One of my favorite songs. I wonder why more bands don't cover it?

This video is unintentionally hilarious. Yeah, it's from the 80s, but it looks like "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" outtakes. Great bass line, minimal lyrics, crazy singer.

You'll have to sit through a short commercial b/c Youtube won't let you embed this particular video.

Edit: Nevermind. I can't embed any version of this stupid video, so now you will just have to click on the link. Sorry!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-cme2q0N7nM

My weekend

Hi! I haven't updated in a long time b/c my life is pretty much a non-event at this point. This weekend I had a cold. I also did a little shopping (for myself) but I asked for gift boxes so the checkout person wouldn't know the depths of my selfishness. Here are some tips to pass onto my loyal reader:

ColdCalm kicks butt. I got it at Whole Foods and it's annoying b/c you have to dissolve it under your tongue every 10 minutes for two hours, and then take it once every hour after that. But, the stuff actually worked! I think the germs just got sick (get it!?) of dealing with the dissolved yucky pills and they hightailed it out of my sinuses. Definitely try it, even if you're not into homeopathic quackery.

I also picked up some Frederic Fekkai curl creme b/c the Bumble & Bumble Beach Spray made my hair crunchy and I felt like I was back in the fifth grade, getting perms at the mall's hair salon (conveniently located across from the arcade so that all of the mallrats could see me with my hair up in rollers). Anyway, this stuff doesn't work that well, but at least my hair isn't salty.

I am also excited b/c I really wanted a Missoni scarf, b/c it's very cold in South Florida. But, seeing as how they only make gigantic scarves, and I tend to lose things like gloves and hats, I found a nice knockoff at Anthropologie which was exactly what I wanted. I guess I should take a picture of it, but I'm too lazy. Maybe later.

Then, on my way home from shopping and Whole Foods, what should have been a 3-minute car ride turned into an hour-long quest to find an open bridge. I live on a barrier island, and this weekend they held the Holiday Boat Parade, which is when a bunch of fat old rich men put lights on their yachts and find a bunch of skanks who've raided Victoria's Secrets' Holiday Whorewear and they sail around waving to a bunch of drunk people standing on the shore who don't own boats.

I drove around to three different bridges, with a fever, arriving just in time for them to put the gates down and the bridges up. Drawbridges are quaint and stupid!

Now I am trying to come up with my first semester exam. I just want to nap.

*No photo credit was available, but it's from the Key West boat parade (found on key west hotspots).

Zeus Shoes

I think he would want these to be worn at the next Bikini High Heels party.

R.I.P. Frank Navetta

DESCENDENTS' founder/bassist passed away today. They were sensitive when it wasn't punk to be so. I should make some sort of Milo goes to funeral or Milo goes to cemetery reference, but it reminds me of the funeral I went to last Thursday. So I'll just put up a song about battling adulthood instead.

Happy Halloween!

When I was a kid, I loved watching this play on HBO about a bazillion times during October.

This is kinda fun.

Click on things more than once. Updated daily.

http://www.palinaspresident.us/

Why I Nightsurf

For those of you who wonder why someone would go to such great lengths to avoid a crowd, skip to the 2nd minute mark. *I am not liable for any cases of whiplash.*
It's like this every swell.

My Super Power Sucks

On my flight home from Atlanta (no, I didn't run into NeNe), I got to watch some of "Ironman" while peering through the seats to the guy infront of me's laptop. (Hello, awkward sentence.) I guess the movie was okay, even though I'm not much for special effects. It was probably my hangover, but I started to think about how my super power is that I run into people in really random locations all over the western hemisphere.

And it's not even that I travel that much. Or have millions of friends, either. But I did run into Lisa, one of my BFFs, on the beach in Jamaica. And then one time I was walking down the street in New York, having a conversation about a dreamboat, which my New York friend had just framed his modeling ad and put on her mantle, and ran right into said model. Then, while attending New York friend's Austin wedding, I ran into an ex from college at the Austin airport who was also in town for a wedding, but not the same one.

Of course, as I'm unfolding myself out of my middle aisle seat (thankfully not seated next to a straight-from-the-gym bodybuilder like on my previous flight), I hear someone call my name from the row behind me. It was an ex that I hadn't spoken to since he told me he decided to get back together with his high school sweetheart five years ago. Great! What's even more odd is that I really don't even have that many exes to be running into like this.

For some reason, he thought that I would want to catch up with him, and I was stuck conversing with him all the way to the baggage claim. Now this guy, we'll just call him Sam (stands for short angry man), was soooo, soooo, soooo boring. But I remember being proud of myself for dating him because he was neither an artist nor an unemployed mooch. He had a job and a house and was even a Republican.

