez was the first guy to cop it in this country from anthrax poisoning in 32 years. Now, if you lived next door to a guy who’d killed himself by skinning drums filled with anthrax spores you’d be pretty freaked out right? Well Fernando’s neighbour got in touch with us and all things considered he seems pretty relaxed about the whole living next door to anthrax thing. Read more »
Ctrl.Alt.Shift Peoples’ Choice Award Winner
Ctrl.Alt.Shift and Vice’s Gender, Poverty and Power photographic competition challenged young photographers to submit their work to a panel of mentors, including Alex Sturrock, Alexa Chung, and Valerie Phillips. What we received was an overwhelming insight into both the state of human rights at home and abroad, and the extent of ever-emerging young artistic talent.
You Can Lead a Thirteen Year Old Boy to a Library, But You Can’t Make Him Think
I found this stunning feedback card at The Women’s Library yesterday. It would be depressing, except the mini-bigot who wrote it was so ugly, so lacking in testosterone, so virginal and so shameless in his hatred of women that you can be sure the bloodline will squarely end with him. And his swollen, hairless bollocks.
Smoke smoke barf. My favourite stupid diets
Growing up in Marin County, CA I was witness to what I like to think of as the freakiest examples of girls doing crazy shit to themselves to look good in Not A Girl Not Yet A Woman-era pube-hat jeans. Eating disorders are sad. But they’re also responsible for the funniest diets I’ve ever heard of.
Skins or News at Ten?
If your flatmates aren’t elderly and you were planning on watching News at Ten tonight to catch up on the latest body counts around the world, forget it. Chances are Gemma and Julie will have occupied the couch and will be sat in their yard garms spooning down Nutella from the jar waiting for the new series of Skins to start.
Dos and Dont’s
When your life's devolved into the accumulated detritus of year after year it's good to have a shirt that lets everyone know exactly what's up.
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Who knew someone from the opposite sex could be so totally fucking clueless? She looks like a drunk babysitter from 1982 but with a strange overlay of meth and homelessness. This is either the worst dressed woman we’ve ever had in the DON’Ts or a fucking genius that we’re about to marry.
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