We did it relatively quickly, cutting at the joints. There was really no blood left because it had dried. Freez sprayed Calvin Klein’s Eternity all over the bathroom to disguise the smell, which was ironic.
That night, we put the legs in a duffel bag and threw it into the river by the Intrepid around 4 a.m.
Then we put the torso and head in a TV box and took it down to the Hudson at 26th Street.
We were crazy paranoid the whole time. I kept imagining the police were coming, scrambling helicopters and hunting us down with giant searchlights.
To be honest, though, I was less terrified about being caught than going to hell.
We’re deep in the Stanley Cup Playoffs, and of course that means playoff beards. Of course Brendan’s beard apparently killed him. They went camping over the weekend, and Faith apparently killed him with her womanly wiles. So you are stuck with me mourning for this asshole.
Because this are half the hosts, here is half a podcast. We mourn Brendan with Haujobb’s remix of :wumpscut:’s “Die In Winter”. Then we celebrate with Kevorkian Death Cycle’s cover of Pet Shop Boys’ “It’s a Sin”. Then we honor Brendan and his meat is murder ethos with Skinny Puppy’s “Testure”.
It’s no secret that I’ve been on an industrial music kick recently. One look at my Last.Fm profile is the most damning evidence of this.
One of the relics from my industrial past was There Is No Time, a four-disc compilation from RAS DVA records when I was first starting to get into the music. Pre-internet this was perhaps the only way to sample music from unheard bands since the radio wasn’t playing it and if you were too young to get into clubs. So when I saw this at Vinyl Fetish on Melrose, I snatched it.
A lot of bands on this comp have long come and gone, but there were mainstays like Leaetherstrip, :wumpscut:, X Marks the Pedwalk, Suicide Commando and Haujobb. So I polished this sucker off and listened to the whole thing yesterday, and amazingly enough it holds up pretty well nearly 20 years later.
I hope Ric gets better. For someone who has given a lot of joy to be dealt with this hand, it really saddens me. It’s further proof that the concept of fairness does not exist outside our imaginations.
Bruce LaBruce music video for Gio Black Peter. Stolen from Pas un autre
Existence, as we know it, is full of sorrow. To mention only one minor point: every man is a condemned criminal, only he does not know the date of his execution. This is unpleasant for every man. Consequently every man does everything possible to postpone the date, and would sacrifice anything that he has if he could reverse the sentence.
I spend the weekend minding my own business, listening to industrial music almost non-stop while reading filth. Of course I had Twitter on in the background, and the uprising I saw yesterday was quite something when Michael Sam was drafted by the St. Louis Rams in the seventh round.
Most people I follow and have on lists celebrated the pick as they should. It is huge for an openly gay athlete to finally break through. ESPN had a camera at his house, and Sam’s reaction to being selected even brought me to tears:
Of course there was negative reaction from some of those in Straight America who doesn’t want to see two men kissing. Now they get to experience what I experience when I see the heterosexual abomination of the football player kissing the pretty girl. It really is stomach churning when I see a boy and a girl kiss. Just the thought of it sends shivers down my spine that seem to settle in the pit of my stomach that tried to force the regurgitation of my lunch.
There are also those who think Sam is getting way too much attention. After all he’s a seventh-round pick, they contend. Just because he’s gay it shouldn’t matter, they add.
If only the real world was as pleasant as the utopia in their heads. Yes he’s getting all the attention because he’s gay. He broke through the glass ceiling.
Sam should be celebrated as should the Rams. And I’m happy. But there is still one thing that is bugging me about this.
Here is every SEC defensive player of the year and where they were drafted by the NFL:
When Sam came out, we heard how he was overrated and all of that nonsense that executives and general managers used to veil their homophobia.
I guess I should be happy that Jeff Fisher and the Rams did this, happy that we were thrown the bone. But I wonder if Sam is really a worse defensive end than Zach Moore from Division II Concordia of St. Paul who was draft at the end of the sixth round (198 overall) by the Patriots? Or Larry Webster III of the Division II Bloomsburg University of Pennsylvania, drafted in the fourth round (138 overall) by the Detroit Lions? Or his fellow linemate Kony Ealy at Mizzou who was drafted by the Carolina Panthers in the second round with the 60th overall pick?
I get that the draft is a crapshoot, that most of the players selected will be busts. Hell, Sam could wind up being a bust. But there is something telling about all 32 teams leaving the reigning SEC defensive player of the year dangling until being a compensatory pick of the seventh round.
I don’t know what to say. I know this podcast is not meant for children, but we may have just crossed the line on this one. We don’t mean any harm — after all, sometimes you have to laugh through some ugly shit. But some people might misconstrue why we are laughing hysterically at certain things. Like when I say that someone looks like an AIDS patient pre-Kaposi’s sarcoma sores.
I guess if there’s anything to blame, here it is:
A variation of the salty dog that Brendan made: a traditional gin and grapefruit juice in a salt-rimmed glass. But Brendan added rosemary and a habanero syrup that gave it a little kick.
