OLD NEW IS STILL NEWS TO ME

Maybe you nerds heard about this story before me but damn. Pete Doherty. Mike Tyson. Romantic hotel room acoustic sessions. Yup.

PETE DOHERTY and boxer MIKE TYSON have become unlikely pals after the troubled British rocker performed an intimate show for the controversial fighter in a Manchester, England hotel room. Tyson was in the city refereeing the World Cage Fighting Championships when he asked for an audience with Doherty after learning the former LIBERTINES star was staying in the same hotel. A hotel insider says, "Pete Doherty just got out his guitar and started playing a few tunes for Mike Tyson. Tyson was thrilled. He really seemed to enjoy the music. contactmusic.com

WE NEED MORE CHRIS ELLIOTT

This Bro tried to keep his loserish eyes open long enough to catch the Late Show with David Letterman in order to see the Yeah Yeah Yeahs perform. And while they definitely didn't disappoint [Karen O was her robotically crazed spastic self] what really made it worth watching was catching my man Chris Elliott on the earlier segment. This dude is a straight genius. He's obviously insane too. He was there promoting Scary Movie 4 and showed a clip of the movie which involved Shaq and Dr. Phil. Although the clip was really from the movie and truly of Dr. Phil and Shaq, he claimed that he was playing Shaq and actually forced to go through 7 hours of make up to look like Shaq and that he was in fact fitted with stilts and covered in pudding. Anyway. Dude killed it in that show Get A Life.

THE WEIRDEST GIRL I EVER MET

I truly don’t know any dudes as weird as DDD’s boy Randy, but I can easily tell you about the weirdest girl I ever met. So I’m at a friend’s b-day party and meet one of her really cute “friends” visiting from Texas. One thing leads to another and we end up back at my place, where, laying in bed I notice this chick has not one, but two tattoos of huge six-shooter pistols on each of her calves, as well as an insane looking dragon that covers her entire shoulder…hmmmm.

Me: Uhhh, those are nice…when did you get those?”
Her: “Ohh, I got these when I was 14, after my mother kidnapped me from my father and we fled to Texas. We changed our names and everything…you actually don’t know my real first name.”
Me: Right

Because she was kinda fly, I decided to put the six-shooters and fake name behind me and chill with her again. This proved to be a bad idea. After she offered me $100 for no reason, and explained that she really felt a “connection” towards me, I felt it was time to let our brief relationship end. Of course, that night I got a strange call from the girl who introduced us.

Friend: “Hey Paul, you and that girl didn’t happen to go to any pawn shops today did you?”
Me: “Uhhhh, I don’t really kick it at pawn shops all that much, no, sorry”
Friend: “Well, turns out your friend (she suddenly became my friend) stole my roommate’s grandmother’s engagement ring…kinda a family heirloom.”
Me: Right

As I’m scouring my room trying to see what’s missing, I realize I don’t own a goddamn thing, so this bitch couldn’t have possibly affected my life in any way…unless she got pregnant and we had some weirdo clepto-baby with a no-named/crazy tatted-out whore for a mother…Basically, this creep stole some family heirloom so she could buy rounds of drinks, buy a ticket back to Texas, and offer me a random amount of money for no reason. Does she still call me to this day telling me how she sees me in her dreams? You bet. Do I still check under my bed and in my closets to make sure she isn’t there? Damn right. Will I ever go to Texas? Probably not. Did I take that $100????????

I know Bro's dont like to get too political. But Yo, this is crazy
The cover of Sunday’s New York Times Magazine a couple of weeks ago featured a garish photo of Democratic Presidential hopeful Mark Warner. The lighting, color correction and camera angle depict an individual who can only be described as a bastard love child between Jimmy Carter and Richard Nixon. Adjacent to the image is a button reading "The Anti-Hillary."

Straight up, the Times tried to make this dude look like a bucktooth, inbred, used car salesman when they introduced him to the nation. Why? Because right now, this dude is Hillary’s main competition and in a stroke of shameless and misguided activism, they aimed to assasinate him.



As it turns out, the Times was forced to issue a correction on this very photograph and admit that they changed the colors of his clothing and made his skin appear sallow. They tried to say it was a mistake, but take a look at what this dude really looks like. Here's what they said:

The cover photograph in The Times Magazine on Sunday rendered colors incorrectly for the jacket, shirt and tie worn by Mark Warner, the former Virginia governor who is a possible candidate for the presidency. The jacket was charcoal, not maroon; the shirt was light blue, not pink; the tie was dark blue with stripes, not maroon.

Now beyond being completely unethical, why were the Time's actions so misguided? Because nasty-ass Hillary has no shot to be president, not because she is a woman, but because Americans see her as lacking in integrity. This is partially because she accepted being a cuckold in a lifelong marriage for political gain and partially because since she has been in office she has played it safe the whole time, while clearly positioning herself for the 2008 race. Maybe this Warner guy doesn't have a shot either. I dont know. But I do know that this situation typifies why the left has been politically impotent in the past decade, and why John McCain will be the next president. Its because they would rather attack each other, and make decisions based on pride than put up the candidate most likely to win and steer the nation in a more positive direction. These folks have such a hard-on to say "We nominated the first woman to the presidency," that they are blind to the truth which is that Hillary Clinton is about as prepared to be president as George Bush was in 2000, with none of the chances of winning.

FUCK YOU LOOKIN' AT

Yo. No homophobe. But why do you keep looking at me? Like everytime I look up in this Sports Club lockeroom, you're trying to make eye contact.
Am I in front of your locker? or did I snake you in line for the treadmill? Maybe you think you know me? Did we go to grade school together? Do I just not recognize you because you didn't used to shoot steriods and shave your body?
You know what, fuck it, 'cause you are seriously eyeing me like I'm Brooke Shields in ’82.
And another thing, what was all that scuffling about when I opened the door to the steam room the other day?
Can't a brother get a sweat on in peace? Do my nostrils not deserve a refreshing influx of mentholated steam just because I'm straight?
When did I miss the e-mail where it was announced that any grown man seen exercising will be assumed to be gay?
All Im trying to do is get myself back into some kind of respectable condition here and the next thing you know I've got to decide which is worse. Giving you a full monty to think about later, or turning my back you so you're glare can burn a hole in my ass cheeks.

