justice meiers LOL

‘sole news but fuckit: jessica sendeth the funniest shinola ever: Harriet Miers’ blog: I think you can probably tell who came out on top in Miers v Six Vodka Tonics! My first case and I lost it!! LOL
conducted an exceedingly amazing interview today with a certain purveyor of ice creams & clipse tapes. Contender for best quote not included in final copy: “The DaVinci Code is a great book… But I’m an A&E, Discovery Channel, History Channel mobster. If I’m not watching like, the animals and shit, if I’m not watching baboons fighting and shit, chimpanzee behavior in comparison to humans, I love a lot of those discovery shows and history shows and ancient mysteries of the bible. And when I’m not watching that? It’s definitely SpongeBob, South Park, you know what I’m saying? With a fresh bowl of Cinnamon Toast or FruitLoops or some shit.”
This has the stench of a “cover your ass” story. Ship is sinking! Let our hearts be free again!
Keep it in your memory: Ethan Swan, an awesome fellow, sends a link for donation alternatives to the Red Cross.
Some people have just published their first books, which are surely genius. Your favorite multitalent, VJ/professor Josh Kun, for instance. And his book Audiotopia: Music, Race and America. Out November 5. I am pumped to read it–Josh can make theory sing, an academic writer whose prose is immensely pleasurable. He is even funny!
From the homo hip-hop party I attended tonight:
* People actually dance to that DTP cut off the shawnna & dtp records–you know, the one where ludacris’ tagline on chorus is “get ’em/what!” (the name escapes me–“RPM,” that’s it–but i cannot dance, or even bounce, gracefully to it. main problem: everyone DJss the indiscernable clean version, the censorship of which eviscerates 55% of the lyrics and mystifies an already-petulant rhythm pattern.)
* Juelz Santana’s “mic check” cleared the floor entirely, except for one exuberant dude in crispy white business button-down, who vogued and arabesqued to its end.
( jeezy, on the other hand… the freaks came out en masse. And freaked. snow, so titillating? )
* Mounted televisions aired slide photos of Remy Martin in four separate poses, superimposed over psychedelic fractal backgrounds, a la the “buffalo stance” video (or paperrad aesthetics). The DJ is apparently loving Remy as queer icon; he will love her more, perhaps, after hearing the song on her new record which talks about strapping on a dildo and pegging “your man” as a way to get to “you.”
Yesterday. in that little bookstore on Court Street, my coffee cup burst open violently and unexpectedly onto the biography of Truman Capote, the cover of which now depicts “Philip Seymour Hoffman as.” I dreaded the book’s ruin, or the potential for its ruin–not because of the particular book, but because the bookstore itself is special (though mostly i just like its scent)–and before the clerk arrived with paper towels, I sopped up the mess with my white running thermal.
trying to make friends before the apocalypse.
It’s like, Court & Bergen. They have the requisite number of Benjamin Kunkels in stock, but also carry independent presses and chapbooks of neighborhood denizens, and the occasional creepy Cobble Hill-indoctrination kids book, such as “Urban Babies Wear Black” (urban babies wear black… urban babies drink lattes… urban babies attend the opera–in a boardbook meant for kids ages 1-3? solipsism– i mean, let the kid have a fantasy life for just like, three seconds before you pass on the jaded accoutrements of the manhattan sophisticate, sheesh.
2:17 am 10/10/05*******good god CAPPADONNA***