We went out to dinner one night and he made a comment about how we need Mexicans around because "someone needs to mop the floors at night." After that I decided to get under his skin a little bit. I started asking him some questions about why his values and definition of success were the right ones. He got all fired up, but couldn't really tell me why achieving made him happy. Then we both went back to Ohio for Christmas, where I avoided him. The next time I saw him, he took me out for an awkward dinner and then told me that his new girlfriend was flying in the next day. (Yeah, I don't know why I went out with him again. Probably thought it was the mature thing to do.)

So anydickhead, I was a bit surprised when he wanted to catch up. I asked him if he was still a Republican and he asked if I was voting for McCain. Strained laughter on my part. He follows by asking me for my number?? I really didn't feel like hashing things out infront of all of the tourists, so I gave him the digits, wishing I had splurged for a seat upgrade. Wishing for Ironman boosters on my shoes. Wishing for invisible powers instead.

Socialicious

"McCain Pledges to End Socialist Programs Like the Fire Department."

http://www.236.com/blog/w/lee_camp/mccain_pledges_to_end_socialis_9684.php




Can't get this to show up any larger. Sowwy.

Monday Funny

Redneck Nation

This clip is about Bill Maher's new movie. It's pretty funny, but what struck a chord with me was his comment about how we're a nation of progressive "elitists" and stupid rednecks. I'd kind of thought this was a problem unique to Florida, but I guess it's more widespread. My neighborhood (hey, it's close to the beach!) is also referred to as the last redneck stronghold of the South. Half gayborhood, half abandoned cars and hot water heaters, I ended up picking the end of the street that has transformed into a redneck paradise. And by paradise I mean hell.

Anyway, my neighbors are nice, but their penchant for remote controlled cars (an adult past time) and airbrushed tailgate murals both puzzles and fascinates me. Joe six-pack, indeed. I'll lay off Palin, but I really don't understand how people could want someone like that to have any political influcence. My friend made a comment that the rednecks are happy to finally have a voice, and perhaps some power through her candidacy. Now I am all for empowering the world's disenfranchised and marginalized, but I am just not ready to have another aw shuckster further fouling things up.

(People love to hear about my neighbors, so I plan on adding some stories soon.)

Dearth and Taxes

I had a friend who hadn't seen this.

It's been raining all day

So I've been catching up on some reading. I found this article interesting and many of the comments gave me pause. Being around those from Palm Beach constantly reminds me of my place in the world. I think many of us struggle with questions of making a difference or making a living.

http://warner.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/10/02/waiting-for-schadenfreude/

Apple Pies and Such

I can't stay up late enough to watch Jon Stewart, but here are two funny clips. Not that they should be funny. I've also included an Op-Ed from Time, for those of you who don't have an MBA from Harvard. http://www.time.com/time/business/article/0,8599,1845209,00.html?cnn=yes

Clusterf#@k to the Poorhouse:


That joke (W) isn't funny anymore?

Everyone's Favorite Anti-Hero

I watched this movie so much as a youngster that I think it kind of warped my expectations. No man will ever be this cool.

Perspective

I haven't been surfing very well lately. This video ended my pity party.

http://www.vimeo.com/1804186

I hate Henry Rollins

Not because he singlehandedly brought about the demise of Black Flag (he didn't, check out the fantastic Our Band Could Be Your Life for the full scoop), or that he turned into a huge meathead who only wears tight black t-shirts, or that he tries to get his point across by shouting. I think it's because he agreed to host MTV Sports back in the early 90s. I won't even get into his literary pursuits.

Anyway, he looks hot when he's dressed as a cop, so there's that. And then there's this little McCain gem:

Coughlin's law: never show surprise, never lose your cool.

The best part comes at 2:37. This guy is a superstar.


Zombie Cocktail Drink Recipe - For more of the funniest videos, click here

Vintage Hot Water Music

Saw this on youtube and had to put it up. Wow.

I Knew to Lie

I remember my first pair of hot shoes. When I was 8, I bought a pair of 3-inch heels from a garage sale for $2. They were strappy black and gold stiletto sandals. My mom saw them, freaked, pictured my future life of prostitution, and asked me how much they were. Instinctively I knew to lie and say that they only cost $0.50. She warned that I would break my leg. (Totally unfounded!) I did cartwheels in them to spite her. And I was fine.

What the F*@k, Chuck?

