You Practically Rock

Wherein I discuss how fashion forward I am, then contemplate my future
Cam whore.

Cam whore.

People often approach me on the street and ask me if I’m in a band. I suppose this is because when people see someone in a band they are dressed in super-trendy, avant guard haute cotour, this is probably what those same people who approach me on the street to ask me if I’m in a band are trying to say: I’m very fashion forward

Thinking back on it now I’ve always sort of had people assume I’m in a band, when I was growing up a kid in the suburbs I was often asked what the name of my boy band was – perhaps due to my spiky hair sticking out of my nike visor, whilst I wore an oversized jersey and baggy, low slung faded jeans.

I remember specifically after everything changed on 9/11 people thought that I was a member of Toby Keith’s backing band because of my penchant for wearing Defiant blues, blood-stained reds and patriotic whites. (all made of denim.)

But now, I’m thinking that I want something different, I want to become a ‘new person’ with a ‘varying style’ that no one ‘can really pin down it’s influence’ – like the Olsen twins or the guys from 98 Degrees.

I’m trying to find a new clothing style, should I follow in the footsteps of The Vampire Weekends and dress like a Wes Anderson character?

I actually adore this band.

In Truth: I actually adore this band.

Should I take steroids and spend a little too long in a tanning booth and accent everything with pink? Should I hide my thinning hair with a faux hawk? Should I practice Blue Steele all the time? Should I dig only songs that have enough bass that I can pump through my I-Roc Z/Probe/Mom’s Neon/Mom’s Sentra/Dad’s Miata

Most of my nightmare actually start at Mystic Tan

Most of my nightmare actually start at Mystic Tan

Should I become Punk Rock and get a full sleeve tatoo filled with meaningful symbols such as stars, starlings and a 1950s pin up model? Should I make sure to sneer at stuff and feel that everyone else is sheep, so I lose myself in cocaine and ecstacy because I want to ‘feel something that I’m not supposed to?*’

Should I wear American Apparel clothing even though it could possibly lead to a inopportune nut slip?

At a Girl Talk Concert would I have to use Tape to make sure my nut cleavage didn't fall out?

At a Girl Talk Concert would I have to use Tape to make sure my nut cleavage didn't fall out?

How do you explain your personal brand to your parents?

Can you remain 100% to your self by constantly changing who you are? Or is what you wear only your skin that you shed in order to be reborn as an adult

*actual quote.


Hurray For Christmas!
December 25, 2008, 12:45 am
Filed under: Ballsack, Love Making | Tags: ,

Christmas is pretty much the most special time of year. It’s the one time that people touch me without slapping cuffs on me or pushing me up against a cold wall in a dark alley and making me feel like the first couple minutes of a Law & Order SVU episode.

I’m really glad that I get to spend Christmas with my family this year as before they wouldn’t let me in because they ‘weren’t ready to forgive me.’ But this year since I passed my blood and urine tests and I’m specially monitored by a nice court-ordered Jewish fellow who doesn’t mind spending the day amongst – what he called –  ‘goys’ – I’m treated to awesome comments like: “Yes, it is quite cold” and “That’s great that you got rid of that horrible cyst removed from your eyelid.”

Merry Christmas friends of friends.

An Early Christmas Present From Me to You
December 22, 2008, 11:47 pm
Filed under: Ballsack | Tags: , ,

We’re in pretty heavy white-out country here, so curl up with the one you love, the one who’ll hold you close without judging you – and watch the ultra-violence that is Riki-Oh: The Story of Ricky.

Sometimes Revenge is the only way to keep warm.

Merry Christmas

Updated!!! with clip so you can realize just how awesome this movie is!

“At Night When All The Worlds Asleep” – The Super Tramps (so apropos)

Hey you guys,

I can’t sleep ’cause my mind is going a million miles an hour – maybe it’s because I was huffing glue and keyboard cleaner or maybe it’s ’cause I’m nervous about my big DJ gig this weekend.
Yeah, I decided that my band was a stupid idea ’cause no one will ever listen to an out of tune ukulele and a drum machine so I decided to be a DJ. I’ve asked a local Barrie bar if I could ‘spin some toons’ and they were all like: “Yeah, that’s fresh.”

I don’t have turn tables, but I do have an iMac and a downloaded copy of Girl Talk’s CD. I’m gonna spend a few hours on HYPE Machine downloading all the search results for ‘REMIX’ – It’s gonna be awesome y’all.

I’m opening for a bunch of dudes who used to go to my school, they’re all part time bouncers and full time ‘roid users. They’re pretty aggro but they play Jack Johnson music because they want people to know that even though they roid-out sometimes they’re totally chill and sit around strumming their acoustic guitars with their socks off and sing goofy songs about ‘lovin’ ladies who make them crazy‘ (actual lyrics – seriously you guys, these guys are soo talented, sometimes when they harmonize they hit these notes that make angels weep tears made from Unicorn sperm which as we know from Harry Potter is super rare.)

I think about Old Dirty Bastard everyday. Miss you. This makes me super depressed, sometimes I don’t know if life is worth living since Big Baby Jesus passed on to Jahova sometimes I feel like he was my poet laureate y’know? “I came out my mama’s pussy; I’m on welfare; 26 years old, still on welfare” Do they give out Posthumous nobel prizes?
He’s probably in Heaven giving Anna Nicole Smith the clap.. single tear old friend, possible father…

I’m starting to get the spins.

Will anyone come pick me up so I can go get a burrito? I’m seriously craving one bad.