A Lesson in Fairness

Friends, some people get the short end of the stick. And so it goes.

A Poem

Q is for quips, witty or otherwise
U is for the understanding in your brother's eyes
E is for everything love is about
E is for echoes of whispers and shouts
F is for finally, life is restored!
S is for silently we strum our chord.




I'm drunk

Let's Talk About Hippies

Unless you are a deaf retard you have probably heard about the movie that Ang Lee is currently filming in New Lebanon, NY. If you are in fact a deaf retard then, uhhhh, sorry you got a raw deal, bro. Life is like a box of chocolates or whatever. The movie is called Taking Woodstock, and it's about hippies.

Here's Mr. Lee with a shiny piece of gold he no doubt stole.


Wikipedia summarizes the film's plot thusly:
"The film, based upon the book of the same name, follows the true life story of a closeted gay man hiding his orientation from his family, through the Stonewall Riots in New York City, which is seen by many as having started the modern Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender movement, through one of the defining counter-culture events of the generation. Aspiring Greenwich Village interior designer, Elliot Tiber's parents owned a small motel in Upstate New York and in 1969, Tiber held the only musical festival permit in the entire town of Bethel, New York, both of which Tiber offered to the Woodstock Festival's organizers."

BO-RING!

If I want to see/smell hippies I'll go to see a Ratdog cover band at Nectar's. But this brings us to an interesting point. There are, in fact, several kinds of hippies. Through a process similar to that proposed by Darwin in his theory of natural selection, all modern forms of hippies descended from one common ancestor, who almost certainly smelled terrible. Scientists have reconstructed this crude rendition of what the original hippie may have looked like:

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven ... A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace, bro." (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 8) He forgot the "turn, turn, turn" part.

This hippie of old has been replaced by several new, less tolerable forms.

This hippie's name is Trey, and he is a weemo.

Trey used to be in a band called Phish. They spelled it with a "ph" because the pH scale is used to test acidity, and they love acid. I just made that up, but it totally sounds believable, doesn't it?. They actually spelled it that way because, uhhh, who even cares. Phish is a terrible band and their phans are phucking inphuriating.

Another insufferable breed of hippie is this kind, the one that cares about important things.

These hippies try to change the world by protesting, but what they fail to realize is that by vocally appealing to the powers that be in an attempt to prompt change, they are in fact reaffirming the very power structures that they aim to dismantle and casting themselves as powerless. ZING!

These are the Weathermen. They enjoy wearing sunglasses and blowing themselves up.

There are not very many of them left.

So, now that Phish has broken up, protestors have been classified as terrorists, and the Weathermen have exploded their own brains, who is left to carry the hippie torch?

THIS GUY!

Sweet bush, Devendra. Natalie, I'd recommend getting checked for craberoos.

Beverly Hills 01240

I am watching Beverly Hills 90210 right now. I mean literally right now. I'm in the middle of the second episode, and Brandon Walsh is having who-can-be-more-of-a-tool contest with some surfin' bros on the beach. While I was typing that, Brandon won the contest. This episode is also notable for the introduction of badass leg-spreader Dylan McKay.


"I'm standing here because I'm sorry. I want to be your friend."
-Dylan McKay to Brandon Walsh, season 1 episode 2.

This show was way better before the whole cast was 40, which is how I remember it from middle school. Just now, Dylan broke the surf douche's surf board in half because he called Brandon "a real tool". Then this sweet electric guitar solo played while they showed a close-up of Luke Perry's fucking unbelievable face.

Fuck yes.

Also, check out how fucking HOTTT Tori Spelling is.

If the boner police show up, I'm gonna need a lawyer!

Gay Kitten Blowjobs

Rebecca T, member of the 413some family since its humble beginnings, is prominently featured on this week's episode of the Savage Lovecast telling a delightful story that your grandmother and your priest will surely enjoy heartily. If you're not familiar with Dan Savage and his weekly advice column I recommend that you get your fucking priorities in order.

To hear the clip that will no doubt be the most important thing Rebecca ever accomplishes in the world of sex advice podcasting, click here and download the podcast into iTunes. I respectfully draw your attention to minute 16:12. I am no longer able to look my cat in the eye. Too many "what ifs".

These People Are Not Real!

