Let me go on the record right fucking now and say Gnarls Barkley is NOT good. I’ve listened. I’ve read the hype. I’ve seen the myspace profile, user pics and the AIM icons. I’ve seen the “clever” promo photos and I don’t give a fuck because the bottome line is I have heard the music and well, simply put it’s bad. I don’t like it. In fact, the first time I put that sampler into the CD player I immediately started making the screw face that most people make when they hear the Boredoms for the first time. “Go Go Gadget Gospel” makes my head spin around and around like Linda Blair in the Exorcist. Their cover of the Violent Femmes “Gone Daddy Gone” makes me want to jump the first plane to wherever Cee Lo and DangerMouse are right now so that I can shake my fist and shout “WHY? WHY?” at the top of my lungs while burning holes through thier chests with my eyes. It’s safe to say this project makes me officially over DangerMouse production and any sort of wacky concept collaborations that come to light from here forward.
**THIS JUST IN - I’m not alone. Thank God. Sasha Frere Jones, esteemed journalist for fancy magazines like the New Yorker also sees through the bullshit. Read his funny take here
Still Cranky Bartender Bitch:
I am sorry to report that GBWBSD is STILL fucking salty. I went in the bar last night with my pal and his pop for a delicious bloody mary or a nice cold beer and this ho had the balls to not only refuse to make bloody marys she took the rudeness to the next level. She immediately snipped “No!” and then turned her back to us after I asked “Um are you making Bloody Marys today?” That bitch didn’t even take a moment to let us decide on an alternative beverage. When she came back to take our order she looked at my pal, his pop and then said to them“it’s cash only here…just so you know” in the most condescending voice I’ve ever heard. Newsflash bitch - YOU ARE A FUCKING BARTENDER. TAKE AN ORDER, BE NICE ABOUT IT AND MAKE WITH THE FUCKING DRANK. I hope all her fake ass dreads fall out and she’s left bald and bitter. I may have to call Gurp City into action, see how she likes it when about 10 drunk fucks stumble in and proceed to fuck shit up left and right and then bounce the fuck up without one moment of regret. Trick-ass-ho gonna get cut
Adam Morrison: This is sort of old now but I never got around to saying it and I really think it’s important that we do not forget. THERE IS NO FUCKING CRYING IN BASKETBALL. What a puss! He acted like he is NOT going to get drafted into the NBA and start stacking dollallallalaotsofpaper.
Soup Spiller: There I am at the soup bar, minding my business, filling my little paper cup with delicious Black Bean soup. I turn around to walk over to where they have the sour cream and cilantro cause let’s be real if you have Black Bean soup you NEED a dollop of sour cream. So as I am setting my salad down and opening the lid to the soup here comes some dickwad barrelling through paying no attention to anyone in his way, he bumps me and makes me spill the ENTIRE cup of soup all over my leg, my jacket, the floor, the sour cream area. Dude doesn’t even respond when I yell “DUUUUUDE!” at the mess that is now dripping off my breast pockets and onto the floor. He was too busy listening to his iPod or talking on the phone or whatever. Dude did not even acknowledge the fact that he bumped into anything or anyone. Let it be known if you bump somone you say “I’m sorry” or “Oh, excuse me” and if you make someone spill shit you go out of your way to apologize. You do NOT just keep walking and then disappear so that Funkybitch can only get you back by saying you are the King of the Dickwads - Overlord of Dickosity on her website. That shit is not cool. Not cool at all.
PLAYERS OF THE WEEK: The Owner of this Shirt:
This sweatshirt ruled my world last Friday night. I totally forgot about it (as I did many other things that happened that night) until I opened up my photos in my phone to see if I had spaced any players that were captured. God bless the cell phone that’s all I’m saying. But seriously, dude’s sweatshirt was plain black except for these small white letters that read “Fuck All Y’all” Props to dude for his purchase or his creativity. I think I talked to him about it but like I said, I don’t remember a lot from that night. Where did this bruise come from?
The Bilingual Tagger: If only my long range photo taking ability on my camera was a bit better. I tried hella settings and this is the best I could do. What you are not seeing and I wish you could is the best graffiti I have seen all year. It read “PINCHE GORDAS” and then sincerly translated directly under it in English was “fucking fat bitches.” I could not stop laughing the entire time I waited for the Muni. I kept thinking about what could have possibly inspired this sort of graffiti. Did dude just get dumped and he’s hella mad? Did dude just try to kick game and then got shut down? Did a big ol’ girl just push her fat ass right past him and take up all the space on the last Outbound N train? I want to know what inspired this act. Also I really want to know what inspired the translation. I’m glad it’s there so that EVERYONE can know what it means.
