Dirt Nasty, 1980, Cocaine, G-Strings, Cocaine

by Edward H

June 25, 2008

White rapper (and most definitely holder of other part time jobs) Dirt Nasty rollerskates his way through a costly pile of the booger sugar (Columbian cold and flu medicine, the Devil’s dandruff, a South American snowbank) to present you, The People, with his idea of what the 1980’s were like. A time when he was no doubt off playing with GI Joe figures, sniffing Mr. Sketch markers, and catching cooties — all making up for lost time now by instead playing with female figures, sniffing Mr. Escobar’s income, and catching STDs.

Thank God to the internet and quirky white rap music for popularizing cocaine, objectifying women, and … objectifying women!

MP3: 1980, by Dirt Nasty. Or view the video below:

With love and rum,
Edward H.

SuperSideBar is more expensive than pouring bottle directly into throat: won’t offend at dinner parties

by Edward H

June 25, 2008

So the clever folks over at Super Sidebar have found a way to let you dispense up to five different drinks without having to bother with that pesky task of actually picking up a bottle. How proletariatly… proletariat of you to have been physically pouring your own drink all this time. Finally, in 2008 for about $500 clams you can appropriately measure your mixed drinks. Whether there’s a setting for “empty whole bottle into this other bottle I’m going to carry around” or not, I can’t be sure… but I do know it pours the booze in 5 separate little flexible tubes — so the premium rum you pour yourself, and the Bacardi you feed to your dogs guests will never mix.

Technology strikes again!
Edward H.

Guy named Matt dances with crabs, not the kind you get on Granville

by Edward H

June 24, 2008

Matt Harding the dancing traveler spent 14 months of his life gallivanting (really?) across 42 countries. All this so he could perform a little jig that looks not unlike my very own Celebratory Dance! that I adhere to after downing half a bottle of rum and pouring the rest all over the closest stripper.

You go Chastity Matt!
Edward H.

Dan Mangan could be depressed, has MySpace account

by Edward H

June 23, 2008

Dan Mangan, a Vancouver local is playing on Wednesday at The Media Club if he doesn’t let a city bus or a ten tonne truck kill him first (as broached in his Smith’s cover of There Is A Light). In the unlikely event of his demise, I’ll go see his show and hope that my $10 will be enough to keep him on track, moving forward!

So Much For Everyone and Journal of a Narcoleptic, by Dan Mangan

If you’re thinking about, you know, it… don’t you dare go without me, Dan!

This place is dead anyway,
Edward H.

Islands, Cities, Alcohol

by Edward H

June 17, 2008

Sigur Rós continually insists on making music that sounds like you’re in an Alfonso Cuarón movie — and although we may not all be saving the planet one camera angle at a time on a $76,000,000 budget, we sure can fucking pretend. So these guys have got a new album (coming?) out. It’s so hard to tell these days when or what an actual release date is, since you can steal pretty much any album a complete year before the artist even realizes they’re going to record it. Now then, moving forward: Alongside my pile of bootleged movies, kennel of stolen puppies, and garage full of jacked cars, I listened to this Sigur Rós track, Inní mér syngur vitleysingur, and thought “Shit yeah. My life means something!”

So I went and grabbed a bottle of bourbon, cranked the song up, watched the sun set, and decided tomorrow I was going to wake up and make a difference — then the drink kicked in, and now I’m just writing about it. Tomorrow? I figure I’ll likely just wake up hungover wondering where my $300 really went.

Inní mér syngur vitleysingur, by Sigur Rós

Hookers have feelings too,
Edward H.

It’s An Island

by Edward H

June 8, 2008

So here I am, sitting on a westbound ferryboat crossing the bay to another island just across the way. In about ten minutes I’ll have finished this bottle of rum I’ve been working on during the ride across. When this thing hits berth, I’ll be meeting up with a dear friend to prepare and cook delicious fixings of the barbecue variety, overlooking the northeast Pacific and discuss a healthy itinerary littered (liquored?) with even more rum, loud music, potentially upset neighbouring households, and with any luck pass out on a bar stool — as so often happens.

It’s Saturday afternoon, almost evening, and at this point — what’s the difference anyway? Weekend? Weekday? Evening, morning, midday? I should select a song to place here that will make your shoes go shoo-shoo-shoo, your hands to go yes-yes-yes, and your throat to go chug-chug-chug. All resulting in a likely pound-pound-pound in your head tomorrow morning, but not before a thump-thump-thump on your headboard tonight.

Gimme More & Bring ‘Em Out (Remix) by, T.I. and Britney.

Good luck out there, tiger!
Edward H.

Let’s Burn This Mother Down!

by admin

June 7, 2008

Weekend. Island. Party. Booze. Drunk. Music. Pants.

Oh, and here’s a video of Yeasayer singing 2080 in some dingy European apartment. How totally bohemian! I stole it from these guys over here.

Kelly Brook is a Babe, Dates Bald Man

by Edward H

May 21, 2008

Although her sweet mammaries and general existence are the main reason this site exists, I regret to say, this post is about men! Men from the band The Coast, and this is what Eye Weekly said…

…its pounding piano turning the sublime through the stopping and starting of guitars flaming out in peaceful whirls. Though “Song For Gypsy Rose Lee” features the Bono-esque falsetto of lead singer Ben Spurr, rest assured, it’s surprisingly artful.

Whatever the hell that means. I’ll break it down for you: Do you like guitars? Do you like raspy, kinda country, kinda rocking dudes, that are probably sleeping with more babes than you, but at the same time have highly addictive drug problems which serve as a constant precurser to heavy emotional problems and progressive thoughts of suicide? If so, grab the song below, cut up a few lines, and write a review like Eye Weekly did.

Floodlights, by The Coast

Well kids, it’s Wednesday, and I have a therapy appointment with Dr. Bottle,

Edward H.

With Love & Rum. Alcoholics: Anonymously.