(photo from darkbluedarkblue's flickr)

Remember your first pair of Chucks? It was so hard NOT to doodle on the white toes, they were such a perfect canvas to help pass the time while your 4th grade teacher explained photosynthesis. I noticed today that Chucks were still en vogue with my high schoolers, and the doodle compulsion is reassuringly alive and well.

Looking at all of the shoes made me fondly remember my pink Chuck Taylors that I got for my tenth birthday. They were hot shoes, even if my feet were bigger than all of the boys' feet. And the teacher's. But then I shuddered as I realized that those were not, in fact, my first pair of Chucks. Oh no. I had my first pair when I was six. What? Really? I must have been punk as f*@k from an early age, right? Or maybe my parents were just really cool? Cheap is more like it. And heartless.

You see, I was in the ER every weekend as a youngster. I fell down a lot and broke a couple bones, had a few lacerations, got some stitches every now and then. I was on a first-name basis with the triage nurse. Anyway, when I was six I'd spent all winter in a full-leg cast after I broke my leg while sledding. After I got that cast removed I broke it again in a freak rollerskating accident. So I spent most of the summer in another full-leg cast.

One day I went to the doctor and he fit me with a waterproof brace that made it look like I had a prosthetic leg, so that I could go in the ocean that summer. I loved looking like I had a fake leg for some reason. Then my mom decided that I couldn't walk around with a lone bare foot, so off to Payless we went. And I believe that's when the seeds of a shoe fetish were planted.

At Payless the only shoes that fit over my brace were the black lowcut Chucks.
SIZE 12E MENS. And I was six. And female. I sobbed as the clerk went to put them in a plastic bag. "Oh no, we'll wear one of those out of the store," my mom said. The clerk looked around for Wilt Chamberlain to pop out, and shrugged as she handed one of the monstrosities over. I cried for days, pissed at the world because my lavendar unicorn skirt did not go with my ugly black MEN'S sneaker.

Yaaaay! Waves!

From one of my most favoritest spots. I used to be able to surf that spot with just a few friends. Oh well, let's hope there are some new sandbars for the winter!

More Cheddar

I absolutely love this photo. I think it's from 4 or 5 years ago, when we were on our way to Ladies' Night, and Kris was ticked because we made him wear formal attire. He kept complaining all night about how uncomfortable he was in his "monkey suit." After hitting the bars we all decided to go nightsurfing. This comedy of errors was captured on Kris's polaroid camera, and I don't know where those pictures went, but I do know that our inebriated state caused us to lose either the camera, the pictures, or both, on the beach that night.

What's even funnier is that picture is still hanging on my wall (please people, I got over my crush on him eons ago), as it was one of the few pics that fit in this frame. I am sure that Kris was a little bugged out when he came to visit this winter, and he and all of his friends saw a framed picture of him up on my wall.

The boy in the peach T&C tank top...

Is just one of the ways I'll always picture Kristopher Cheddar-Zeus-James Zuccato. I met Kris when I was 11 at a teen dance. The fact that he was both an older man (13) and didn't seem to have a curfew made him devastatingly cool in my book. His friend Shaun had told him that a girl liked him, so I'm guessing that when he saw my thick glasses, bad perm, and flat chest he was less than enthused. But, because Kris was the nicest guy in the world, he danced with me to Milli Vanilli's "Girl I'm Gonna Miss You," and it made my summer. Probably my adolescence.

My crush on Kris necessitated a code name, and his code name became "Cheddar" thanks to some heinous Eagle brand snack mix consumed during a discussion about how all of my friends had seen my neighbor's unit. (They were sketching it out on a legal pad since I'd somehow not managed to look up his boardshorts that day.) Kris also had the more illustrious nickname of "Zeus" explanation here, but as cool as that nickname is, I love thinking of the giggles that went into making Cheddar.

Kris had great taste in music, and if he'd never introduced me to Minor Threat, I don't know how I would have ended up. I've been listening to a lot of old Hot Water Music songs, because they're another band that helped me to make sense of life's, well, shittiness. One song in particular that has really helped me is "Manual." Google led me to a page that states:

"Manual" is a farewell song for our brother and great inspiration, David Williamson, who is known to split at any given time, on foot or otherwise, in search for a better way. His integrity and true free spirit helps show us what is living is all about. His generosity and benevolence radiates the fact that there is more to this world than greed and hostility. Just as his companionship and loyalty remind us of our family outside of blood. We still bid him farewell. As we patiently await his returns.

