Terry Richardson shot some of the cast of the Jersey Shore. Here are a few funnies.
Here is some genius (via Amanda, my friend with the goodest eye). How could you not like Pauly D? He's the cutest and he ends up with his stalker. Aw, Pauly, I heart you.
On a similar in some way note, I spent last Tuesday sick and watching Amanda's healing box set of My So-Called Life, and now look who was reunited: Angela Chase and Jordan Catalano!
It's kind of incredible how good looking Jared Leto was and still is, but his getup is tragic. I know it's his new "thing," but come on, Jared, you're like the dreamiest guy ever for my age group. Get it together! Who am I going to picture when I'm having my Catalano fantasy? I guess I'll have to default to Daniel Desario. Second best is never best.
I don’t care what you guys think of me and this post. I'm grieving the loss of something I handled daily, something that was a hugely integral part of my everyday life. I really miss my stolen (and/or lost) Burberry scarf and I think the whole world (or all 5 of you) needs to know the sad story of my, now former, second favorite accessory. I'm going to begin with a short backstory.
When I was in my mid-twenties, I lived in New York for a year. The experience was more than stressful thanks to an unsupportive boyfriend who later dumped me, a really neat, but filthy apartment in the ghettos of West Harlem and a sales job that sent me to New England two weeks out of every summer month... and those were just the small tortures. I loved and hated my working time on the road. It meant I had to leave my cat with an unpredictable partner or with my friends. I was away from the City, on the road alone in strange places like White River Junction (that's right, Vermonters, strange) for days at a time. I believed it was worth the discomfort because I’d soon be able to visit a place on someone else's dime that I’d always only dreamed of: Maine.
For those of you who grew up in New England, you might say, Maine? Moose and rednecks? Whatever, yes, but I was thinking more Cabot Cove, majestic lighthouses and cliffs overlooking an angry Atlantic Ocean. When I finally made it to Maine, I upgraded to a convertible and set out to explore. It was a great trip which actually coincided for a few hours with my aunt, uncle and cousin’s journey up to Prince Edward Island and included a morning drive through heavenly Mount Desert Island. I made a friend in cool but quaint Portland and I saw forests, cliffs and ocean. It was all I’d hoped for and more.
Downtown Freeport, Maine, is basically an outlet mall, a very fancy, upscale outlet mall. It was there that I met my beloved Burberry scarf, a cashmere, blue and charcoal beauty. I purchased it at a small fraction of the full price to celebrate that I made it to Maine. Was it love at first sight? No, I had to call my best friend in London and ask his opinion between two, but after consulting, I knew it was my perfect match.
I wore that scarf for years and traveled the globe with it. I wore it when I drove the country last spring; I wore it from Berlin to Block Island, London to Las Cruces. It was my constant companion. I never once misplaced or lost it, not until this October in Los Angeles.
I don’t want to talk trash about L.A., because I love it there and I especially love my friends there. I would move there. It's tops. But one night on my last trip there, we ate a delicious dinner at The Bazaar and drank and chatted at Verdugo Bar, but because of my jet lag and from flying straight there from DC the week prior, something terrible happened. I remember a voice earlier in the night saying – I’ll hold your scarf, someone might steal it. And then someone did.
I don’t know when it happened, not the exact moment, at least. The scarf was my constant companion, so I didn't know what that lack felt like, that terrible, scarf-less existence. At one point, I did notice I wasn't wearing it, but thought I left it in my suitcase. After all the wasted attempts at searching, my hope waned, my faith fell away, I realized it was gone.
A minute ago, I saw a Burberry scarf online and I got a headache just thinking about my old trusty accoutrement. I know I get too attached to particular worldly possessions, but I’m not a Buddhist. Anyway, getting attached to something of quality saves me money, and therefore I am better able to love Mama Earth. I don't need hundreds of the same same item in different colors, I just need that one wonderful item. Less is more, amigos and amigas.
The theft of my scarf has put a genuine damper on my entire life. I beg you, if you see someone in the Los Angeles area wearing the scarf pictured below, please punch them in the face and get my scarf back. I will forever be in your debt.
That look is the sadness I felt because part of me knew that my love wasn't enough, and that one day, I would lose my favorite scarf.
Dino sang a Nirvana cover from the drums, a la Genesis.
Snuggie Pub Crawl!!! When I got there, one of the chick's purses got stolen, which put a damper on the evening. Luckily we snugged it out and hit up the Deuce and T-Mex (San Loco). It was good. Don't you just wanna snug us?
Tonight is a pretty hot night for music in Miami, if you're me and/or you think like me. I'm super psyched to hit up the smelliest place in Miami tonight (or maybe any night, for that matter). The dirtiest noise boys will be descending upon Churchill's for the International Noise Conference. Expect some of Miami and international noise music bests, including Dino Felipe and Amanda Green. Looks like tonight's performances will be mostly Miami-folk, tomorrow - Tampa-ites and Saturday - the rest of America.
It'll be a blast. While you're over there trying to get laid by a filthy midwestern teenager, make sure to hit up Sweat Records, right next door, where Pocket of Lollipops will be performing. Doors open at 8 and there's no cover, thus no excuses.
Lauren Conrad will be at Books and Books later today. I really want to go because I see something in LC that I just can't explain. Sure she appears vacuous, but I think there's something behind that demure silence that could be human. Maybe it's just her cute, Marsha Brady look that make me like her. I guess everyone at B&B will find out the truth about LC tonight, or maybe not. If you attend, I'd love a signed copy (thanks in advance).
