Snob

Músico: Black Joe Lewis
Gênero: Soul, Modern Electric Blues

 

Músico: Black Joe Lewis
Disco: Black Joe Lewis
Ano: 2007
Faixas:
1. I Don't Mind (2:46)
2. Boogie (3:42)
3. Bitch, I Love You (4:16)
4. Cousin Randy (3:52)
5. Please (3:21)

6. You Don't Love Me (2:31)
7. I Know Somebody Loves Me (3:26)
8. DC Killa (2:19)
Músicas de autoria de Joe Lewis
Créditos:
Black Joe Lewis: Vocals, Guitar
Ed Miles: Drums
Darren Sluyter: Electric Bass
Walter Daniels: Tenor Sax, Harmonica



Músico: Black Joe Lewis
Disco: Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears [EP]
Ano: 2007
Faixas:
1. Jungle (3:10)

2. If There's A Will (3:32)
3. Raise Your Window (3:43)
4. Evil (2:53)
5. Humpin' (3:25)
6. Please (4:16)
Créditos (conhecidos):
Black Joe Lewis: Vocals, Guitar



Banda: Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears
Disco: Tell 'Em What Your Name Is!
Ano: 2009
Faixas:
1. Gunpowder (2:09)
2. Sugarfoot (3:17)

3. I’m Broke (4:07)
4. Big Booty Woman (3:04)
5. Boogie (3:13)
6. Master Sold My Baby (3:31)
7. Get Yo Shit (2:47)
8. Humpin' (3:00)
9. Bobby Booshay (2:43)
10. Please, Pt. Two (2:25)
Créditos:
Joe Lewis: Guitar, Vocals
Zach Ernst: Guitar, Rhythm Guitar, Lap Steel Guitar
Ian Varley: Organ, Clavinet, Fender Rhodes, Wurlitzer
Bill Stevenson: Bass
Matthew Strmiska: Drums
Joshua Levy: Baritone Saxophone
David McKnight: Tenor Saxophone
Gilbert Elorreaga: Trumpet
Leo Gauna: Trombone
Jim Eno: Additional Drums, Additional Percussion



Banda: Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears
Disco: Scandalous
Ano: 2011
Faixas:
1. Livin' In The Jungle (3:22)
2. I'm Gonna Leave You (3:51)
3. Booty City (2:41)
4. Black Snake (3:02)

5. She's So Scandalous (4:34)
6. Messin' (2:25)
7. Mustang Ranch (3:41)
8. You Been Lyin' (3:30)
9. Ballad Of Jimmy Tanks (3:23)
10. Since I Met You Baby (4:14)
11. Jesus Took My Hand (3:56)
Créditos:
Joe Lewis: Lead Guitar, Vocals
Zach Ernst: Rhythm Guitar
Bill Stevenson: Bass, Keyboards
Matthew Strmiska: Drums
Joseph Woullard: Baritone Saxophone
Jason Frey: Tenor Saxophone
Derek Phelps: Trumpet
Tyrone Edwards: Vocals
Earnest L. Tarkington: Vocals
Cedric West: Vocals
Rev. Gean West: Vocals
Tommy West: Vocals
Jim Eno: Additional Drums, Additional Percussion
The Relatives: Vocals ("You Been Lyin'")



Músico: Black Joe Lewis
Disco: Electric Slave
Ano: 2013
Faixas:
1. Skulldiggin (2:58)
2. Young Girls (2:55)
3. Dar Es Salaam (4:10)

4. My Blood Ain't Runnin' Right (3:51)
5. Guilty (3:25)
6. Come To My Party (2:41)
7. Vampire (6:46)
8. Make Dat Money (5:46)
9. The Hipster (2:38)
10. Golem (3:27)
11. Mammas Queen (3:49)
Créditos:
Black Joe Lewis: Guitar, Vocals
Jason Frey: Tenor Sax
Derek Phelps: Trumpet
Bill Stevenson: Bass, Keyboards
Eduardo Torres: Drums
Joseph Woullard: Keyboards, Baritone Sax

The Pen is Mightier than The Diving Elbow Drop Lucha Libre is Mexico's answer to wrestling. Fighters put on masks an duke it out in the ring. In Peru they have Lucha Libro where aspiring authors put on masks go on stage where they are given 3 random words with which they are given 5 minutes to write a short story. The loser has to take off his mask. The winner goes onto another round. The grand prize winner receives a book contract.