-from "Live at the Hardback"

I don't know David, but Hot Water Music see their friend in a way that everyone saw Kris, and their tribute says things that I'm not able to. I thought that today would be a good day to write this, since I made it through the whole day without crying. But now I'm a little sad so I'm going to end this post and put up some pictures.

Republican Hypocrisy

Courtesy of Jon Stewart.

Pretty Pictures

For those of you who need a pick-me-up, this site might make you feel a little better. It's a friend of a friend who just started taking pictures, and I think a lot of them are muy bueno.

Bye.

It's probably trite or cliché to blog about this, but I can't think of anything else to do. The day started off so well, the sun was shining for the first time in forever, and I surfed for the first time in three weeks. Hadn't surfed since my last night in Jersey, with my friend Kris. I was going to call him to tell him how fun the waves were, since we kind of have this Jerz/Floriduh the-waves-are-better-here pissing contest going on. But I didn't.

He passed away today and I am just numb. There are so many things that I think I should write, but I can't. He texted me a video yesterday, I hadn't tried to open it until after I heard the news. It's a random clip, two guys that he worked with goofing off in the deli, but you can hear his laugh as he's filming it. And he's cracking me up right now in spite of everything.

LOL Bush

Taken from this website which has some more funny pics from Bush's vacay, you'll have to cut and paste b/c I can't get the hyperlink to work. Sowwy. http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/gallery/2008/aug/12/bushlol

Why you don't kite surf during tropical storms.

Kite surfers suck in general. Ninety-five percent of them don't know what they're doing, and their kites and miles of lines usually land a little too close to me when they end up blowing one of their spastic airs. Here's someone trying to be cool who instead ends up in critical condition

One day down, 179 more to go.

Today was the first day of school. It was pretty fun because it was during a tropical storm and lightning struck one of the buildings so there wasn't any A/C or light in some of the rooms. The bells and intercom also stopped working, and one class was kept for an extra hour because they couldn't let them walk in between buildings b/c of the lightning. So fun!

At least school is canceled tomorrow. But I doubt that the waves will be good b/c of the wind speed/direction. At least I can sleep in past 5:30.

The ex was nice enough to paint a mural on my classroom wall so that I can sort of pretend I'm at the beach. I'm hesitant to admit to any co-workers that I surf b/c then people start yelling "Cowabunga!" every time they see me--not to mention that on the rare occasion I miss work they assume I was surfing.

The kids are pretty cool and no one seems to care about which books I teach.

It's a water feature, not a pool.

I'm digging the rosary, dog tag combo...

Obviously there is a LOT to hate about "Date My Ex." Not that there's anything wrong w/ being an opportunistic whore. And then there's Jo. I love how she's talentlessly strumming a guitar every so often, just so you know she's an artist. Off the top of my head, here are some things that I hate about this show:

1) Tam O'Shanters. Why?
2) The blonde BFF's bangs that are inexplicably plastered to her forehead.
3) SMET.
4) The Lance Armstrong clone that can't stop using his Pageant Smile.
5) "Spontanewity is so important." - Old guy who recognized the Pretty Woman parallels.

It's so cool not to watch t.v.

I can't stand people who talk about how t.v. rots your brain. How they're so above it all because they don't watch The Soup. Yeah, try a little harder there Hippy McHipster. I've always had a problem with either overdoing it, or getting a sense of pleasure from self-deprivation. In true dramazon fashion, I had a roommate who worked for a cable company and got every channel, every pay per view, everything-for free. Needless to say, I waaay overdid it that summer. So when I got my own place I went a year without t.v No dvd's either. No internet. I decided I would get a lot of reading done and be super-productive. Full-on Unabomber style, minus the manifesto.

After the year was up, I got cable back and realized how relaxing t.v. was. It allowed me to tune out, which is a good thing for a bad sleeper. Reading before bed just got me all worked up, plus the neverending silence was a bit much. Welcome back, basic cable!

So, I put my cable on hold for the summer and haven't made the call to get it turned back on. My internet card isn't working right either, so I rented some Arrested Development dvd's and that's what I've been watching. And now I can't stop talking like Will Arnett. I would post a video of Gob trying to get his Segway up a hill, but can't get the damn computer to work. So google "Gob Hulu Segway" to find the full episode of "Staff Infection."

Thoughts on secondary teaching

So I took a job as a high school teacher, and there are these cool things you get to do before you start teaching. Like paying $84 for the privelege of being fingerprinted. And that didn't go so well since my hands sweat when I know someone will be touching them. Escpecially when it's a cop. As my fingers were sliding all over the screen, I wondered if I'd have to pay for the repairs, too.

