Ah, yes – it’s that time of year again, and why not? There was a whole lotta sonics to love this past year in music, and below is my enhanced top 10 guiltless pleasures of 2007 list. I hope you disagree with and enjoy!
The first time I heard it was in Peru. The pea-colored haze of la garúa the fog of polluted drizzle that swallows Lima fell about the airport as I waited in line for my preflight pat-down last spring. Suddenly, a fake-Baped tweener cut to the front, blaring a bootleg Kanye MP3 on his dinky Motorola cell. Poor Ms. West sounded like she'd been graduated into a bigger, stronger, faster chipmunk. Read more »
Don’t freak out if you missed Folsom this summer, or if you forgot to pop into the Mission for Cinco De Mayo, or couldn’t make it Pride or whatever. This is San Francisco, remember? The sun may be gone, but the gratuitous rallies ain’t stopping anytime soon. Read more »
Karaoke isn’t just for drunk bachelorettes, annoying frat boys, and Japanese man-whores anymore. (Such language! -- ed.)
Now, thanks to the folks down at Thee Parkside, you and all your goofy and jaded hipster friends can enjoy it too. Hesher, Thee Parkside’s monthly karaoke and air guitar contest, has been building up heavy metal steam all year long and is about to go into finals mode. Read more »
It's interesting how the NFL promotes itself as the all-American sport while making its players follow a zipped-lip policy you might have expected to find behind the Iron Curtain. That's the Iron Curtain of the former USSR, not the Steel Curtain of the '70s Pittsburgh Steelers.
For all the times football fans have had to sit through incessant flag waving John Mellencamp's "This is Our County" Chevy ads during NFL telecasts you might have thought that the NFL big wigs would have freedom of speech as a basic right of it's employees. Read more »
Hoo, boy -- here come the truth fetishists. They’re still groping away at that mirage in the distance where we all get to know what actually happened on 9/11, who was behind it, and how to claim the tragedy for political means in order to replace one lame duck for another in that most outmoded of positions, "American president". Read more »
SUPER EGO Gurl, my phones have been ringing themselves right out of my brand-new Safeway paper bag purse. The pink one, the silver one, the little lavender one I usually keep tucked in my Dita Von Teese fringed mesh teddy they're all off the hook, jingling like sequins in daylight. Bitches are chatty scandal for the holidays, how novel and you know I'd rather gag on Josh Groban or jack off to the L.L. Read more »
REVIEW Kids are bored. They're hanging on the sidewalk outside a nightclub, splashed in sick amber light. Many of the usual suspects are here: the skinny postgoth chick in golden heels, the stereotypical Russian-looking muffin top trapped on a crappy date, the about-to-ralph dude in an untucked striped Oxford, some rasta hoppers, a hipster gal in rave flats and a trucker cap. Most are smoking and none look happy, except maybe the tranny-licious blond who's about to skate the cover, glimpsed in the doorway flirting with the bouncers. Read more »