Also, this Friday, I'll be participating in a Snuggie pub crawl. I, like the rest of America, received a (pink) Snuggie from my mother this holiday season. I say season because my mom got the last one on super-sale at CVS way after X-mas and thought I might want one. It's sort of like when she bought me Z. Cavariccis in high school, well after they were on clearance at Ross. The message behind the Snuggie crawl is not clear, so I'll assign one now. It's important to stay warm and comfy, with free hands, while drinking. I hope we look like an intoxicated cult and that people will spot us from their windows and join us with their Snuggies in our adventure.
After the crawl, on to enjoy Fire and Ice at the gay, neighborhood bar Vlada. It's Valentine's weekend, so I kinda hope some of you find that desperate someone to hook up with at the bar on this holiday of deep disappointment. Maybe that person will look like this, but without those scary sandals:
Scroll down to see one of the bestest Miami artists, you guessed it, it's Jen Stark.
Snooki from Jersey Shore interviewed Phoenix (video here). She's kind of cute (kind of) but entirely out of touch and ridiculous. She also interviews Judas Priest - doesn't know who they are, but they know who she is! For the love of God, reality TV has warped all of our realities.
Roadside America mentions some guy from Miami names Guillermo Socarras who apparently wants to build a bunch of skyscrapers on Jungle Island, calling it Miapolis. What a name! I love it.
Miami, bro attended Wednesday night's experimental performance, Tribute: A Summoning, an homage to Joe Meek, music producer. I'm always thrilled when there is something neat I can attend on a week night in my neighborhood, and thankfully, this took place nearby in Wynwood at the Center for Visual Communication. It was choreographed by Ana Mendez, a lovely, lithe, little lady who makes me wish I actually took dance class seriously when I was young, before I remember how much grace I lack and how incredibly clumsy I am. It wsa quite an awesome, well-attended performance with a wonderful soundtrack by sound installation artist Richard Vergez.
On to me for a second. I hate warehouses. I know it's not "cool" to feel this way, but I hate them. Can't anyone knock a window or two into the walls? I get it, the closed spaces are good for performances, but more than once on Wednesday, talk of the Great White ("Once Bitten Twice Shy," anyone?) concert fire in Rhode Island came upon the minds of at least a few attendees.
On topic again, the show started with Ana's hands dancing through what looked like the plastic tape from a cassette. Then the curtain was pulled aside and smoke billowed out onto the seated audience. The six "dancers," boys in suits and sunglasses, performed as a band to a version of the song "Johnny Remember Me." It was a really powerful opening. There were a few more scenes with the boys either coolly walking about or jerking abstracty, resembling people on fire in slow motion. Already a haunting scene, a brief clip of Patsy Cline's "I Fall to Pieces" added to the mood. The visual movements created a psychedelic feel or if you're from Miami you might say that it was trippy, bro.
Probably the most interesting scene was when the boys paired up and began to hug each other in a way that begins as tender. Then they start to move their arms into different hug positions, the awkwardness and restrant creates a minor struggle which escalates and the boys end up askew on the ground. All I could think of was how well this scene represented so many of my past relationships. Cheers for getting that onstage.
Finally, Mendez came out and danced over the boys. I'm mostly blind, so I couldn't tell what she was wearing, but it was white, diaphanous and satiny, in contrast to the besuited men. Her dance rouses them and they began flingining her around and I kept thinking,"Watch out! Her head!" But all was a success, with her head staying in tact and the audience enchanted.
The other performers included Alex Puentes, Federico Nessi, Liony Garcia, Ricardo Guerrero, Rick Diaz and Sleeper.
I used to love cassette singles. It's true. When I was in elementary school, very little of the music I wanted to yell along with warranted the purchase of the whole album. I mean, unless you were talking about Poison, because I definitely invested all the way with Brett and the boys. But, I didn't want the whole Paula Abdul tape. Come on. I got the single.
Anyway, this Friday, 8 p.m. at Sweat Records, Roofless Records is releasing two "cassingles" by Miami artists Curious Hair and Flux Forces. My one story here is that I think one of my ex-boyfriends had a Curious Hair t-shirt like a good million years ago. It was green and I really liked it; I always wanted to steal it. Because of this shirt, when someone threw a Curious Hair bumper sticker on my car, I let it stay. You're welcome for the free advertising (and press).
To celebrate the night, performing acts include Little Beard, Curious Hair, Flux Forces and Xela Zaid. Pricing goes like this: $3 cover, $4 cover and a new release of your choosing, $5 cover and both new releases.
Here's some more information on the artists and the record label from the press release:
Through various incarnations, Curious Hair has been a staple of Miami independent and experimental music since the early 90s. Their new tape on Roofless Records, Hair Does Humbert, applies their brand of lo-fi garage folk rock to covers of two songs written by “Hialeah’s Weezer” a.k.a. Humbert
Flux Forces is the new electro solo project from the drummer of experimental punk/noise duo hahahelp! His new cassette on Roofless Records, wetdream, documents a pair of exquisite, hazy pop anthems for all the lonely slackers looking to soften their hangovers in the new decade.
Based in Miami, Florida, Roofless Records promotes experimental music by way of vinyl and cassette releases, live music events, and commentary on the Roofless Rex blog. (http://www.rooflessrex.com/)
Jürgen Nefzger’s 