As a small child it can be difficult to separate fantasy from reality. I still have problems going upstairs in my house alone because, dammit, one of these days that dismembered corpse is gonna be up there. While a large portion of my earlier years was spent running from dinosaurs in the bushes and ceaselessly trying to catch that darn garden snake (that motherfucker is still on the lam), I also had the distinct pleasure of watching lots of television. My TV friends were no less real than my Hebrew School friends, and were a whole lot better looking. This is why it has literally taken me decades to heal the psychological scars that these fictional characters made on my young mind. Please bear with my while I air out my emotional dirty laundry.

1) Dear Winnie Cooper, FUCK YOU.

Thank you very much, Winnie Effing Cooper, for leading every boy my age to believe that somewhere out there is a soot-covered hippie girl who wants to make out with them on a rock in the woods after her brother gets killed in Vietnam. After having spent years hanging out with genuine hippie girls, and even making out with some of them in the woods, I can tell you that they a) do not really evoke the kind of preteen infatuation that has the force to drive the drama of an entire television series, and b) do not really call you "Kevin". You know why this is the case? It's because Winnie Cooper is a product of the frustrated imagination of some horny, lecherous TV producer who spent years pining away over some girl who refused to give him an HJ in the 6th grade.

This is Danica McKellar. She is real, and apparently a skankeroo. Unlike Winnie Cooper, Danica will be glad to give you that HJ.


2) Dear Ferris Bueller and Zack Morris, I cordially invite you to eat a dick.


When I was young we used to have something called "the 80s". It was a time before the internet, before iPhones, and before I realized that Ferris Bueller's Day Off wasn't a documentary. A few years later a little something called "the 90s" came along, and before I knew it I was hanging out with Zack Morris and the gang at The Max every day after school. This was the first time I ever met a black person.


"Guess what, preteen boy who's watching this. If you carelessly amble through life and shirk all your obligations while at the same time cooking up one cockamamie scheme after another, you will not only have naturally perfect hair but you will also become a babe magnet. And dammit, you'll one-up that meddling principal if it's the last thing you do.....before GRADUATION! WOOOO!"

Ok, Ferris and Zack may have never uttered these exact words, but this is the sentiment they conveyed to me. It is the second worst advice I ever received from the television (the first was to tattoo my own penis with charcoal and a sewing needle. Damn you, National Geographic Channel!) Remember how Ferris Bueller rigged his room with wires and a computer and shit to make it look like he was in bed rolling around and coughing when actually he was finger-blasting Sloan Peterson at a Chicago Bears game? Tried it. Doesn't work. And you know how when Zack looks at the camera and says "Hold it!" everyone else freezes? That doesn't work either. In fact, instead of freezing, everyone just looks where you're looking to try to figure out what the heck you're carrying on about. Usually it's a wall, and then they think you're weird. This is because Ferris and Zack are fake, and are actually actors who are now old and irrelevant. Here's what the real Ferris Bueller looks like when he's sitting next to an old man.

"Not that I condone fascism, or any -ism for that matter. Except jism."

3) Denver the Last Dinosaur

Turns out he was a cartoon the whole time. I guess he wasn't really "my friend and a whole lot more". Way to jerk off that pink guitar you fake piece of shit.

4) Same thing goes for you, Maid Marion.

You are a fake fucking fox slut who loves getting triple-teamed by Robin Hood, Little John, and Friar Tuck. I USED TO LOVE YOU AND YOU BETRAYED ME!

5) Kurt Loder = Redemption
Oh, Kurt. Out of the two Kurts who mattered to me in the early 90s, you were almost my favorite. Even though you were in your, jeez, I dunno, mid 50s I guess when everyone else at MTV was 23, you still taught me how to be a good man.

Sorry the years haven't treated you so well, bro. Also, sorry they don't put you on TV anymore. Kurt? Are you still alive? You were looking pretty rough around the edges back there in '92. Hope the retirement home at least has a VCR so you can watch old clips of yourself announcing Biggie's death while staring at your limp beef jerky penis trying so very hard to remember what it was like to get an erection. Maybe it'll help if you think of that time you nailed Serena Altschul at the '96 VMAs.

"Music iz gay" - Jeff Tweedy

So the other night Wilco, who are famous, played at Tanglewood. Here's a photo of them backstage talking to who I can only assume is a janitor.


