MRod says: Is the crew ready? Like spaghetti.

(Via)

The kick to the groin (never to be underestimated) looks to be the most efficient–altho jabbing the person with the receipt pin appears effective too…if you want to KILL the other person.  Although, on second thought, stabbing a person through the frontal cortex with the receipt holder is acceptable punishment for anyone who looks towards Kryptonite’s way.

I’m hating that Flickr–the repository of my photos–is making “old skool” users (those who joined prior to Yahoo’s purchase of Flickr) get rid of their existing logins and instead forcing us to use a Yahoo one.  A big boo to that.  Now I have to use my “HotAZNStuff@yahoo.com” account as my Flickr login.

Damn the Man.

So Notorious MSG is performing on Saturday, Feb. 17th at hipster haven Pianos and this rice eating blogger is stoked! I saw them perform with Nick (who nearly started a couple fights that night–good times, Nick! Haha) and Kaizar a while back at the now defunct CBGB. It was a pretty badass show.

Who is The Notorious MSG? The Grey Lady of the Times had a write up about them, unfortunately you have to be a snooty “Times Select” member to see it now, so I’m going to cut-and-paste from their website:

Blasting out of the streets of Chinatown, THE NOTORIOUS MSG have arrived with a vengeance. Serving up deep-fried beats straight from the Chinese ghetto, they will not stop until they achieve complete world domination.

This is the story of three renegade restaurant workers from the hardened streets of Chinatown, New York City. Pursuing their dreams of rap superstardom, Hong Kong Fever, Down-Lo Mein and The Hunan Bomb fled the harsh ghettos of Asia only to face more hardships as second-class citizens in America. They struggled to earn a living, toiling in the kitchens and risking their lives as Chinese restaurant delivery boys. Facing robberies and beatings on a daily basis, their fight for survival came to a head when an unknown assailant killed one of their original band members, Funky Buddha. This was the last straw; it was time to fight back.

Rising up with a fury, the trio were reborn and The Notorious MSG exploded onto the NYC music scene with a new calling. Once only fighting to defend themselves, they renewed their fight, this time for all their brothers and sisters in the Chinatown ghettos who would never get the chance to realize their dreams

Along with hard raps about Mott Street and sensitive ballads to a certain special Dim Sum Girl, they also bring it on stage where soy sauce is imbibed like a 40 and egg rolls are smoked like a blunt.

Anyway, as Tom Cruise said, “Who’s coming with me?!” (Tickets are five bucks. Friends, let me know if you are interested.)

I (unintentionally) made my roommate Kristin cry today.

I don’t know the power of my own narrative.

(Via)

An iguana at a zoo in Brussels had his penis amputated (Guys, did you just cross your legs when you read that?  Because I totally did…and I think I even cried a little) by vets because he was “suffering” from a permanent hard-on.

Zoo officials decided on the operation after keepers called in experts when they saw the iguana was in some discomfort, and having trouble walking because of the permanent erection.

Remedies from cold water to introducing female iguanas into his enclosure all failed and it was decided that an operation was the only solution to the problem.

But losing a schlong is no big deal for this iguana (”Mozart”).  Why?  Because male iguanas apparently have two of ‘em love making tools.  But, I’d be keeping it realll platonic for awhile if I was that Mozart, now that he’s down to his spare tire, so to speak.

This Alaskan is kinda stoked to see it snowing–not that light puny snow, but the big snowflake shit–outside his Brooklyn apartment window right now. But then I’m kinda pissed that it didn’t snow on Friday/Saturday before I went snowboarding.

Here’s the view from my window at the moment:

Okay, maybe not (it’s actually from my ‘rents house in Alaska), but I’m hoping that’s what it’ll look like when I wake up in 8 hours.

(Via)

An entire wedding cast reenacts MJ’s Thriller or otherwise known as a buncha white people moving along to something that sorta resembles MJ’s Thriller music video.

And here’s the version from Final Fantasy, which is a little better but that CGI kinda creeps me out a little, but not quite in that uncanny valley way:

Lastly, for comparison, here’s the timeless original:

God damn, that MJ was the hot shit back in the day.  This is one of my favoriteist music videos ever.

I think the people that participate in this event pretty much deserve one another.  There’s a speed dating event next week where the requirements for participants are such: Guys, be rich and girls, be hot. How rich? Like a minimum of $200,000 salary (more depending on age), assest over $1 million, and at least a $4 million trust–with documents to back it up.

And the prospective girls must submit 5 photos for ‘hotness’ review.

Sweet. A killer stock portfolio and glamour shots. That is love.

Check it out here.

I went to a launch party for YRB Magazine on Thursday night, although to be honest, if it weren’t for the open bar, I probably would not have gone. I definitely needed a drink that day after work.

Cab ride over to Manor.

I spent the cab ride perfecting the narcissistic art of taking completely unflattering self-portraits. I give this one a 8 out of 10.

Munira showing off her non-engagement ring.

Hey, it’s Lauren! It’s something about open bars that brings people out.

Chris and his cuz Sophia are like, “YEA! DRINKING! WOOHOO!”

Don’t try this at home, kids: Jumping while holding an open container in a crowded bar.

Once the open bar ended and Manor reverted back to its 12 dollar drinks, we all peace’d out, but some decided to do some jumps in the frigid NYC night.

Sophia jumps out of the frame of the photo, while wearing heels. THAT is gangsta.

And then we went to Corner Bistro!

Note the lipstick stain on Cy. Haha.

Water with tomato and fry?

“Yes, please.”

The look of pain is because Corner Bistro is SO GOOD. I didn’t think I drank very much that night, but apparently I did because when I got home, I peace’d the fuck out and passed out.

My tailbone hurts.

My biceps are sore.

My knees ache.

And my thumb joint throbs.

(more…)