I predict we’ll reach parody by 2019. (Get it, parody, not parity?!)

Paquirrín de Dolce Gabanna pinchando "Quítate el top", Mario Casas rodeado de un aura naranja cual enviado de Dios y una rubia que parece Shakira, todos ellos rodeados de una moza empitonada, Michael Jackson y la Estatua de la Libertad. Juro que como me encuentre esta atracción en alguna feria, montaré 20 veces seguidas hasta caer en coma. 

Imágenes como estas son las que hacen que nos planteemos cerrar el blog para siempre, ya que nunca encontraremos nada mejor.

Agradecimientos a Marian Olivan por su envío costroso. Os recordamos que podéis mandar fotos y vídeos de vuestros hallazgos a la dirección de correo electrónico costreando@gmail.com

Todo acaba. Terminó la epopeya de Walter White y Jesse Pinkman, terminaron las luces de este -que ya es aquel- estío incandescente y terminó también la bonita historia de aquel chucho inolvidable (¿cómo no creer en la belleza?). Se apagó la mirada triste de Tony Soprano como también se apagaron las luces de la cocina del mejor restaurante de la historia durante aquel viernes gris. Se silenciaron las guitarras de R.E.M. y olvidamos demasiado pronto aquella verdad inapelable: “la vida consiste en ir perdiendo cosas“. Se escapó el alma de Michael Corleone en las escaleras de la Casa de la Ópera (de Palermo) con aquel desgarrador grito en silencio y se apagó la música del vals y las sombras en Dublineses.

Todo acaba. Y así debe ser.

Vamos con las Reglas. Las últimas:

Regla NI nº 91: “You always have two choices: your commitment versus your fear“, Sammy Davis Jr.

Regla NI nº 92: Roll the dice.

Regla NI nº 93: Lirios en el estercolero. De eso (exactamente de eso) trata todo esto.

Regla NI nº 94: When it is time to wait, you must wait.

Regla NI nº 95: No es lo que miras, es cómo lo miras. Aprende a mirar.

Regla NI nº 96: Empezar de cero un millón de veces. No hay más.

Regla NI nº 97: Sabes lo que quieres. ¿Sí? Pregúntatelo otra vez. ¿Todavía? Otra. Otra más.

Regla NI nº 98: “No entiendo por qué la gente se asusta de las nuevas ideas, a mi me asustan las viejas“, John Cage.

Regla NI nº 99: Si no lo crees tú, nadie lo hará por ti.

Regla NI nº 100: Hay tiempo.

 
In the late 1970s, so many awesome punk bands looked to rockabilly for inspiration—think of the Cramps, X, the Gun Club. Not as renowned as those bands but possibly more authentically rockabilly than any of them were Tav Falco’s Panther Burns.

Early on, Gustavo Antonio Falco caught the attention of fellow Memphisian Alex Chilton, who saw him end a perfomance at the Orpheus in Memphis by cutting a guitar in half with a chainsaw. Chilton worked with the Cramps around the same time, and saw in Tav Falco someone who he could help take blues and rockabilly to new places. Falco did the titleing for Chilton’s notorious first solo album, Like Flies on Sherbert.

Around the time all of this was happening, Falco booked a gig on a Memphis-area talk show hosted by the matronly and marvelously named Marge Thrasher. In Amy Wallace and Handsome Dick Manitoba’s Official Punk Rock Book of Lists, Eric Friedl ranks this TV appearance #2 in his list of “Things That Made Memphis Punk.” With Chilton shyly sporting a pair of Cons and slotted in as guitarist (Falco cheekily introduces him as “Axel Chitlin”), the Panther Burns did a rendition of the Burnette Brothers’ “Train Kept a Rollin’” before segueing into … well, it took quite while before they could get to that second song—over the apparent objections of La Thrasher.

Fascinating here is the yawning chasm between the song they actually play, which seems understated, spare, groovy, and otherwise unexceptional, and the well-nigh horrified reaction it gets from Thrasher. While it was not a performance designed to blow the roof off the joint, Falco must have been positively bumfuzzled to hear the middle-aged Thrasher deem the song possibly “the worst sound I’ve ever heard come out on television” and block Falco’s efforts to play a second song by engaging in a lengthy and hostile interrogation as to the inherently “anti-music” nature of Falco’s style, which frankly seems hardly to exist—there’s nothing particularly alienating about the music! Not unduly discomfited, Falco gamely offers up a bunch of philosophical mumbo-jumbo in defense.

