88 Ones

• Man. It's been a long week already and it's only Tuesday. The weekend was awesome, though. Ate a Monte Cristo with the folks. Hung out with the Raichile in the Boringest Town on Earth, before riding out to Jacksonville to kill zombies and trivia and chicken parms before Jush straight up actually made it rain to the tune of much more than thirty-one dollars at the stripclub (probably NSFW). All of these things were rad, but they also all screwed up my whole getting used to waking up early thing. (Does it get easier? Ever? Because it's always easy to sleep till noon.)

• I don't know what's going on with the Fader these days. I really don't. First, they take seriously two extra weeks to send me the new issue - which is torturous when you're have to see it in like a bookstore and know that it's available for a free PDF download and that it has a Lil Wayne cover story but you're thinking like, "Well I should wait because I subscribe to this shit and it's going to come sooner or later" - and then they let Nick Catchdubs, a DJ and blogstar who somehow managed to turn capslock and onomatopoeia into a viable journalistic style, slip away from them to go run a record label with A-Trak - the link to which I would include here except that it's a social network link, and I refuse, as you all well know (it's called Fools Gold records, for your searching). Are they trying to make me stop reading their magazine?

• Is anybody going to West Jefferson, North Carolina any time soon? 'Cause even though I'm trying to not drink soda, really, I need to know what non-HFCS cane-sugar style Regular Rocks and Doctor Rocks taste like.

• Thee Famousperson has a blog now. Maybe. It's too early to tell if she's going to keep up with it. So far all that's on there is a picture-less Russian novel of a post that falls well within tl;dr range. (This post, actually, is running the same risk right now. Before you leave, though, check out these Kwik-E Marts!)

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Two-Post Tuesday Even Though It's Wednesday

• I'm just going to make this one post look like two posts 'cause I can't decide how else to do it. (Expandable posts know-how: I needs it.)

• You know, I spend a lot of time listening to Howard Stern on Sirius every day, mainly because it creates the illusion that I have friends. And because damn always listening to lily-livered talk radio all the time. But really, really the best shit ever is Riley Martin's show on Tuesdays at midnight. Have you heard of this guy? Man. What an eloquent kook! Kind of.

• Message to die-hard fans of the Gorillaz: there won't be any more records, and you can fuck yourself.

• If you can find the "XXX" flavor of VitaminWater anywhere, buy all of it. It's the new hotness. And you might never see it again. (Sometimes that works out, sure, but not in this case.)

• Have you heard that Dan Deacon joint? You should, because it's great, and it'll keep your mind off the impending White Stripes release that is driving you insane with anticipation right now.

And Now, Jush Contributes The First Installment of His "Rob & Big Review"















• I am not even one sentence into this, my first review, and I already feel like I have been put on waivers. The MTV reality show Rob & Big provides small insights into everyday life, especially if you are a mega-wealthy skateboarder who can afford to do anything whenever he and his large black bodyguard feel like doing work. For instance, if you ever hire your cousin as an assistant, you must remember that he or she has probably never completed a day of actual work in their lives. Mucking the mini-horse stall in your backyard will probably not be on the list of priorities for that person's day, and neither will cleaning dishes or picking up the occasional "dog log." The main question is how to correct the problem of laziness? The answer is not so simple because there are three different paths you can take. One, leave things the way they have become and expect to find topless maids dusting - not bad, but also not too cost effective. The second option is to fire your cousin and hire David Patrick Sammons. The only problem with him is that he doesn't actually do anything. He has a day planner that makes him look very official, but when it comes time to take that fucking suit off and do work, he would rather hire someone else. Again, not too cost effective. Finally, you decide on the third option, which is to get your cousin a job at the local Burger Central just to let him know what real work is. Then you must test him so here is what you do: go through the drive-thru and order one large chocolate shake, one double burger (no bread no cheese), eight corona fish tacos, and four orders of hot cakes. Drive up to the window, and tell your assistant to climb through that window, and to get into the backseat. Now, I know what you are thinking: how do you handle an overly aggressive mini-horse that you, the owner, are afraid of? Perfect timing! I've got the answer. Find the local mini-horse trainer, who is probably the craziest looking person in your neighborhood, go to her house, walk past her knife collection to the stables in the backyard, damn near lose a limb because of the goat that is just walking around, and then agree to meet at the local horse training facility over the weekend.

Brett sucks,
Jush.

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