Usually on nights of important Tanglewood concerts, downtown Lenox floods with, shall we say, the elderly and the incontinent. You can smell their Alzheimer's and soiled Depends from blocks away. They cannot smell anything. Trying to buy a bottle of whiskey at Nejaime's requires violently shoving your way through a sea of these spindly skin droopers. Fortunately it doesn't take much force to knock them off their center of gravity.

But before the Wilco concert, Lenox was full of people who look like this.


Notice their casual, unkempt hair styles, their propensity for flannel, and their voracious hunger for pizza. These people clearly like to PAR-TAY (smoke drugs).

At Tanglewood, I saw every person who I know. This one is Ian. His hobbies include leisure, getting tazed, and falling to the ground after getting tazed. He enjoys the music of Wilco and, from what I can tell from this photo, ice-cold Diet Sprite and talking on New York Telephones.


Aside from working on my popularity, I also spent some time listening to the band. They mostly played music. It was the best night of my life. Wilco, I just have one thing to say to you:

I Tanlgewoodn't Miss It For The World!

The very musical band Wilco is playing at Tanglewood tonight (Tuesday). Here is a picture of Jesus and a T Rex.

Let's Talk About Language

Haha! That's like READING about LITERATURE, or CRYING about SEX!!! Gosh, sometimes I just give meself a case of the chuckles.

Anywhoa, I often get the impression that my extensive and well-refined use of slang confuses some people. My first instinct was to stop hanging around with such R-tards, but then I realized that I have a golden opportunity to enlighten some, shall we say, stupider minds. So here is a helpful glossary of modern slang. I hope you find illuminating, Humphrey Brogart.

Baller (N) - A man of the highest social standing and of widely renowned poon-slaying skills.
Example - "Giovanni, you are truly a gentleman and a baller."

Crunk (V) - The past tense of "crown".
Example - "Prince George V was crunk king of England on the sixth of may, 1910."

Hyphee (ADJ) - Wild n' crazy. Derives from the Old English "Haufoos", meaning agitated by evil blood demons.
Example - "Enth dame Hippolyta gettyne hyphee upone miyne arse. 'Zounds!" (Chaucer)

Merk (V) - To kill, to defeat, to leave, to smoke. Really, merk can be used to mean any action that is approached with a thuggish attitude. Its versatility harkens back to the multipurpose use of the word "Smurf" on some cartoon. I forget which one.
Example: "I'm about to merk to that party as soon as I merk this L."

Narc (V) - To tattle on someone. The term's origins are found in the practice, common among coroners, of making romance both in and on the corpses left in their care, an act known as "Narcolepsy". Then, uh, someone would tell on them I guess.
Example: "NARC!"

Queef (V,N) - It means to fart out your V-hole. Huh huh.
Example: "Dude, your apartment smells like Red Bull and queef."

Splooge (N) - Peen drippins.
Example: "Dude, your apartment smells like Axe Body Spray and Splooge."

Take in this knowledge, friends. More slang definitions are to come.

Drunk Fish in a Small Pond (Pond of Beer)

Fans, my internet fame has finally been recognized by more traditional forms of media. This past week I was featured on the hallowed pages of the Berkshire Eagle, a fine source of news serving the Berkshires and surrounding areas since 1891. Would you like to see a grainy, colorless version of the photograph in question? How silly of me to ask. Here it is.

This is what I look like when the paparazzi is all up in my grill. It's cool, though. I know how to maintain.


In this photo I am being incredibly charming while talking to a babe. This low resolution image (thanks a lot, pranksters at berskhireeagle.com!) documents the time I went to Mission Bar and Tapas on North Street in beautiful Pittsfield. According the article featured in Berkshires Week, this hotspot features a "Spanish wine list of whites and reds, about five of each and reasonably priced from $5 to $7". I was unaware of this at the time, and ordered a Dubra on the rocks. JUSSA KEEDING!!! I drank lots of beer.

On another night I walked to the other side of North Street and attended the grand opening of Jae's Spice. They gave me free wine and sushi. It was the best night of my life. I also felt very popular because a lot of men talked to me. I think they mistook me for a homosexual.

Thank you, Pittsfield, for being everything a town can be!


Very special 413some thanks to Deja for submitting the Berkshire Eagle photo, and for staying calm and sexy when we got attacked by the paparazzi.