Thrasher doesn’t even seem all that angry, she’s genuinely curious why anybody would choose to play music like that on live TV at 9 o’clock in the morning: “This is anti-music, is that right? ... Are you all all part of the federal grant, of money?” (You can almost hear the Tea Party in that question….) We encountered a similar theme in a recent post about the Jackson 5—our increasing inability to hear just how profound punk’s attack on the status quo was. I don’t know if Thrasher was expecting the Electric Light Orchestra or the Carpenters or Lawrence Welk, but she sure as hell wasn’t expecting the thrum and purr of a low-budget rockabilly machine such as Tav Falco’s Panther Burns. I don’t know; it’s a wonderfully resonant bit of television. (In the video, the interesting freeze effects and inserts are the work of Randall Lyon, who partnered with Falco to run a video company named TeleVista Projects, Inc.)
 

Pass the Garum is a cooking blog focused on the recipes and cuisine of ancient Rome.

Many of the dishes and recipes discussed on the blog come from Apicius, the only surviving Roman cookbook (as opposed to books on other subjects that happen to contain some recipes). If you'd like your own copy of Apicius, the best English edition is probably Grocock & Grainger's edition. For a (considerably cheaper) book of recipes adapted from Apicius, see Sally Grainger's Cooking Apicius. For a taste (ha!) of what you can expect, here are the first 38 pages of Cooking Apicius [pdf], courtesy of the publisher.

If you want to get really authentic, you'll need to build some Roman cooking hardware, such as a testum or clibanus. For more on these, see A. L. Cubberley et al., Testa and Clibani: The Baking Covers of Classical Italy, 56 Papers of the British School at Rome 98 (1988), which is available for free on JSTOR via MyJSTOR. Sally Grainger wrote two blog articles (one, two) describing their use.

'Legendary Vietnam Gen. Vo Nguyen Giap dies.' 'Vo Nguyen Giap, the brilliant and ruthless self-taught general who drove the French out of Vietnam to free it from colonial rule and later forced the Americans to abandon their grueling effort to save the country from communism, has died. At age 102, he was the last of Vietnam's old-guard revolutionaries.' 'To military scholars around the world, he was one of the 20th century's leading practitioners of modern revolutionary guerrilla warfare.'

'General Giap had studied the military teachings of Mao Zedong, who wrote that political indoctrination, terrorism and sustained guerrilla warfare were prerequisites for a successful revolution. Using this strategy, General Giap defeated the French Army's elite and its vaunted Foreign Legion at Dien Bien Phu in May 1954, forcing France from Indochina and earning him the grudging admiration of the French.'

'General Giap understood something that his adversaries did not, however. Early on, he learned that the loyalty of Vietnam's peasants was more crucial than controlling the land on which they lived. Like Ho Chi Minh, he believed devoutly that the Vietnamese would be willing to bear any burden to free their land from foreign armies.'

'The general's former nemesis, U.S. Defense Secretary Robert McNamara, came to visit in 1995. He asked about a disputed chapter of the Vietnam War, the 1964 Gulf of Tonkin incident in which two U.S. Navy destroyers were purportedly fired upon by North Vietnamese boats. It's the event that gave the U.S. Congress justification for escalating the war.

Later, many questioned whether the attack actually occurred. During his visit, McNamara asked Giap what happened that night.

"Absolutely nothing," Giap said.'

'Late in life, Giap encouraged warmer relations between Vietnam and the United States, which re-established ties in 1995 and have become close trading partners. Vietnam has also recently looked to the U.S. military as a way to balance China's growing power in the disputed South China Sea.

"We can put the past behind," Giap said in 2000. "But we cannot completely forget it."'

---

1. One-Up

“Oh! You speak Spanish? That’s cute. I also speak Spanish, Italian and French. (Insert smirk). You taught Spanish in high school? I actually started my own company when I was an infant, teaching 3 languages. I funded it myself!”

We get it. You have a burning desire make yourself feel superior because you feel violently inferior.  You cannot handle the success of others. You are insecure. There’s a big gaping difference in sharing stories with a friend because you’ve had similar experiences, but to undermine someone’s success or statement with your own is not only embarrassing, it’s extremely annoying and fictitious.