A FEW QUESTIONS

1. Does the owner of this store think that this shit looks good?

2. What the hell is in the tupperware at the bottom of the fridge?

3. What kind of animal is that on the far right hook?

4. Is this store actually in an alley?

You gotta love the Italians.

THE WEIRDEST DUDE I EVER MET

I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce you all to Randy.
He is, in fact, the weirdest dude I ever met. We were best friends for about 4 hours one summer day in San Diego.

You see, once upon a time I freaked out and bolted across the country in 3 days, whence I landed in San Diego without a dime.
The only work I could find was as a bicycle taxi (pedicab) driver in downtown area otherwise known as the Gaslamp District. The area was a typical, mid-90s, riverfront refurbishing project, complete with all varieties of franchise restaurants and a new ball park all erected within a 5-year span of corporate investment.
In case your not aware, prior to this restoration, downtown SD was one of the most notorious shit-holes in SoCal. It wasn't even a ghetto, it was just an unpoliced shantytown of dealers, pimps, hos addicts and sailors on leave. Even in the present, you only have to go a block out of the redeveloped area to find abandoned lots full of squatters, and there are constantly schizo, homeless dudes with USMC tattoos who make scenes and expose themselves in the middle of the street on Friday night. Anyways, I usually worked nights, but on Tuesday’s this cruise ship would come in and I'd usually go out and try to scam some tourists on $50 an hour bike tours where I would completely make shit up and act like it was for real and that I'd been living an San Diego my whole life. Some examples of my schtick:

1. "If you look over to your left, you'll notice the gorgeous skyline of downtown San Diego. Its a little known fact that any new buildings taller than 50 stories have to look like something. For example, that building looks like a Phillips head screw driver, see that one - it look like the flat head. Oh yeah - thats my favorite - It looks like Superman’s fortress."

2. "To your right, behold the the oldest boat in America"

3. "Our downtown Hooter's was actually voted best in the nation. We're very proud"

etc.....So one fine day I'm cruising the harbor in board shorts and a tank top, looking for suckers and this spectacular nut-job flags me down.
He hops on and says:
"Take me to where the whores are"
"What"
"You know, whores, hookers, girls, this $15 bucks is burning a hole in my pants"
"Uh..."
Apparently Randy had been at sea on a merchant marine vessel for at least a decade and was expecting to find the old Dego. I tried to explain to him that I just didn't know where the whores were. His first reaction was disbelief, then sadness.

"This place used to be better than Singapore"

In leu of prostitutes, I suggested something to eat. Eager to have a friend Randy hired me as his driver for the day, bought me lunch and about 5 Jack and Cokes. It was a pretty good score I thought. Basically my job was to listen to this dudes story for an afternoon. The man had led a pretty hard and solitary life. He'd been at sea mostly since he was 16 when he left his Texas home with no formal education. He'd been all over the world. Rarely it seemed, did he venture out of view of the red lights of whatever port city he happened to be in. He had a beer gut the size of a prize pumpkin and faded tattoos the length of his arms. Randy did possess one very unique talent. He had an uncanny ability to insert profanity, not just in any sentence, but actually in between syllables of any word. Two examples:

"Re-goddamn-diculous"
"Abso-fuckin'-lutely"

At certain points in our conversation, which revolved around prostitutes, I became genuinely frightened. Some excerpts:

"One time I had a whore in India, she wouldn't let me touch her tits. Man when I'm paying for a woman, I want to be able to touch her tits. Boy did I get mad"

"Man, I cant believe it around here. Things have really changed. Used to be able to get a girl for 5 or 10 bucks, and young too. Say, you sure you don't know where to find the hookers" (this about 3 hours after our initial conversation)

"Oh yeah man, you've really got to get out to Indonesia"

All the while, Randy maintained the wild-eyed look you see captured here. Anyway, after few hours, I dropped Randy back at his hotel and shamelessly took what appeared to be the last $75 in his wallet, telling him it was my going rate. As I went off to surf the sunset, I couldn't help but wonder what would become of this guy. From his condition at the time, my guess is that he is currently patronizing that big brothel in the sky. But maybe, just maybe, this lonely old scalawag found a home somewhere and settled down with a mail order bride, or some kind of human-traffic-victim slave-teenager. Well, wherever you are Randy - you sick motherfucker - thanks for the booze.

it was at this point....

.....in my youthful life that i knew i had a "special" friend. partial blame may lay on the fact that our intake level of weed and alcohol surpassed much of our peers. but even without such vices, evan often had a look of insanity on his face. take this night for example... purchase a large bag of weed from my man shaka, gather at evan's open crib, get our girls to the house, break up weed, smoke weed, start looking crazy......

IS GROSS A SENSATION?

A couple of Bro's headed to South Paw on Saturday and checked out a fresh show by Dr. Dog. Afterwards, drinks were consumed and late night snacks snacked upon. However, Evrocker took late night drunken munchies to a whole new level. And the level I speak of is GROSS. I admit I took a taste before realizing what I was eating: Slow. Roasted. Lamb and Mint. Chips....... Are you kidding me? What the fuck is wrong with you potato chip people. If I want potato chips I WANT CHIPS*. I don't want an entire meal compressed into a salty circular "sensation." You know what, I have a new flavor to suggest, how about Meat Loaf and Ketchup? Or maybe Liver and Onions? Sound good? Do you know what one of the main ingredients in this bag of chips was? Lamb Powder. The only sensation this bag of chips gave me was a severe case of the Burgles.**

*This website is absurd. I can't help but imagine the slobs who actually write the reviews, and how I want to be one].
**Word to be defined in the near future.