The cop murmured something about me using a lot of lotion, I wholeheartedly agreed, anything to keep him from knowing it was sweat. I'm sweating just thinking about it. He made me dry off w/ a paper towel. No dice. Then it was the hand sanitizer. A bit better. As he's holding my hand, waiting for the computer to accept my whorled blobs, he's trying to use his fingers to dry off my fingers. Awkward.

Then, after finding out that my transcripts had been sent to the wrong department and were subsequently scanned and shredded, I finally left to find that I'd parked in the Asst. Superintendent's parking spot. Wow, was she pissed.

The next day we had unpaid training (yay!), it was pretty unremarkable save for the superintendent saying equating our district's "mean streets" and rampant poverty with its 60% minority rate. He kept saying "no wonder we have (insert negative), there is a 60% minority rate."

I hope I don't have to read Harry Potter.

Gay men love the way my Pucci smells

Ever since I was told that my perfume (the decidedly girlish Flowerbomb) smelled like a nice men's cologne, I figured it was time for a new scent. So I'm hanging out at a department store, just staring at the literal wallflowers, when the manager asked me what kind of perfume I wore. I told him the kinds of smellies that I liked and he said, "I have something that smells weird-you should try it!" Weird? Not mysterious? Or sexy? I'm in.

He sprayed some Pucci Vivara on one wrist and some Missoni Acqua on the other and told me to wait ten minutes for the Pucci to set and then to smell it. So I walk around the mall for a bit, snorting my wrists, and wander into a Starbucks (the mall has THREE of them, and two of them were supposed to close), where I stopped to try one of their new mango banana smoothies. I walk in and the barista (baristo?) says, "Your perfume is intoxicating." I make him smell each wrist and he said that the Pucci was definitely better. Acqua was starting to smell like cactus to me.

So now I have this cool jellyfish bottle and a scent that drives some men crazy.

Gag me

Look like a huge tool for only $150!!!

I don't know how to write anymore

So it's Saturday night and I am at home blogging. Awesome. Actually, I went out last night and decided that I can't really go out 2 nights in a row. So I'm not a loser. I swear.

I guess I started this blog because I feel like I've spent so much time writing academic papers that I lost my voice. Now that I've finished my thesis, I want to go back to writing interesting stuff. Initially, I started my thesis with the notion that it would be an academic paper written in an unpretentious, fun-to-read (relatively speaking), op-ed style. I worked on varied sentence length. I used lots of fragments for effect. Got a little carried away with semi colons. I understood that a thesis was supposed to show a mastery of an area and should be presented in a manner that showcases scholarly authority, but I thought I could do it in a different way.

My committee was not impressed. Several thousand rewrites later, I surrendered my creative vision and caved to their demands for a more scholarly tone. They were right, of course, but I'm still pissed. Academics need to make up their own esoteric jargon just so they can feel important when no one else knows what the hell they're talking about. I don't like using language in a way that alienates my audience. For this reason, I deliberately avoided using words like "hegemony", "underpinnings", and fucking "paradigm." Eventually, I had to use them b/c my conscious avoidance of those terms made me look like I was stupid and had a bad vocabulary. And the worst thing is that now I'm having a hard time shifting back to how I wrote before I wrote my thesis.

So I am here. A recovering pseudo-intellectual.

Check out this Dinosaur Jr. video that I never knew existed.


(Related to other posts b/c J. Mascis looks kind of Amish with a hat on.)

In case you don't want to scroll through the comments, here is a good one:

just noticed that the dude with the black hair in the house is the guy in 'Superbad' who starts the fight at the party! he has the GF with the period blood stain. -toecutterr6

My favorite:

J. smiles at 1:57 -flamethrower211

Death Cab for Cutie "Cath" video

Death Cab's new album is excellent. Everyone should get it.

I saw this video today and noticed that they essentially remade Mariah Carey's "We Belong Together" video, but it's the artsy indie version. (Don't knock that Mariah song. It's one of the best torch songs ever written and I am embarrassed to say that it is always on my Ipod top-played list. There just aren't anymore torch songs being written these days. Sad. Props for namechecking Bobby Womack, Mariah! And don't forget that this video singlehandedly relaunched Eric Roberts' 'career.')

As you can see, many parallels can be drawn to the Mariah video:

First off, we have the dashing suitor crashing the wedding. For obvious reasons, the doe-eyed boy from that Amish (no I'm not obsessed) movie Witness was cast as the indie Wentworth Miller.