2. Take Offense

A wise teacher once said, “It is a fool who takes offense when it is intended, but it is an even greater fool who takes offense when it is not intended.”
Self interest is a common theme in the world today, it may even be the basis for everything we do and say, so keep that in mind when you realize that people aren’t intentionally trying to offend you; they’re busy thinking about themselves.

Insecure people will hear a statement, apply it to themselves, and if it happens to be something they’re insecure about, they’ll take heavy offense. It’s not cute to be the person everyone tiptoes around because they’re afraid of saying something you might get upset about.

3. Offend Others

Putting people down is the equivalent of an illuminated LED sign reading “VIOLENTLY INSECURE” floating behind you in a helium filled thought bubble. To put others down in an attempt to gain attention, validation, or happiness shows how jealous you are of what they have. Even if you’re not jealous of what they have, you show that you’re unhappy with what you have when you intentionally offend them. How you treat others is a direct extension of how you feel about yourself, and when you try to make someone else feel bad or embarrassed of who they are, it’s deplorable. A happy, secure person wants to share their light.

“Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.” – Buddha

4. Put Themselves Down

When you don’t feel secure with yourself, you want words of affirmation to validate you. People are going to form their own opinions about you, and they are usually very different than the opinions you have about yourself. Nobody thinks you have a big nose until you tell him or her that you have a big nose on a regular basis. They might console you and tell you that you don’t have a big nose, but they’re really wondering why you’re spending so much time thinking about your nose when there are things going on that really matter.  What really matters is being confident in yourself, your actions, your feelings, and your nose.

5. Really, Really, Really Want Everyone To Like Them

It’s one thing to be aware of how people feel about you. It is a WHOLE different can of worms when you are so concerned people won’t or don’t like you that you morph into a validation monster. A validation monster agrees with everyone, changes the decibel and tone of their voice, and contracts their face muscles into a cringe worthy crazy eyed “Jack Nicholson-from-The-Shining” facial expression in social situations.
It’s weird. People can tell when you think they don’t like you, and it makes them wonder what your intentions really are. Do you sincerely want to get to know them and be friends on some normal level? Or do you want their validation as a check on a list that somehow makes you a better person. By being insecure, insincere and hungry for people to accept you, you might miss the opportunity to actually make a friend. A friend will accept you when your face muscles aren’t contracted and your voice isn’t high pitched. They’ll criticize you to your face, and glorify you behind your back. It’s important to be secure enough for friendships like that, because those are the ones that last.

6. Talk about their problems in situations where they SHOULD NOT be talking about their problems

“You want to go get McDonalds? Yeah my dog died and I’m still grieving over my Grandmother’s death 6 years ago, and I can’t pay my bills, and my parents are both in prison and nobody likes me but it’s okay I can totally drive us to McDonalds because I was just broken up with.”

Rough times get the best of us, but don’t let them get the best of you when you’re at a social gathering and the morale is high. If you need emotional support, the football field of social situations is not the place to ask for it. When an insecure person asks for sympathy and attention, it places a heavy cloak of distress, obligation and concern over everyone involved. Everyone lost their appetite for McDonalds when the insecure person started openly talking about his eating disorders and family issues AT A PARTY.

A loving, yet highly inaccurate depiction of Johnny Cash’s 1981 battle with an ostrich

It’s well known that Johnny Cash battled drug addiction for much of his life. After having dabbled very seriously with pills in the 1960s, he managed to kick the habit until an eye operation and a near-fatal encounter with one of his pet ostriches provided ample grounds to turn to painkillers again. He was in pain, and painkillers alleviated that pain. The problem is, he kept using the painkillers even after the medical pretext for using them had long gone away.

The year is 1981, a relative lull in Cash’s career. Cash’s masterpieces of the 1960s were long behind him, and he had spent most of the 1970s in a manner that was a far cry from his outlaw image, recording a great deal of gospel, cultivating an avuncular, family-friendly image for his annual Christmas television specials, and even appearing on an episode during the third season of Columbo. Actually, let’s give you a taste of that Columbo episode just for fun:
 

 
Cash was a long way from the hefty second wind his career would get after his album American Recordings, produced by Rick Rubin, introduced him to a younger audience more conversant with REM than with George Jones.