HELL ON EARTH

Have you ever read Dante’s Inferno, no? Well, if you’ve ever wondered what one of those levels of Hell looked like, I can suggest a spot. Hell on earth you ask? Yeah, if you’ve got the heart, peep that spot on 53rd and Ninth Avenue which is undoubtedly one of the many levels of hell so vividly described by my man Dante 600 years ago…the Italian to English translation has changed remarkably in those 600 years, but linguists have determined that Dante was in fact writing about BLIMPIES….that’s right, that shit is undisputable, he was talking about BLIMPIES on 53rd and 9th. Hungry for some stale bread and flat soda? Don’t know whether it’s your sandwich or the frumpy Jewish dude next to you that smells like ass cheeks? Is that the franchise manager rocking a brown corduroy jacket and tuxedo pants asking you if you’re “enjoying your breakfast,” even though its 3:30 in the afternoon? Is ABBA’s Dancing Queen blasting through a staticky speaker, and about to be followed by that Mambo #5 song? Is Rod Stewart’s Forever Young making you cry while you watch a Vietnam Vet shove an overstuffed Tuna sandwich into his face-piece? Are you laughing and crying when you realize that the manager makes A LOT more money than you, but you’re still happy for him because he looks like a swell guy? Are we actually looking forward to that Fleetwood Mac song that you know is coming on next?? Hmmmmm, if it looks like a Blimpies, smells like a Blimpies and is as uncomfortably nauseating as a Blimpies….you’re definitely in HELL.

I FEEL YA FRANK

So the other night some Bro's met up to kick it. And when i say some, I mean enough to hold down like 8 bar stools with authority and frighten away any women in the vicinity. A couple of dranks later, as the revelry behind and around me continued at its normal pace, I found myself chin to palm, holding and looking into my drink like it contained all the answers to life. In my semi dazed/reflective/depresso state I looked up from my bar stool and saw this exact album directly in front of me. I swear. It was fucking weird. I was like, Holy Shit Bro, me and Frank are having a heart to heart right now. And what did Frank tell me you ask? "No One Cares kid...stop being such a pussy." "Thanks Frank.." I mumbled to myself. And then this huge horrendous girl came up to me and drunkenly asked if I was at the playgirl party earlier. What??? No. I looked at her and looked up at Frank. Frank just shook his head and told me, "Just give'r the big back kid, just give her the big back." Word.

I GUESS I’M GONNA TAKE CARE OF MYSELF

In another anonymous Bro update, it has come to the attention of this Bro that another Bro has for years been implementing a diabolical and slightly gross technique in his attempt to be on the receiving end of affection from members of the opposite sex. I'm not saying there aren't worse techniques out there i was just unaware of this particular one. Apparently, if it appears that sex of any sort is not going to be happening, and after the Bro has requested and been denied to take things further, He then goes to Plan B. Plan B is a move that forgoes the embarrassment of begging but requires that you aren’t afraid to masturbate in a girls bathroom, which in itself has the possibility of being rather embarrassing, but hey I’m just reporting on this, I’m not offering an opinion, it’s called journalism with integrity people. Anyway back to the creepy sex moves. So after being denied, the Bro then disengages from amorous activity and for maximum guilt somberly states… “Well, I guess I’m gonna go to the bathroom and take care of myself.” At which point the girl either gives in and relents, or he straight works his joint in her bathroom. Apparently the percentages are about 50-50 as to what the girl will decide. Which begs the question: Who are these girls that are letting dudes work their joints all over their bathrooms?

Halloween is Dangerous Dude (Part 1)

November 1st, 2005 marks the date I found out that Halloween is the only holiday deliberately designed for Jackasses. Some of you may already have known this but I regretfully had to hit bottom (break my face) before I could realize otherwise. You see, as a youngster the trick-or-treating act really blinded me from its actual ridiculous premise of dressing up as something you’re not and never will be and to beg for scrumptious treats. I mean, come on, what the fuck is the deal with that? Might as well stop bathing, live on the streets and pander people for money – there’s your new fucking holiday. However, in full-on naivety, I participated for many years with a costume that took the least effort to get the job done. This consisted of me simply bringing a prop on my door-to-door journey that could most easily be associated with a prefabricated generic costume. For example – slap a turtle shell on your back and rock a blue headband and all of a sudden you’re a fierce Leonardo – carry a plastic M-16 matched with some sloppy fatigues and here comes Sgt Slaughter – you get the idea. The only problem was that any costume I meekly attempted never looked right with my ridiculously long golden-blond locks. Instead, the trick-or-treatees were a little too scared when greeting them was a Teenage-Mutant-Ninja-Trany. And strangely at that time, I more or less didn’t care that people just assumed I was costumed as a homo or a girl, which now that I think of it, basically made everyday Halloween without the Twix. So yeah, it’s not that surprising when I say – Halloween is definitely the gayest holiday. Some folk aren’t hip to how retarded this holiday is yet and think terrific, I can dress up like a bag of kitty litter while some other more dignified person can ignore the imposed dress-up ritual altogether - neither walk away feeling good, but one walks away from the another thinking, “what a cock,” and there’s no confusion to which one is me. The way I see it, it’s a holiday for jerks that really want to get noticed for their jerkness. Why, when I find dressing myself (at times) is difficult enough, would I want to take on the added challenge and come up with some last minute shit like the– “I’m a tourist” costume. Isn’t this hilarious? No! Wait, maybe you don’t get it. I’m from New York and I’m dressed like one of those tourist fucks from who knows where. Now you get it? See – the K-Mart outfit with the Casio camera necklace, shit is too hilarious. Or there’s the convenient: I- haven’t -shaved -for- a couple-days so-I-might -as-well-be -something- rugged- like -a- cowboy-or-a-Mexican. Clearly the look-like-a-cock-asshole options are endless. There is no coincidence why I hate this evil day, but in order to make you truly understand, I have to explain the incident that will never allow me to participate in this horrible holiday ever again.