In this episode I yell at Brendan for being an asshole, learning Brendan’s mom listens to us, EDM as the new Jock Jamz, a guide for kids taking drugs, some really offensive stuff, Donald Sterling and racism, I bemoan the fact I never had my shit together so as to become a teenage hooker at exclusive Hollywood producers’ parties, Courtney Love, Kim Deal, horse racing, pari-mutuel gambling, Rob Ford sex tape?, frothing of the muzzle and a whole bunch of other drunken nonsense.
The music featured are Air Supply’s “All Out of Love” with a cameo from Snoop Dog, Aphex Twin’s “Windowlicker”, Hole’s “Teenage Whore” and Pleasure Forever’s “Goodnight”.
Again, if you’re sensitive about shit, don’t even bother.
I don’t know what the circumstances were, but I was watching the television as they counted down when the blast would occur. I happened to have a lead-lined suitcase in the middle of my bedroom and did my best to squeeze into the cramped quarters as the news anchor counted down. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1.
Silence. Nothing. I emerged from the suitcase, checked on my grandmother and went to the bathroom to take a piss. It was then that I woke up because I had to take a piss.
When I got back to bed I couldn’t go back to sleep. It wasn’t a nightmare because I wasn’t particularly upset about the end of the world. Eventually I wound up masturbating then fell right asleep.
Now, it’s hot , and I’m tired. But I bought some ginger ale days after I had a hankering for some soda pop. I feel a bit better now.
In Game 2, the Kings hoped to capitalize on their scrappy third period of Game 1 when they scored three times to cut their deficit to 5-3. The Sharks eventually scored an empty-netter for the 6-3 Game 1 victory at home. But when the Kings jumped out to a 2-0 lead in the first period of Game 2, things looked optimistic. After all, the Sharks had pretty much outplayed the Kings during that first period, and Jonathan Quick made some pretty epic saves.
After the 17-minute intermission, the Sharks continued where they left off and the Kings jumped into the abyss. Mike Brown. Raffi Torres. Justin Braun. The Sharks then took the 3-2 lead going into the second intermission. Then in the third period the bigger guys weighed in: Patrick Marleau, Joe Pavelski, Logan Couture, Joe Thornton.
After the Dodger Stadium game I thought the Kings were done. They're done.
After their Game 3 loss Game 4 looked like a mere formality, but something funny happened along the way to a San Jose sweep. Rather than trying to bully the Sharks into submission which obviously hadn’t worked to that point, the Kings decided to go back to their game. Sure there were still hard hits, but they made sure to refocus on trying to get their forecheck going, to stop turning over pucks in their own zone, to limit the Sharks odd-man rushes that led to that 7-2 drubbing in Game 2.
As the Kings kept winning, the recurring question about the Sharks during the playoffs came up. And it crescendoed in Game 7 last night: how do they shrink and shrink as the spotlight gets brighter and brighter? Head coach Todd McClellan will probably take the fall. General manager Doug Wilson will probably keep his job. But that team as constituted with Joe Thornton, Joe Pavelski and Patrick Marleau cannot return. Barring runs to the Western Conference Finals in 2010 and 2011, this team has proven they can’t win in the postseason.
The Kings, meanwhile, joined the likes of 1942 Maple Leafs, 1975 New York Islanders, 2004 Boston Red Sox and the 2010 Philadelphia Flyers as teams who have completed reverse-sweeps in a best-of-seven-games series. And they won the game despite the Sharks scoring first. Before yesterday’s triple-header of Game 7s, the last 16 Game 7s were won by the team who scored first. The last team to come from behind in a Game 7 to win: those 2010 Philadelphia Flyers who overcame a 3-0 Boston Bruins lead.
Now comes another bit of history: the first ever Freeway Series in the playoffs between the Ducks and the Kings. On paper the Ducks should win, but then again so should the Sharks have won. There will be a lot of space wasted in deep analysis, the goalie matchup, the forwards, the stars, the whatevers. It’s an exercise in futility, and frankly those who do it are complete idiots.
Simply put, I like the Kings to dispatch the Ducks in six games en route to their third consecutive conference final berth.
Bereft of advertisers, the scoreboad promotes only Clippers pride and unity during game 5 of the NBA Western Conference playoffs at Staples Center. (Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times)
Little did I think after I wrote my little diatribe against Donald Tokowitz Sterling Friday morning that the shit would hit the fan that night. But it did, and the words “banned for life,” uttered by commissioner Adam Silver Monday morning has opened the way to a forced removal of the Donald.
Bomani Jones has been the most eloquent voice in this whole shitstorm, and I’ll just present his conversation with Dan LeBatard on Monday as the definitive cheat sheet on this mess:
While it’s nice that people are acknowledging racism still exists despite a lot of white folks saying this was a post-racial world after Obama’s election. But Bomani is correct. This is a pretty stupid thing to be mad at. How about the inherent racism of the death penalty especially in Oklahoma where they can’t even get it right.