According to Cash, if it weren’t for the “good and strong” belt he was wearing, the ostrich would easily have killed him. The incident took place at the “House of Cash” in Hendersonville, Tennessee, which featured offices, a museum, a recording studio, a gift shop—and an enclosure for exotic animals, including ostriches. Cash’s return to heavy amphetamine use lasted until a 1983 incident in which Cash trashed a hotel room in Nottingham, U.K., landed him in the hospital.

Here’s Cash’s engaging account of the ostrich attack, as related in Cash: The Autobiography:
 

One such spell, the most serious and protracted, began when I took painkillers after eye surgery in 1981, then kept taking them after I didn’t need to. It escalated after I was almost killed by an ostrich.

Ostrich attacks are rare in Tennessee, it’s true, but this one really happened, on the grounds of the exotic animal park I’d established behind the House of Cash offices near my house on Old Hickory Lake. It occurred during a particularly bitter winter, when below-zero temperatures had reduced our ostrich population by half; the hen of our pair wouldn’t let herself be captured and taken inside the barn, so she froze to death. That, I guess, is what made her mate cranky. Before then he’d been perfectly pleasant with me, as had all the other birds and animals, when I walked through the compound.

That day, though, he was not happy to see me. I was walking through the woods in the compound when suddenly he jumped out onto the trail in front of me and crouched there with his wings spread out, hissing nastily.

Nothing came of that encounter. I just stood there until he laid his wings back, quit hissing, and moved off. Then I walked on. As I walked I plotted. He’d be waiting for me when I came back by there, ready to give me the same treatment, and I couldn’t have that. I was the boss. It was my land.

The ostrich didn’t care. When I came back I was carrying a good stout six-foot stick, and I was prepared to use it. And sure enough, there he was on the trail in front of me, doing his thing. When he started moving toward me I went on the offensive, taking a good hard swipe at him.

I missed. He wasn’t there. He was in the air, and a split second later he was on his way down again, with that big toe of his, larger than my size-thirteen shoe, extended toward my stomach. He made contact—I’m sure there was never any question he wouldn’t—and frankly, I got off lightly. All he did was break my two lower ribs and rip my stomach open down to my belt, If the belt hadn’t been good and strong, with a solid belt buckle, he’d have spilled my guts exactly the way he meant to. As it was, he knocked me over onto my back and I broke three more ribs on a rock—but I had sense enough to keep swinging the stick, so he didn’t get to finish me. I scored a good hit on one of his legs, and he ran off.

They cleaned my wounds, stitched me up, and sent me home, but I was nowhere near good as new. Those five broken ribs hurt. That’s what painkillers are for, though, so I felt perfectly justified in taking lots of them. Justification ceased to be relevant after that; once the pain subsided completely I knew I was taking them because I liked the way they made me feel. And while that troubled my conscience, it didn’t trouble it enough to keep me from going down that old addictive road again. Soon I was going around to different doctors to keep those pills coming in the kind of quantities I needed, and when they started upsetting my digestive system, I started drinking wine to settle my stomach, which worked reasonably well. The wine also took the sharper, more uncomfortable edges off the amphetamines I’d begun adding to the mix because—well, because I was still looking for that euphoria.

So there I was, up and running, strung out, slowed down, sped up, turned around, hung on the hook, having a ball, living in hell……

 
I couldn’t resist this one: here’s “Folsom Prison Blues” performed by Ostriches—no, not “perfomed by ostriches,” performed by some band named Ostriches.

"Oh," says the ad man. He's responsible for the hour of primetime television Revlon has bought and turned over to Belafonte, who, by the way, will not be singing "The Banana Boat Song," and has also decided that he won't accept commercials. "Oh my god," says the ad man. Belafonte grins now, and says what he thought then: "Swallow that sh*t, motherf***er." The Revolutionary Life of Harry Belafonte.

 
My wife, knowing how deep my League of Gentlemen fandom goes sent me an email just now (subject line: “Holy shit!”) with the news that the great comedic geniuses would be reforming. Anyone who knows me well, knows just how high my regard is for the League.

Sadly, though, it’ll only be a one-off “local” affair, seeing the Gents reuniting for a London charity fundraiser. Via Chortle:

Mark Gatiss, Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith are to perform together at a star-studded benefit for the Royal Free Hospital at the Adelphi Theatre on December 1.

The Rocks With Laughter event also features a rare live appearance from Rowan Atkinson, as well as Matt Lucas Harry Enfield, Harry Hill and Mitchell and Webb.

Shearsmith prompted intense speculation about the reunion yesterday when he tweeted a picture of the three of them, with the message: ‘There might be some news about these people - coming soon. Keep em peeled.’