To be continued…

DO YOU KNOW WHAT A LOVE LETTER IS?

It was me: godbody, had to dead that pork.... and er, chicken, and fish ... this dude right here has been busting his ass the last couple of days (which is kinda problematic since I'm REAL fuckin lazy) I got this paper due, and dudes have been troopin to the South BX by day then coming back to my girlfriend's house to bang out this paper, staying up real fuckin late reading shit about access to health care ... dude i got health care, and I don't use it, so what do I care about people who aint got it (I kid cause I love)... and so dudes are excruciatingly tired and furious right about now ... oh and the other day I got this really terrible du, my girlfriend cut it and dudes were defintiely rocking the offical Slobodan Milošević (RIP, Kid! is there a heaven for a gansta?!) Basically with the haircut I looked like I should have had a Croatian at the end of a rifle, like "I'd get on some ol' 1996 shit and punch a Muslim in they face just for living" I looked nuts. So I had to get that jointed crisped out with some Russian lady down the block. So dude's have real short hair right now ... I get home last nite tired as shit, hungry as fuck and holler at my dudes at the Chinese restaurant, merked out on some blackbean tofu, you know just doing my thing ... meanwhile my girlfriend is sitting next to me sipping on some Jewish wine ... so after I finish my lifeblood (aka Chinese food, honestly, sondobbie, if they made that shit illegal I’d be a straight “Brownsausehead”, like yo you got them blue top dumplings, yo I got two Cheeseburgers, yo I’ll suck …)… we kiss and I'm like "you smell like wine" ... oh, her response "YOU SMELL LIKE A DOG!" ... so I'm like "what'd you just say?" and her reply, "I like the way dogs smell." No you don't, no one does, when you walk in to a real filthy crib you say to your boy on the low, "yo it smells like straight dog in here"... So whatever whatever were hanging and then she like "with your new hair cut you look a someone ...um, from the fifties, like southern or something ... you know, someone who would be pro -segregation" say word, "like you think that the Jim Crow laws were a good thing, like anti Brown v. The board of Ed". ... So to sum up, after a hard days work my girlfriend tells me a smell like shit and I look like an inbred racist piece of shit ... there’s nothing like the love and support of your significant other...

THE BRO REPORTS ISLAMIC UPDATE

Asalamalakum bro's. Just a quick warning: if you live in Afghanistan, and you convert to christianity, your parents will snitch to the authorities and You will be sentenced to death. However you may be spared the death penalty by claiming insanity, b/c you're obviously straight crazy to even think about converting. Perhaps another way to avoid them religious 5-0's is to rock these special Muslim Jeans. I just want to put you fools on to some new religious gear. I've seen all you scenesters out there wearing those Arab scarves, well now there's the perfect pair of jeans to accompany that straight out the strip [Gaza that is] look. Them new 'Al Qud' jeans are made with extra wide legs for praying and large pockets for concealing- I mean holding all sorts of Islamic "accessories." Plus them joints only cost 30 bills! That's a freakin' deal. So if you're a financially strapped muslim, a fan of comfy jeans, or just want an extra hard time getting through airport security, these are the jeans for you. Assalam Alaikum (Happy shopping).

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TYPING?

Like most law school grads, I work as an errand boy. That’s right, I go on errands. You know what though? it doesn’t really bother me that I had to go buy a toilet bowl cleaner yesterday. ..i’m cool with that, sometimes dudes really punish toilet bowls, and those joints need to be cleaned. However, what I can’t seem to handle, and never will be able to handle is waiting on line at the bank and dealing with bank tellers and or customer service reps. Why is that 95% (the other 5% look like her) of people who work behind the customer service desk are the most uneducated, unhelpful , horrible attitude having, eye rolling, gum snapping people on earth. Lets also not forget the retardedly dimwitted. No matter how nice you try to be, these people are the worst. They attempt to frustrate you just so that you will leave and they won't actually have to provide any service to their customers. So obviously at 5:45 my boss tells me to go to this exchange place and get these British pounds turned back into dollars. I look at my watch, look at him, look at my watch and just shake my head…come on bro, its 5:45. So I’m waiting on line to get 200 British pounds turned back into US lootcakes and this lady in front of me starts wild’n out about the fact that one of her ten-spots is counterfeit and she can’t believe the bank won’t let her take it with her. This lady starts calling everybody, her boyfriend, her sister, her lawyer, all while screaming and throwing a straight-up fit. Damn lady, nobody gives a shit about 10 bills…I live at my mom’s crib and I’ll still burn a fuckin 10 dollar bill right in front of your face: I’m broke as a motherfucker, but you won’t catch me throwing a fit over a 10 spot, and guess what, there better be a few more zeros attached to that 10 for you to be calling lawyers. Basically,…You’re a JERK, get off the line. Anyway, so I’m next in line and I know this bank teller is ready to beef with me.

Bro: “Excuse me, I’d like to exchange this for US dollars at the current rate, thanks.”
Awful Customer Service person: “mmm-hmmmm.”

WRONG RESPONSE YOU FUCKING SLOB: mmmm-hmmm? Is that fuckin English??? How about, “Sure!” or “Okay,” or maybe even “no problem,” or “sure, one second.” Anything remotely resembling the courtesy with which I asked you, god body. So this lady starts typing away at her little computer for, no-joke, at least 15 minutes. What the fuck could she have possibly been typing for that long? All you need is a multiplication table, some US dollars, some British pounds, and I can be on my way. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TYPING LADY??????? After ten minutes I’m so heated, I start mock typing against the counter, mimicking her head and hand movements, until she finally looks up at me, rolls her eyes, and keeps typing. So, like a little child, I keep typing away at my fake computer, all while thinking that this lady is typing in huge 26 font letters… I WEAR UNDERWEARS WITH DICK HOLES IN EM, I WEAR UNDERWEARS WITH DICK HOLES IN EM, I WEAR UNDERWEARS WITH DICKHOLES IN EM…. Over and over again. Around 6:30 I roll out of this place, furious, with only the image of that fat shit and her stupid underwears with dickholes in em.