Local Bars with Shitty Planning and Salty Staff:
The following conversation occurred yesterday at my local watering hole. Goth Bartender with Beauty Shop Dreads: “Can I get you something?” Me: “Well that depends. Are you gonna have the NCAA Championship game on in here. It started like 3 minutes ago. I only see baseball up in here?” GBWBSD:a sigh and a slight eye roll goes down the she says “Um what? Is that basketball or ???” Me:still polite despite her attitude “Oh sorry. Yes basketball, the UCLA v Florida game. It’s on right now are you gonna put it on?” GBWBSD: “Well our cable is out right now, as you can see (at this point she goes super snarky and points ambiguously over her shoulder to a dude who is juggling a remote in his left hand and banging on the TV ) they are working on it now. So I can’t really say when it’s gonna be resolved. Is that like a big deal or something? I feel like people keep asking me that. So do you want something or not?” Me:“Wow! Okay well is it the cable or like just a TV issue? Because I see the baseball game over there and the NCAA game is on CBS so it should come in regardless of…” GBWBSD:at this point she cuts me off very abrubtly and says, “Listen. I don’t know okay. I said they are working on it. Do you want a beer or something?” Me: “Alright fine…can I get a spicy Bloody Mary then?” GBWBSD: with her hands on her hips she stares at me a few seconds, then places her hands on the bar and says “Well here’s the thing. We are not making Bloody Marys today. We don’t have all the fixins and besides they are time consuming. It’s going to be a busy night with all these games and all”
It is at this point that I lose it. I exclaim “Are you kidding me? You are seriously not making Bloody Marys today? It’s only 6:30. This is retarded. I’m gonna just go home then. There is no reason for me to be here” I gathered my shit and left. The most annoying part is I have NEVER seen that Goth chick in there before. It’s usually either one of two charming Irish ex-pats one young and one old that happily mix up a delicious Bloody without blinking. The Bloody Marys at this spot rival the infamous Blood Duffy that can only be found in Chico, CA at Duffy’s Tavern. On a good day the Bloody’s at my local spot are BETTER. Honestly. Back to the hate, I’m pretty sure GCWBD is just pissed because she is still making credit card payments on her fake ass insta-dreads she had installed six months ago. Or maybe Walgreens ran out of jet black hair dye and now she lives in fear that her blonde roots are going to show through and rat her out to all her “friends.” Or maybe she is salty that she didn’t get that job at Madame’s House of Bondage and Leather thus killing all dreams of discounted corsets and vinyl skirts? Whatever the case her attitude was not necessary or appreciated. Neither was the lack of sports coverage on the eve of a very fucking important game. By the looks on the faces of the 8 or so off duty bike messengers sitting at the end of the bar, it became apparent cable was the issue. Those poor guys were grasping beers, looking over their shoulders for three seconds to see baseball on the tiny TV and then immediately back to the big TV to see if the game had surfaced. No such luck. I ended up going home with a 40oz to watch that shit at my house. And then UCLA lost. Lame.
Kelly Clarkson “Walk Away” video: Kelly, honey? Can we talk? Come here sit down. Listen, you know more than anyone how much I love you right? Okay, good. You were so cute on American Idol then those bastard Hollywood stylists got thier mits on you and revamped your quaint hometown girl charm into something more “edgy and youthful” Unfortunately that “edgy” look sort of put you in a rut. Those customized “punk rock chic” vintage rock t-shirts sew into terriblehaltertops did you no good at all. Then came the leather pants and the barefeet. Again, I’m willing to blame those on a bad stylist. But at some point, Kelly, you need to put that barefoot down and say “Listen, I look like an asshole” and force them to bring something better to the table. By the looks of your new video you put your foot down and some shoes on your feet. Unfortunately it appears you borrowed those shoes from Gwen Stefani. In fact the entire look you are rocking in “Walk Away” looks as if you raided Gwen’s Salvation Army pick-up sitting on her front porch. There is nothing wrong with being inspired by Gwen. She is freakin’ awesome at dressing herself. She knows her body, what works, what doesn’t and manages to pull off shit that I would never, ever, ever consider wearable. But she is Gwen Stefani. Have you seen her stomach? That shit is ridiculous. Now, don’t take this the wrong way, I told you I love you. Remember that. You my dear do not have Gwen’s stomach. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH WHAT YOU HAVE…but, how do I say this…it is NOT your best asset. In fact, let’s talk about that. You have a wonderful ass. A white girl with ass is a hot commodity. Why not play that up instead of all those wierd close-ups on your stomach? I know this is all hard to take coming from me, but just remember I say these things because I care. If you were someone I didn’t care about like say Ashlee or Lindsay I wouldn’t bother to spend all this time to point out your flaws. I would have just called you a dumb tramp and left it at that. So please for the love of god, FIRE YOUR FUCKING STYLIST. NOW!