I follow Reece Shearsmith on Twitter and I saw that and my hopes were high for another series or perhaps a second LOG movie. As I’m quite sure video from the Rocks With Laughter fundraiser will reach YouTube, I’m just happy to take what I can get.
 

 
BUT THEN I noticed something in that article that had managed to escape my attention: Gatiss, Pemberton and Shearsmith had already reunited on television, shooting a number of sketches for a BBC kids show called Horrible Histories, in 2012. How did I not hear about this? (I don’t watch kid’s shows?)

In the series of ten sketches (not written by the trio or their off-screen writer-partner, Jeremy Dyson) Gatiss, Pemberton and Shearsmith play American movie execs shooting down one historically accurate film idea after another. It’s disconcerting to hear them all do American accents, but also really fun, too.

They do manage to slip in a fair amount of history into the really clever dialogue. A US version of this show would do gangbusters.

Dick Whittington pitches his life story to three American movie executives. Maybe Eddie Murphy can do the voice of the cartoon cat?

“The King Canute Project”

The Leif Ericsson project gets axed.

Alfred the Great makes his pitch to the skeptical Americans.

The story of the Olympics confuses the execs.

Mary Shelley pitches Frankenstein to the clueless execs who think it might make a good vehicle for Justin Bieber.

Robert the Bruce throws his idea for a biopic against the wall.

Ernest Shackleton gets himself a movie deal, but the lack of a potential sequel blows it

The Julius Caesar Project: “So who do you see playing the talking parrot?”

The Ramesses II Project

Nacho Cheese Doritos are the powerhouse of chips, known for being particularly addictive. Once you start eating them, there's a tendency to continue until they are gone. Then you can lick your fingers. What's the secret to this behavior? It's not just one ingredient, but a whole kitchen laboratory of flavors and flavor-enhancing substances.

Oh, you know they have cheese, and salt, and artificial coloring, but did you know that the flavoring powder is ground into the finest powder possible to aid its adherence to the chip (and to your fingers)? The amount of fat is carefully balanced to sooth your brain, and lactic acid is in there just to get your mouth watering.

That's just the beginning; read more specific Nacho Cheese Dorito ingredients and their purpose at the New York Times. -via the Presurfer

copier porn originally appeared on My[confined]Space NSFW on October 3, 2013.

Hace unos meses la parroquia orgasmátrica demostró para regocijo general que no ponían barreras estúpidas a la atracción sexual y que, estuvimos todos bastante de acuerdo, la pequeña Jemma estaba más buena que el pan. Hoy os traemos a otra señorita de una estatura aproximada y igual ausencia de complejos: Sassy Cassee tiene 23 años, mide 86 centímetros, y lleva desde los 18 trabajando como bailarina erótica en locales, despedidas de soltero, festivales y clubes de caballeros de toda Norteamérica. Dejando de lado lo sexual, es un auténtico espectáculo verla moverse, contonearse y trepar con agilidad felina.

To celebrate the release of my new web series, The Big Gulp, which is about swallowing (hint: not water) I asked a vital question: “Do you remember the first time you swallowed?” People’s answers ranged from hilarious to surprisingly dark. You can see my story in the first episode, “Winter Is Coming”, below:

“The first time I swallowed I ran away from my boyfriend, spit it out in the sink, and took a swig chocolate syrup. He was a Christian. He wanted me to put the syrup on his dick. I wouldn’t. He currently lives in Denver with his boyfriend.” Lia, 25

“Swallowing is funny because it seems like there is such a premium on it, versus “spitting” which takes more skill anyways. The first time I swallowed I didn’t even know what I was doing, it just happened. Like, suddenly there was this rush of salty liquid in my mouth, no warning. It was cool, I think. It was nice that there was a very concrete end point because otherwise I would have had no idea when to be done, at that point.” Christine, 28

“Ok so I can’t remember the FIRST time I swallowed. but O can remember a series of times. honestly at this point I don’t even remember spitting ever. I think for me swallowing and sucking dick go hand in hand. spitting always seemed too messy, too much of a — the first words that came to mind were dick/pussy, I don’t know what that says about me BUT — seemed like too much of a dick move / a pussy move. i remember it being so fucking disgusting the first several times. Hell, it’s even kind of gross now. I’m madly in love with my boyfriend and I still kind of gag a bit at the end of a BJ. For me that’s the only option. The idea of spoiling the moment to run to the sink and spit? That doesn’t appeal to me. And nothing turns me on more than when I’m told how good i taste, so then I would assume to reason that a man feels the same. I think if I were a dude and a girl was always spitting out my splooge, my feelings would be hurt. Really, I’m just protecting everyone’s feelings. that’s what’s going on here.” Celeste, 27