Nonetheless, here we were at Game 5 between the Clippers and the Warriors with the series tied 2-2. Had Silver not thrown the book, the anthology and the whole damn library at the Donald, the San Jose Mercury News detailed a plan by the Warriors for a dramatic boycott. The Warriors would have gone through the normal pregame rituals, and once the ball was jumped for the opening tip, the team would have walked out en masse while the ball was descending back to the ground. In fact, as Roger Mason told the media in Los Angeles earlier in the afternoon, all six teams playing yesterday would have boycotted yesterday’s games had Silver not done what he done.
The Clippers looked drained and a step slow during Game 4 in Oakland the day after the shit hit the fan. They certainly looked better to start this game getting out to a 31-21 first quarter lead. After the game Doc Rivers said that his was still a step slow, that during fast breaks in transition DeAndre Jordan and Blake Griffin were panting still behind the time line in the back court. Hell, he had to use all of his second half timeouts in order to get his guys some rest.
But it seemed the person most unburdened was DeAndre Jordan. In Game 4 he didn’t have a single point in 25 minutes played and managed only six rebounds. Last night? A career playoff high 25 points in 38 minutes played with 18 rebounds, six of them on the offensive glass.
After the game he told Brad Turner of the LA Times, “I felt like that just took our minds off of what has been going on,” Jordan said. “I feel like we get a lot of [stuff] from our family and our friends.
“It’s never going to go away. But I feel like it was definitely a weight lifted off our shoulders so we can just continue to focus on playing basketball.”
DJ might have been physically tired but not exhausted enough to not be in the middle of everything. As the Warriors tried to claw their way back late in the game, there was DJ on the bottom of the scrum after Stephen Curry was once again lackadaisical with the ball (he had eight turnovers), got the ball to Blake Griffin who outletted the ball to Jamal Crawford for an easy transition dunk.
The Clippers left the arena with the 113-103 win, a 3-2 lead in the series and it seemed like everyone could exhale for a second. Perhaps everyone could get a good night sleep (or as good as one can get in the middle of the playoffs.)
For me, it was a strange night. After years of wanting to root for the team but pulling back because of the specter of the Donald, I felt that for the first time I didn’t have to feel guilty about wanting the Clippers to do well. And I have to admit it felt a bit liberating.
The “Sandley Cup”, a sand sculpture of the Stanley Cup made for the Kings playoff run in 2012.
I was shocked when the Kings won Game 4 at home. The Kings were on their way to getting swept by the San Jose Sharks in their first round series, and I had them losing 4-1. The Kings won 6-3 keeping their season alive. I went to Twitter to confess my sins and got this response:
@JimmyBramlett To make up for this I feel you should do a Kings edition “Blowjob, Handjob & Anal” thing.
Due to laziness I didn’t do it that night, but I maintained that if they won Game 5 I’d do it.
Here we are. The Kings beat the Sharks 3-0 in what Darryl Sutter termed “The Cage”. The Kings still trail the series 3-2, but that light at the end of the tunnel is looking less like a train as each shift passes.
The first two games in San Jose, the Kings lost by a combined score of 13-5. They were thoroughly outplayed and looked much like the team I saw lose to the Ducks at Dodger Stadium 3-0, my final game for LAist. Tonight, the Kings were the ones who outplayed the opponent. All of a sudden, they look like the team that could do damage in the playoffs.
Handjob – Jake Muzzin. He didn’t show up on the score sheet in Game 5, but he has two goals and an assist in this series. He also is one of the few Kings players with a positive +/- rating with a +3. His efforts on the blue line do get overlooked at times, but he is one the reasons the Kings haven’t hurt with the loss of Rob Scuderi.
Blowjob – Jonathan Quick. A lot of people were questioning him after the first two games. But anyone who watched the games knew that most of the problems were the players in front of him. It’s hard to be perfect when the players in front you look lost and are chasing their tails for 40 minutes.
Here in Game 5 in San Jose, Quick pitched a shutout with 30 saves. If you want to look at the big reason why the Kings are still in this series, you can look no further than who’s minding the net. Normally this would deserve some anal action, but he’s really boring as fuck. My pubic hair has more personality than what he shows to the media.
Of course, that’s not what is required of him. All he really needs to concern himself with is being a top-notch goaltender.
Anal – Jeff Carter. Okay, Carter hasn’t looked his best in this series, although he did score the Kings’ third goal tonight on the power play. But look at him.
Original image on Hockey Gods.
Even with his missing teeth I’d let him fuck me any time. And yes, I had to black out the bikini clad girls who were originally in the photo because I just couldn’t handle it. I can barely stand that he has a gorgeous girlfriend.
I guess it was just as well that he hardly ever talked to the media post game because my heart probably would have seized up on me. It’s hard enough for me to ask a question that will elicit something more than the mindless media-safe drivel we normally get from athletes. But to do that while repeating the mantra “be still my beating heart” silently? Pfft.