Rain: Where the fuck am I? Seattle? No. I am in the fucking Bay Area. Why the fuck is it raining all the damn time. And don’t you dare say some smart ass shit about that whole “Spring showers for May flowers…” bullshit, cause I don’t give a fuck. It’s SF, if I want flowers I know where to fucking find them. The Flower Mart on 7th and Brannan, that shit is open to the public M-S after 10. Fuck the rain. I’m sick of being wet and buying umbrellas. Fuck.
MTV Direct Effect: It goes without saying that MTV don’t know shit about shit. They certainly don’t know shit about hip-hop unless its coming from fools like 50, Diddy or Nelly. Last night I was rollin’ through the channels and was really surprised when I stopped on MTV. Bun B’s “Throwed” was playing and along the top of the screen that shit read “Off The Radar.” I thought to myself “Really? Off the radar?” I mean I know fools still ain’t really feeling UGK the way they need to but certainly the Free Free Pimp Ccampaign and Trillest of the Trill has mutherfuckers waking up and knowing. “Throwed” has been out for a miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinute too so that had me stuck. Then I remembered I was watching Direct Effect and let’s be honest Bun B ain’t no catchy ass Chris Brown so I guess that’s how it goes. It’s still wack tho. I posted the video here so you can peep it. It’s not my favorite song off Trill but it is still dope. ***On the real if one of you knows where I can cop a “Drank University” letterman jacket like Pimp C’s in the Bun B “Throwed” video, holler at yo’ girl. I know about 20 mutherfuckers who would give up a week’s worth of weed for one of them joints.
PLAYER OF THE WEEK: Jonathan Antin of Blow Out, Jonathan Product, Jonathan Salons and most recently Jonathan “The Dad” of Jonathan’s Baby.
This is almost too easy of a choice for Player of The Week, but it had to be done. In fact, Jonathan might actually have already appeared as PoTW before, but I am a stoner and I forget that sort of shit. What was I talking about? Oh yeah, Jonathan. Jonathan’s arrogance is mesmerizing and almost inspirational. Literally everything in his life revolves around him, his needs, his feelings, his looks, his skills. I don’t think it’s even possible for him to start and end a sentence without including at least one utterance of Jonathan. He is also really big on making sure everyone knows he is really, deep down just a simple guy who “Wants to do good hair, man.” When in actuality it is really quite the opposite. That dude has his fingers in so many non-hair pies (whoot…that was a good one) it’s amazing he actually finds time to cut a head of hair. Dude even has a podcast. Yes a podcast, you know in case you wanted to hear Jonathan talk more about Jonathan Product and the struggles with taping the show Blow Out featuring Jonathan. He’s the CEO of like three Jonathan companies and a TV show, oh and his sister is the creater of the Pussycat Dolls, dude. My new favorite happening in Jonathan’s life is his kid. Evidently he felt the need to re-re-establish to everyone that he is definately NOT gay, so he knocked up and married his girlfriend. Now there is a freaky looking baby that bears a frightening resmblance to Jonathan, despite my theory that his “wife” is really a high paid personal assistant who managed to cop a baby deemed attractive enough to represent the spawn of Jonathan’s very NOT gay and amazing genes (soon to be packaged and marketed as Jonathan Sperm.) The birth of his son has brought a lot of “real heavy” responsibility to his life. He now realizes that it’s more than just Jonathan in this crazy world. I mean know he has Jonathan’s son. The last episode I watched in amazment as Jonathan stepped into a professional vocal booth so that he could make a recording of his voice reading his son nursery rhymes. This way he could still handle all the Jonathan business without sacrificing that “special” time he should be spending with Jonathan’s son. As he struggled to read the very simple rhymes, “Hick-o-ray, Tick-o-ray, Dock-uh…” he fained a wierd emotion that I think was supposed to be reflective or sentimental. Watching him wipe imaginary tears from his eyes while he nodded his head and mumbled, “Wow. Heavy Man” over and over and over sent me into a fit of laughter. I really need to send a letter to Bravo, thanking them for making that moment happen. But on the real, what I really want to see is Jonathan verses Gallo in a full on Ego-Off. There will be multiple rounds including but not limited to:
1. How many compliments can they give themselves while in an interview with a journalist.
2. A staring contest. With themselves. In a mirror.
3. A round robin style merchandising war. A serious of products, items and assorted gadgets will be laid in front of them. They are to give these product names like Vincent Gallo’s Guide to Cooking Vincent Gallo a fantastic meal. Or, Jonathan’s Beauty Water. Oh wait that’s a real one. Dude took a shower once with bottled water because his water was off. Next thing you know he is demanding to market and sell a filter for the shower because “Dude, Jonathan’s skin felt fucking amazing” after rinsing off with bottled water. Don’t believe me click up there on the words Jonathan Product.
4. A pissing match. Literally.
Please feel free to post your additions to the Gallo v. Jonathan Ego-Off. I think I am onto something. Seriously.
funkybitch | 
04 11th, 2006| 