T.O. HE'S A REAL MAN'S MAN
Check out: Gorilla vs. Bear. Scroll down right below the Midlake post. Listen to his new song, "I'm Back." "Got them saying wow boy" is a telling sample lyric. 'Mo status firmly established. Peep his GQ photo shoot if you need more than two platinum earrings and a bathrobe of evidence. Uncomfortable around hot chicks, are we T.O.????

SOUTH BY SOUTHWHATEVER

Most of you know that this past week was the highly publicized music "festival" called South by Southwest [or for you lazy jerks "SXSW", or for you douchebags just "South by"]. What you may or may not have known was that TBR sent down a Bro who not only reported on the festivities, but also performed. The Gray Kid was kind enough to take some time away from his current mini tour and speak with us. I actually have him live right now via satellite: TBR: You there?
TGK: No.
TBR: Cool. Lets just hit up this quick Q&A cause i gotta poop. Now, what was the biggest jerk move that you witnessed at SXSW?
TGK: Hmmm.....I’d have to say the biggest jerk move I saw at SXSW was me trying to drive-thru at the walk-up taco truck at 2:45am wasted off tequila, sending the people in line and bits of top sirloin scattering everywhere only to realize the taco truck was called Mexcellent and then feeling bad for doing such a brilliant culinary entrepreneur so much wrong.
TBR: Mexcellent? That's amazing. So what state does Austin really belong in?
TGK: Texas for sure. It’s still a bunch of white people.
TBR: And Texas was Rad because?
TGK: I saw one of those perfect University of Texas pure bred girls with that perfect pure bred ass walking with a complete fucking moron idiot out of a bar full of idiot morons.
TBR: Jocks get all the chicks in Texas.....Why don't hipsters exercise?
TGK: Because they’ve somehow rationalized in their twisted hipster heads that trying to positively affect their appearance by traditional means (running, dieting, not smoking) is a mainstream concept that they need to avoid, while “alternative” means of improving one’s appearance (hair, makeup, clothes) can be justified through their theoretically artistic and/or expressive merits. Meanwhile, these same dumb bitches will ride bikes in 35 degree weather as long as they're vintage Schwinns.
TBR: Agreed. How about your favorite food jumpoff spot in town? [drunk taco spot is an acceptable answer]
TGK:Habana Calle 6, a cuban jumpoff replete with rice and beans OPTIONS with your dish, friend plaintain sandwiches, and NCAA tourney games on. The barbeque I had was solid (the beef ribs, that is. The pork was way average) but the best barbeque in the world could never, ever cost 11.95 for a plate that leaves you legitimately hungry. KC takes the crown, Arthur Bryant's to be specific.
TBR: How about the music? What band definitely stepped their game up and blew the nerd glasses off all those indie mag editors?
TGK:I saw a killer banjo rock n' pop band called Illinois. They're from Philadelphia. Good dude Chris singin' into a telephone during some songs. Rad. Also saw a sick band called Forward Russia. But it's like super 4am scream on you indie rock with chops and rolling around the stage. Not the post-blunt joints really.
TBR: Thanks for the report god body.
TGK: Squalor.

YA GOT A HUNDRED DOLLA BILL MAKE NOIZZZE

I don't know what you fools think about it, but in my opinion March Madness is the shit. The excitement, the devotion, the love and passion. But it's the the intense competion and the chance for an upset that really gets me. I mean who would of thought that Shante would upset Melissa to make it to the sweet 16? And that super jiggle at the buzzer that Tameka through down to beat Lilly? Unbelievable. Wait. You don't understand what i'm talking about? No dumb fuck I'm not talking about the NCAA March madness, I'm talking about that world famous Fatman Scoop's March Madness: The Big Bootie Contest. I don't know about y'all but my final four picks are still in the running.

TAKE CARE MEANS YOU'RE A DOUCHEBAG

The following is an ACTUAL email conversation forwarded from a friend of a Bro who shall remain anonymous.
ANONYMOUS BRO: I just wanted to apologize for the way I behaved on thursday night. I remember certain moments of the night but am honestly not entirely sure of what happened. If you really hate me and don't want to talk with me again then I will understand that. but please believe me when I say that I know I acted like a complete jerk and should have been in much better control of myself and my actions. and I am really trying to figure out how I got some pen drawings on my chest..... Which really confuses me as I do not remember having my shirt off or pulled up at all during the night..... I also remember you friend throwing a glass of water on me at the restaurant we went to in midtown..... what did I do to her to deserve that.....

UNAMUSED GIRL: Yeah, you were out of control and so was my friend, alcohol does that. but its hard to believe you don't remember what happened, you should take accountability for your actions. I didn't give you the impression that I was interested, so if you felt that way, it wasn't my intention. I was just hoping we could be friends. Anyways, I'm uncomfortable hanging out with you again. Take care.

On a side note: the phrase "take care" and its usage/implications by women has been documented in the past by TBR's Paully P.

CAPTAIN NO GAME

Its been a while bro's and viewers but I just completed my first Book, I don't know if anyone of you have ever tried to write a serious novel but it ain't easy. So I wanted to give you guys a glimpse, a little preview of what's inside this provocative piece of literature. Basically I have created a guide, a way to show all you bro's out there what not to do. You may be asking daveyboy what the fuck are you talking about. Well I don't know if you heard of the new controversial book called "The Game" by Neil Strauss, a book about the art of seducing the ladies, meeting those NY hotties, mind fucking them and then having them basically begging you to take them home.