Instead of rolling around diva-style on a bed or in the shower, DCFC sing the song while sitting on astroturf. Gibbard earns bonus points for his greasy hair and ironic pedophile glasses.

The priest in the Mariah video is better b/c it's the speedo-wearing football player from Blue Crush.

Anyway, same story lines. Ex-lover watches while his dream girl is saying her vows, she sees him and wonders if she's doing the right thing. Except that in the DCFC version, time stops (I was waiting for Zach Morris to pop out and start talking to me) and Cath makes out with the Amish boy, but then because shoegazers don't like happy endings, she rejects her angsty ex-flame, restarts time, and finishes her wedding.

And just because, here is a live version of the best song ever written about hickeys:

Things I love about summer

Houses on stilts.

Smell of the marsh at low tide.

The china cat that's been on this roof for as long as I can remember. Why?

Functional Kitsch

Chomsky on McSame

I wasn't sure about posting something political, but the I realized that I can do what I want! : )

NC: McCain is another example of very effective propaganda-creation imagery. I mean, suppose there was a Russian pilot who was bombing civilian targets in Afghanistan and was shot down and tortured by the American-run Islamic fanatic terrorists there. Would we say he's a war hero? Would we say he's an expert in strategic and security issues, because he was a bomber of civilian targets? We wouldn't. But this is the image that's been created of McCain. His heroism and his expertise and strategy are based on the fact that he was bombing people from 30,000 feet and he was shot down. It's not nice that he was tortured, it shouldn't have happened, it was a crime, and so on. But that doesn't make him a war hero or a specialist in foreign policy. That's all a public relations creation. The public relations industry is a huge industry, very sophisticated. Probably something like a sixth of the gross domestic product goes into marketing, advertising, and so on, and that's a core element of society. It's the way you keep people separated from one another, subdued, and focused on something else. And this is explicit and, as I say, it's all discussed in public relations propaganda.

http://www.zcommunications.org/znet/viewArticle/18257

Granted, Obama has p.r. people in his corner, but their manifestations are way cooler. Typical Chomsky, you know he knows the exact statistical beakdown of our GDP. He's so darn cute.

I heart sea oats and tiny houses

Jedediah Don't Surf

The Amish were at the end of my street. They vacation here (NJ) every year. I had to act like I was taking pictures of the waves, and there was a van with a driver just sitting there idling the whole time, and I think it was their ride! I wanted to call the no-idle police, but then I thought about the person who was stuck inside a van all day waiting to drive a bunch of Amish people back to Lancaster, and I let it go.

Zippers are forbidden but swim noodles are not?

Coffee Book Ideas

I thought of one yesterday: A book full of profiles of guys who've been dumped by their girlfriends, who then read The Secret and update their Myspace profile accordingly. It's quite a phenomenon and it's hilarious when you come across the online carnage. I would post some of my favorites, but it's just too pathetic.

Another book idea I had occurred after a hurricane (I lost track of the names a long time ago) while I was looking at some of the damage. Feeling rather cranky after going weeks without A/C during a heat wave, I noticed that a steeple had broken off and was stabbing the roof of a church. I thought about all of the Time magazine photo of the year entries that always show some poor rural town completely decimated save (I have a problem with puns) its one church which stands unscathed. (Never mind that money spent building a structually sound church may have been better used to safeguard the congregation's homes.)

Anyway, I thought, why not make a coffee table dedicated to lampooning those types of images? The church crushed by its own steeple would have made a great cover. I'm not sure who would fund this type of book, who would buy it other than Marilyn Manson, or who would even agree to sell it. But I still think it's a great idea. I would title it Salvation My Ass.

New Bikini (That Only Steve-O Could Love)

I have lots of bikinis, but it's justifiable because I'm lucky enough to wear them almost every day. Here are my newest bottoms. That's the back of the suit (obviously they were bought online w/o being tried on). I don't think I'll be surfing in them.

If anyone wants to find the best surfing bikinis, I would suggest Brazilian designer Luli Fama--the suits are pricey but last forever. If you get the full coverage bottoms of any suit, they only fill up with water and you look like you shat yourself. So, the skimpier (viva Brazil, or however you say "viva" in Portugese) the better. I like Fama's 'kinis because they aren't skimpy in the front, so you don't have to sorry about flashing anyone while you're sitting on your board. I would also suggest getting ones that tie on the side so that you can cinch those babies until your circulation is cut off. Nothing is more annoying than wasting a good wave b/c your suit is creeping down your dupa.