“It was with my first boyfriend, who was emotionally abusive and extremely selfish. The first time I swallowed was not my choice and I had no warning. He wouldn’t kiss me afterwards and shortly asked me to leave.” Alex, 21

“The first time I swallowed jizz I threw it up 5 minutes later. It was disgusting. It was so horrible, I was like yeah man I can do this, I can totally swallow jizz. I was like 19, and it was a huge load too and I was like OH OK THEN and then it tasted so wrong, like off milk mixed with ball sweat and so I swallowed it… then I tried to remain suave and sexy… then my stomach was churning and I threw up gluggy hot semen and it was the most disgusting feeling rising up from my throat into my mouth.” Courtney, 25

“I had been going out with this guy for about a month and a half. I was on my period and really didn’t want to get his sheets messy but he kept saying he didn’t mind and that it was fine with him. But since we were still pretty new, I really wanted to wait before we got into the period sex thing so I decided to go down on him instead. While I was blowing him, he kept saying how good it was and that he was close – you know, the usual pep talk. So I was really into it and when he told me he was about to come I just kept going and let him come in my mouth. At that moment, spitting it out didn’t seem like an option so I went ahead and swallowed it. The weird thing is, couple of seconds after I had swallowed, he looked up and asked me if I swallowed it and I got nervous and said “yeah, some of it”. His response to that was “ohh okay, cuz we haven’t been going out for that long so I don’t think we’re there yet.” We went out for another month after that but I never swallowed his again.” Amy, 23

“The first time I ever did it was with my first semi serious boyfriend (I lost my virginity to him the night of my year 10 formal. How original). Anyways a few months before that he wanted me to give him head and I had only done it once before with one of my friends older brothers who told me after I had let him cum all over himself that in order to give great head you should swallow. So I took his advice and when my boyfriend said he was going to cum I said ok with a mouthful of cock. He said it was the best head he ever had so I was convinced that swallowing really was the key and I have done it every time since. Obviously I don’t still believe it is all about the swallow but it definitely helps Plus it always makes me feel superior to girls who refuse to.” Ashleigh, 26

“Nathan and I had planned to go to his student accommodation for a quick smoke then take the bus into town for a drink; a first date as it were. Three hefty joints later and the sound of Primal Scream ringing in my ear the sexual tension had grown unbearable between us; to the point where we had silences simply looking at each other with raised eyebrows waiting for something to happen. The atmosphere was not even stifled by the awful lighting and interiors which looked fresh out of One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest. Finally he made the first move and my teenage instinct went into overdrive and I jumped on him, grinding him rigorously and tugging at his belt. One thing led to another and all of a sudden he was fucking my (almost) virgin mouth. I’d like to think I knew what I was doing; I just gave it dedication and effort which was increasingly difficult in my stoned state with my mouth becoming more and more dry, the viscosity of my saliva becoming more like treacle (sorry for the graphic imagery, I just don’t know how else to put it) but heck! I went for it, and after about 3 minutes of cock-sucking dedication his body tensed and a jet of salty come exploded into my mouth. Ugh, do I swallow it? Is there anywhere to spit? It’s on my hands, uh no, it’s on my dress too, oop and now it’s in my hair… and some in my eye. THIS SHIT GET’S EVERYWHERE. I thought I’d be kinky and lick it up though which really didn’t help my dry mouth. The fact that I walked home that evening with dried jizz on my nylon black dress just showed how much I didn’t give a fuck. When I told Nathan he just laughed and stroked his beard. Moral of the story; Giving blowjobs when high is CHALLENGING. Proceed with caution.” Bryony, 19

“First time I swallowed was the first blowjob I ever gave. I wanted to impress and thought it would be hot. Well, tasted like ass. At the time I didn’t know any better but I was seriously re-evaluating how “hot” I thought it was. That ex ate a lot of fast food and I later learned that was why it tasted so bad. Eat fruit! Once I “discovered” that trick future lovers got that and it got way better for me. Now, about 4 years later. I loooove it, it’s incredibly hot.” Geill, 22

“The first time I swallowed I was at a Westfield in the suburbs in the parking lot in an older guy’s car. I was fourteen and he must have been at least thirty–I organized the meeting on gaydar. Then I got out. And I got a Boost Juice. And found my parents. True story.” Craig, 22.