Well I wrote a book called "NO GAME" that's right, bitches and I have plenty of tips of exact situations and things I have said in the past. You will find the exact method to have the ladies saying I need to go the restroom, or I gotta go. The art of no game is not about being a complete asshole and having a girl slap you in the face, its about what people call the failure to "close the deal"

Let's take last night for example;
So after what seemed like an hour contemplating stepping to these two young honies, finally after realizing that they were itching to talk to the bro's I approached the two young Swedish Gals and started to make a little small talk. Now the first lesson your are going to learn in "No Game" is instead of talking to the dope girl you go for the less attractive friend, and that's just what I did. Things were going alright, I kept her interested enough until one the bro's stepped in and he started chatting up the hot one.

So this is where you have to pay close attention, instead of being perceptively disinterested and heading out for a smoke or stepping a way for a while, you stay real close to the girl your talking to and keep chatting her up until you realize you have absolutely nothing in common. Then you try to place your hand on her back and look at her like she is the hottest bitch in the bar. Now here comes the kicker, instead of playing it cool and seeing how the night progresses, you make a real abrupt in your face comment like " What are you doing after this place, what do you say we go back to your place" This never fails, her response immediately is I gotta go to the bathroom.

For the rest of the amazing real life situations you can find my book coming out soon, in stores near you.
Peace, Daveyboy

WHO NEEDS A PRESCRIPTION WHEN U HAVE A PASSPORT

10 bucks for one little blue diamond pill is a head-hitter in the USA. If you want the real deal come on over to Amalfi, Italy and get you some. The old Italian chick will smile big as hell and get you a bag to load up as much as you want. Bless your tea with it, mix it in with your spaghetti sauce, you can even throw it on your pizza. However you take it you will be ready to rock for a couple of hours. Just don't try some while on a tour of the Amalfi Coast, you will be real uncomfortable on the ride home.

THAT DRUNK BOLT TO THE DOME

So i was in this cab with Evrocker on the way to the spot....and then i started to realize something.....Hold up. We've definitely been drinking for a while...First we were at that creepo spot on A, I had already punished an el Sombrero margaharita and Ev had a few scotches plus some of that weird koolaid white wine punch, sprinkle in a couple beers......... "Oh shit," I thought to myself. Then it all happened in slow motion: I looked up and saw it coming.... Diving, I tried to knock Evan out of the way as i yelled..."NOOOOOO LOOOOK OOOUTT!!!!!" But it was too late..................


KAAAAAAAAZZZZZZZZZZZZAAAAAAAAAM!!!!!!!!!!!!Dude got hit with that Drunk Lightning bolt and it was over. Huh? Drunk lightning bolt? Yeah ya jerk, a drunk bolt.....just like THIS. Dude was officially McTwisted for the rest of the night. Look at his eyes, his brain has been completely infiltrated by the twizzo. Another loss chalked up to the Drunk Bolt.

HAPPY ST. PATTY'S DAY

So it is March 17th: St. Patrick's Day. Apprantley this is the day St. Patrick brought Catholism to Ireland (Good looking out, dick!) ... But the real point of St. Patty's is to realize that most people who have Irish hertige are basically worthless ... I can say this cause I'm Irish, well not Irish, but Irish American, and I was recently told that I, as a heterosexual white man can only make fun of myself, so that's what I'll do. If you need proof that Irish people are terrible just go to the parade ... You will see dudes who are 1/64th Irish getting shitty and yelling, and just being all around dicks because that is the way you celebrate the culture of the Celts:You get real drunk and angry. I remember back in high school (where there were not a whole bunch of crackers, basically me, Joe and my man Jam 2, Ben) ... Oh, and there was my boy Brian but as he told us in high school "I'm not white, I'm Irish." and in many ways he was correct .... So I'd like to take this time to highlight one the worst Irish Americans (and that's saying something) William Donohue of the Catholic League ... This dude is a truly terrible human being Here is a brief summary of this dued's truly terrible beliefs, basically you have St. Patrick to thank for this Monster:

• Name for me a book publishing company in this country, particularly in New York, which would allow you to publish a book which would tell the truth about the gay death style. There are certain things that the left won't tolerate. They are censorial at heart. Indeed, the signature appetite of the left has always been power. Now, they are running up against the American people.
• Well, first they said it [The Passion of the Christ] was anti-Semitic. That didn't work. Then they said it was too violent. That didn't work. Then they said it was S & M. That didn't work. Then they said it was pornography. That didn't work. Now they're saying it's fascistic queer-bashing. That kind of language would ordinarily get somebody taken away in a straitjacket and -- put you in the asylum. I don't know what about -- the queer-bashing is all about. I'm pretty good about picking out who queers are and I didn't see any in the movie. I'm usually pretty good at that
• If love is the sole basis for marriage, then what gives society the right to deny a marriage license to Fred and Fido? Or, for that matter, to Sam and Sally, a brother-sister couple who - like in the movie 'The Dreamers' - love each other in a way most people find unnatural? Surely it is irrational to forbid incest! After all, we once made it illegal for whites to marry blacks, didn't we? So isn't it the same to deny Fred and Fido; Tom, Dick and Harry; and Sam and Sally? Wouldn't it be intolerant to say no to this happy trio of lovers? Isn't this what makes America great equal rights for those who commit bestiality, polygamy, sodomy and incest?
• I'm saying if a Catholic votes for Kerry because they support him on abortion rights that is to cooperate in evil
• Hollywood is controlled by secular Jews who hate Christianity in general and Catholicism in particular. It's not a secret, okay? And I'm not afraid to say it. ... Hollywood likes anal sex. They like to see the public square without nativity scenes. I like families. I like children. They like abortions.

