POTM (archived)

i posted a new picture on the POTM tab, but wanted to make sure this picture doesn’t leave the imposium.  whether or not you’re calling the venue the fillmore east or irving plaza, it’s still the place that made the below possible:

the picture below was taken of raphael saadiq @ irving plaza on saturday, march twenty-first, two-thousand nine.

photo by mel cole for village slum.  performance by raphael saadiq for the human race.

side note: this will be the night i tell people i met ali shaheed muhammad.  which is true.  we shook hands and we each stated our names.  i have a feeling my memory of this meeting, however, will differ significantly from his, as mine will be remain a memory and his has likely been forgotten.  but still:

ali said: “pay for lunch.” so i did it.  pulled out the wallet and i saw this wicked beautiful lady.  she was a waitress there.  put the wallet down and stared and stared.  to put me back into reality here’s shaheed: “yo tip, man, got what you need?”  i checked for keys and started to step.  what do you know, my wallet i forget.  iiiiiiiii left my wallet in el segundo…

special thanks to rick, bill and daria for coming to say hey.

POTM (archived)

i posted a new picture on the POTM tab, but we, as a continually evolving race, should aim to never forget our collective shortcomings.  maybe this archived photo will help us keep one such shortcoming in our thoughts.

***

my friend marc and i often discuss the yankees. we’re both fans. big fans. we both feel the opposite way about alex rodriguez. unfortunately, he (a-rod, not marc) does play for the yankees, which means that we (marc and i, not a-rod and i) must root accordingly. because he’s awesome and generous – and because it’s all over the internet at present – marc sent me the following picture:

i think the most common thought is that a-rod appears to be kissing himself. the least common thought is that he’s investigating a face blemish. marc thinks it’s more like two a-rods (who would still, combined, be hitting below .200 in the playoffs) staring each other down before a prize-fight. think rocky and ivan drago, only a bit more indistinguishable.

i like these staredowns. they’re so dramatically staged. still, the fighters are so hopped up on adrenaline that it’s a miracle they don’t start throwing punches at each other. i’d like to pretend this picture is a staging of one such staredown. i hope one of those two morons throws a punch.

POTM (archived)

i posted a new picture on the POTM tab, but i couldn’t bring myself to delete this one.  Anything that can evoke such a nostalgic warmth AND an unshakable chill down my spine with such awesome mutual exclusivity deserves to remain documented.  forever.

***

if i had this actual magazine, it would be protected in a case that smells like china paradise and plays my favorite bruce springsteen song on repeat.

looking at this photo makes me feel the way i felt when my mom used to tuck me in at night: warm, comfy and in complete and utter disbelief that pat riley didn’t think to bench the man on a 2-18 shooting (1-11 in the fourth quarter) night in game seven of the NBA finals.

POTM (archived)

i posted a new picture on the POTM tab, but i never want this picture to go away.  ever.  chris holmes pencil sketch: live long and prosper.

***

this is the man kerrang! magazine doesn’t want you to know about.

this is the great chris holmes.  no, not THAT chris homes.  THIS chris holmes.  THAT chris holmes is a deejay.  THIS chris holmes can engineer a platinum record with a fisher price microphone and the A and E strings from a classical guitar.  he’s what macgyver would be if macgyver had access to protools and occasionally opened up links i sent him, despite four years of experience that should have tought him better.

he is not made of pencil, despite what german jen sees when she closes her eyes.

he also instant messaged me ten minutes ago to say: “peen is the new and.”