Chinatown? LUGO! De http://jasp.bitacoras.com en su flickr

Atentamente

por Iris Cebrián

It’s been almost two years since Detroit’s finest garage rockers the Dirtbombs have graced us with a new album– their last effort being 2011′s triple LP Party Store on In The Red Records. There’s rumor of a new album all recorded and mastered just waiting to get shipped off to the pressing plant, but we don’t have to wait anymore for our next fix of Mick Collins and Co’s soulful brand of garage punk. Cass Records has stepped in and pressed up our next dose of Dirtbombs, in the form of the singles comp Consistency Is the Enemy.
Consistency Is the Enemy functions as the vinyl component of the Dirtbombs’ 2006 singles collection If You Don’t Already Have a Look. While that two disc, CD-only collection focused on the plethora of out-of-print vinyl singles the band…

320 kbps | 104 MB | UL | TB | MC

…had released up until that point, it also contained new songs and previously unreleased archival recordings. Those songs seemed to get lost in the shuffle and consequently, have never been released on vinyl until now. Highlights include tracks like “Here Comes That Sound Again” and “Candyass,” both consistent live favorites, or the quixotic cover of Yoko Ono’s “Kiss Kiss Kiss” not to mention the entirety of the Chariots of the Gods EP from 1999.

LA HORA LOCA 1

El exalcalde de Santiago defraudó 291.000 euros del IVA en la compraventa de viviendas

• El gobierno de Santiago desliga la condena de Conde Roa del ámbito público y el BNG pide responsabilidades al PP
• El expolítico no ingresará en prisión aunque sea rechazado su recurso
• Fue salpicado por la Pokémon y tiene todavía dos imputaciones pendientes

A bumper sticker that reads “if you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention,” slightly worn with time (and dedication), clinging to the bumper of a Prius parked in an urban Whole Foods parking lot. The course feel of hemp against your bare skin. The heat that rises within you when you tell people they have a responsibility to use their privilege for good, climaxes with the anticipation of an argument, and rolls swiftly into ecstasy with the opportunity to educate them on their role.

The deep, forgiving cushion of your favorite armchair as you sink in to change the world via the Macbook warming your lap. The inviting “like” button on status updates from area non-profits. A good, hard advocating. Making and selling your own line of granola. The electricity that develops in the air between two people talking about how corporate REI is.

Gooey carob chips melting in the center of a gluten-free cookie. A steaming NPR membership drive mug filled with organic tea. The rhythmic build of tension as you ask, “is this fair-trade?” The deep hit of satisfaction as you realize you are indeed the crunchiest looking person at the farmer’s market. Telling people about your friend who started a farm to make salad dressings for people with soy allergies who want to stand up to Big Dressing. Raising awareness. Informing people. Ohhhh, informing them good.

Playful use of the words ‘cisgender’ and ‘heternormative.’ Telling a woman she is doing feminism wrong. But you can help her do it so very, very right.

The erotic twinge in your groin as you experience the full-body glee of holding the class back so you can ask the professor just one more question about Marx. The silent heat of all the stares from your classmates wondering who this person is that is so fascinated by Marx. The feeling of one-ness with your Marxist brothers from history as you bravely carry that banner. Mmmmmm, so much bravery.

 
Whilst this “Drummer Needed” flyer could totally be fake, I still had a good chuckle at its strict and very specific rules.

No goddamn chelsea haircuts, no “cool” shoes, and tie-dye shirts are ok if they only showcase primary colors. Well, alrighty then…

A little uptight? Perhaps, but they did take care to mention that they’re 420 friendly!

Click here to read larger image.

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
Def Leppard tribute band seeks one-armed drummer

Via Copyranter

click to enlarge
The Magnificent Multitude of Beer, from Pop Chart Lab

Just in time for Octoberfest comes the greatest beer chart (and our biggest print ever).

This monster of a wall map — clocking in at a staggering 60" x 40" — breaks down ales and lagers into over 100 delicious styles, featuring over 500 individual beers as notable examples of each style, as well as over 50 glassware recommendations.

via