Bro Tings Gwan

There was a time in this bros life when he could go out every night of the week and, basically did. You know, the job wasn’t too demanding, as a matter of fact, it demanded that I go out drinking (for reals!) and hang out with interesting, if sometimes self-important people. These days are over friends. Kids have fucked around and gotten real jobs (well some of us anyway) and now the only real option is to get set twisted on Friday nights. The secret is though, you’ve got to get so bent that the only thing you want to do is scream in the faces of your bros and leave weirdo freestyle voice mails on ex girlfriends phones while chain smoking in taxis. Like, no talking to girls until you are desperately trying to go home with one of them at 4 am. That shit is the best. It’s also incredibly embarrassing and leads to moments of anguish in between swigs of orange Gatorade (I see you paullyp) or that new raspberry lemonade jumpy mc jump off. So anyways, it’s Thursday and that means you will catch this kid at the bar tomorrow night, holding it down heavily. Come through, I’ll buy you a whiskey.

WORK PANTS, or Why you can never be too poor to NOT wear khakis.

The following report was filed by TBR contributer Thunder Dan. [who, for the record looks nothing like the jerkface pictured to the left.....at least not usually.]

Khakis a.k.a. chinos d.b.a. slacks--I don't give a fuck what you call them, I'm never wearing them again. I don't care if they have a flatfront and aren't pleated at the bottom. They look like shit. Coincidentally, PaullyP swears that his high school khaki game was fresh but I didn't know that Bro back then and he's a liar anyhow. Let me explain: These two dudes I work with wore them with their everyguy blue button down shirts on Monday. These dudes looked like straight Blockbuster Video managers, and Bro, they got clowned, as expected.
ME: Do you have the new Townes Van Zandt documentary in stock yet?
THEM: (not amused)
You can't look cool in khakis. My business casual game is weak too, but at least I USUALLY have the decency to put on a pair of fake suit pants [unwashed, I only own two pairs and I ROTATE them daily. Too bad one of them has pinstripes and I got called out the other day-- a la PaullyP's one pair of Levi's (no homo despite the two PP references.)] So, since I have the memory of an NFL cornerback (realshort term, so you forget that you got burned the last play. Its crazy isn't it???- Those guys get beat nine times out of ten, and still come back to the line like they are KING SHIT. Totally confident that they are picking off that next pass...but, I digress) I thought I'd switch it up Wednesday and try my luck with my only pair. I dusted off those 100% cotton motherfuckers and I was so fucking certain that I could pull it off. Let me hit you with the stats: 1) They were a dark dark grey (so I figured I wasn't risking the Blockbuster look); 2) They had 'cool' back pockets (you know, cargo pants style---no, not with the cargo side pockets, you can't wear those to a law firm, silly Bro.) 3) No pleats; 4) No cuffs. I thought I was CASH. Nope. I got straight clowned by everyone. One lawyer told me I looked like I was wearing chaps. She printed out a picture of a cowboy and folded it across my keyboard when I went to the bathroom. Never again. Fuck khakis. I hate you the gap.

Subject: Penelope Cruz

This is an email I recieved from my boy a couple of weeks back and I'd thought I'd share it with the TBR audience:

no but seriously do you think she'll marry me? i mean, she's fine and rich, and i have no job, no money, no car that isn't my mom's, no self-love unless it involves lotion, i drink too much, i brush my teeth 5 times a week max, my heart is 64% hate and the rest is indifference, when people talk about "careers" i assume its a joke, wear the same underwear 3 days straight fairly often, as i get older it takes fucking forever to get that last little drop of pee out so mostly i opt for a little drip in the drawers, i've asked out a high school student... as a 25 year old man, once when i tried to quit smoking i was going nuts so i smoked the butts out of a public ashtray, i've been in a million fights as a kid but won maybe 2, i'm afraid of people and physical contact, i have an average to nicely plump dick but it shaped a little weird, i have no hair on my chest except around the nips, i pee in the pool still, my mom still calls me "bubba", my farts are fucking raw , just maybe 4 months ago i let one rip when i was drunk but it was a little more than a fart, i have contemplated saying fuck it and just being homeless, i have gotten multiple strippers numbers but either not had the balls or lost their number before i could call, my dad can still beat me armwrestling and he's 60, i mean WHAT MORE COULD A WOMAN WANT?!!?!?!?!?!?!??!!?!?!?!?!?

The Replacments - Beer for Breakfest

The Replacments - Beer for Breakest

NINO BROWN IS REAL BLACK

Sorry bro, I don’t fuck with that weed anymore. You will not catch kids named PaullyP smoking trees these days. I mean, I wasn’t KILLING those crondoules back in the day like other bros we know, but kids definitely took many a blunt to the face. Anyway, my aversion to weed all stems from one summer night about five years ago. Yeah, kids were about 20 years old back then, trying to finesse themselves into parties they didn’t belong…shit was kinda sweet. So this one night my boy and I decide to bless some party with our presence, but before we go, we come up with the genius idea of smoking that giganto blunt to the face. Needless to say kids are real traumatized, and straight stagger into a party where the first person I see is Wesley Snipes looking like a pair of floating teeth sippin Crown Royal on the rocks. Somehow I manage to bump into a few other people I know and I’m kickin it pretty hard. Of course, ten minutes later that weed hits my head like a bat to the dome and my lips straight disappear into my mouth searching for some water. I was parched as a motherfucker, eyes blood red, and just swerving, trying to figure out how my man Wesley Snipes could even see his hands. Traumed off my ass, I notice that some girl standing right next to me is straight GRILLING me. It takes me about twenty minutes to realize that this little girl rubbing shoulders with me is none other than the unnaturally perfect Natalie Portman (who happens to be best friends with a girl i went to college with). What happens next? Well…..i’m a smooth type of dude, so I turn to her and just give her that super scary ICE GRILL…a look that, as I’ve been told, looked like the combination of me smiling, crying and sleeping all at the same time. After about 2 minutes of grill time, she looks back up at me, rolls her eyes and quickly exits the area. Did I stop staring?…NO…Did I think I still had a chance? YEAH….I was like, “hey, HEEEEYYY….I KNOOOW YOOOUUU…YO, No?, Yeah..word…”. Meanwhile about 5 people are laughing there ass off right behind me as I unroll my lips from the back of my mouth and take a sip of whatever type of drank I was holding. Basically, don’t come at me with that I can’t believe you don’t smoke weed shit. WORD, you got that dope weed?? Oh, your man got that sick hookup with so and so??? Do I want to smoke that weed with you???? FUCK YOU BRO! I think Natalie is chilling in the LUWS tonight and I gots to keep my head straight.

POWELL

we need more of this shit.

DUNK CONTEST JUDGES CAN'T ADD EH?

Including this year's Dunk Contest's disputed results, have you ever noticed that no matter what the level of play, be it high school, college or pros, indoor or outdoor - whenever there's a dunk contest and some dude pulls some rad boof out of his rad boof bag of tricks, the judges are always scrambling like a bunch of 'tards trying to figure out how to make a number bigger than 10. They're like: "yo son, if i put up a 1 and a 1 i got eleven yo..," "nah, nah b, i'ma put a 5 after a 1 and make 15 yo," "oooooohhh!!!!" "Dammnnnnn son that number is way bigger than 10!!!!!" Anyway, this video shows a bunch of dudes tryin to figure out how to make big numbers at the end of a dunk contest. It also shows a 6' 5" white dude doing a windmill dunk while jumping over some fools head. But thats not the illest part. Neither is the two foot left handed jammy from a half a step inside the foul line...the craziest thing about it all? Dude is Canadian.
Check it out: http://www.hooplife.ca/viewclip.asp?clipid=9

WHY I DON’T WORK WITH THE POOP POOR VOLUME 1
I have lived in this god forsaken city for my entire life and therefore [unfortunately] been in a lot of subway stations. I’ve probably spent a good 5 years of my life underground if you tallied it all up. And I swear, there is not a more disgusting subway station than the 103rd street and Broadway stop. Don’t roll your eyes fuckface, let me explain. The 103rd stop has at any particular time no less than 6 cracked out homeless dudes sprawled over as many bench seats as possible. They aren’t your blues singin’ – bucket banging jolly homeless dudes. These motherfuckers are: The covered in birdshit, no shoe wearing, giant sore having, ornery, booger licking, strange growth picking, loogie hocking, hysterically cackling, crackhead pooping kind of homeless dudes. I guess everyone on the west side is too fucking liberal or lazy to get the cops or a fire hose and get these fucks out of the station; so instead, they just run the joint. Yesterday morning I had one of the most terrifying experiences of my life at the aforementioned station. I was running a bit late and wandered down the platform to avoid the mid car crush. I could see that at the very end of the platform this homeless dude had scattered all his filthy belongings on the floor and was kind of huddling behind the garbage bags, chicken wings, newspapers and station columns. “I’m sure he’s doing something positive down there,” I thought. So then I hear the tracks screeching, and that familiar breeze starts to go through the station alerting all to the arriving train. Well, let me tell you. I barely even felt that breeze before I heard a frighteningly horrific scream….i turned and saw about 20 people running towards me, away from the approaching train and back towards the middle of the platform, it was a stampede.…. “LORD JESUS, NO!!!!”- A woman screamed as she covered her nose. Grown men welled up with tears as they rushed by me…What the Fuck? All I could do was partially turn and catch a glimpse of a squatting homeless dudes gross butt cheek before the illest, most foul, rancid smell I have ever, ever ever ever ever experienced overcame me….my knees buckled, my eyes rolled and my stomach heaved. Think danny…think. My brain finally found some spare oxygen- run. RUN YOU FOOL!!!!! The station was being consumed by the smell.....I sprinted back towards the other end of the platform as the rest of the awaiting passengers frantically followed…. A train pulled up and I quickly ducked in, finally able to inhale…. Honestly. I don’t know if the others made it. Women. Children. The elderly. They were all so helpless. Sweet Jesus they’re probably gone.

White People Are Crazy: Mixtape Volume 2

I admit it, I’m terrified of white-people. Yes, I’m white, but that doesn’t change the fact that I think my people are straight wild. Please believe that I’m much more shook off some white-dude in a suit than homeboy on the corner of 1-2-5 with an oversized white-tee. At least little man on the corner isn't conspiring against generations of PaullyP's, ruining the global economy and clubbing baby seals, all he's trying to do is a sell a few dime bags and MAYBE snuff a few white-boys like myself…I say MAYBE…cause I’m stupid quick, so I doubt little man can see me. But anyway, I know what you’re thinking, you’re like, “what if a black dude is rocking a suit, is he more terrifying than a white dude in a suit? But that’s simple… of course not, white dudes will never let a black dude into their inner circle of evil: black people are perpetually stuck in the minor leagues of evilness…white people got that shit on lock; They might let a few black dudes rock suits , but they’ll never get that all-access evil pass. I know you’re also thinking, damn Paul, Candyman is kinda ill, and he’s black! But honestly, you really think Candyman can see my man Freddy Kruger…I mean he might duff out that herb Jason…but FREDDY???? Chill, Freddy gets up in your dreams….that’s right, you’re motherfuckin dreams. You might be thinking, what if I didn’t fall asleep, then Freddy couldn’t get me, but that dude Candyman might still be able to merc me out. Sorry bro, your logic is oh so flawed…watch Freddy one through five again…nobody can stay awake that long….nobody….nobody...

I'LL WAX ANYBODY

Honestly son, you don't want it with Talihan ... at least when it comes to googling. I will straight debow anybody when it comes to googling. If that joint is on the internet I will find it, godbody. I'm sick with it doggie. You do not want to metaphorically "shoot the five" with me cause you will get broke. Choose anything bro: a video of the band Fear on SNL in 1981, the disability rate in the Bronx, a picture of a celebrity's nipple, the median income in France, that video of the autistic basketball player, that fat German kid wildin at his computer ... If I was China I'd still find info on Demoracy, and what!

And you will surely get merked. I will find that joint faster than anybody, so whatever you can beat my ass, beat me in any sport, are smarter than me ... I could give a fu