lick my intrument: body sounds

sometimes this is what i do late at night.

could it possibly be the original SPOONMEN:

gothhearted scottish spoonman:

now, if you look at the description of that last video, it will say something like, "well, he's no artis the spoonman. who is artis the spoonman? OH SHIT:

So, clearly i'll never be able to do that. so what's the next step? cut out the middleman, of course. imagine if you could play the spoons.... without spoons! this is also something i was taught at an impressionable age. aside from providing a new level of musicianship to achieve, it left me feeling out of step with MY GENERATION. cmon, people, podcasts and leakedmp4sonbittorrents? fuck that shit. let's hit ourselves in the face like old times.

here's Steve Ho is like the performers at my san francisco montessori school. his show includes subtle performance humor:

professional skills:

someone's brother:

" sorta like the granddaddy of beatboxing, by crackers":

more crackers:

the reality of the origins of the handbone.

i wish i was able to provide an adequate visual depiction of the dance step the pigeon wing. i will not stop searching.

this guy isn't the best. but he's the best. clearly, he's no stranger to controversy, but i believe this shit is so real. tip: watch his nipples.

speaking of FAST, here's a side note. i don't believe this man to be the fastest in the world. however, i do think he deserves more than a loading dock job and a jackass t-shirt:

sorry, i know it's a bit much.

CREEPSTER

so last fall Rhonda was invited to attend a GOAT ROAST in BERKELEY, CALIFORNIA. since it's fair to say that goat roasting is not a typical east bay activity, Rhonda wore out the treads on her tires and drove at least 400 miles total to make it. all was well with cake and homemade hot sauce, until "that time of the night" came, around 11pm. you know, that time where the reasonable guests have wandered off to bed or better parties, and the remaining ones could be found sleeping in corners, rambling to themselves, or looking for the empty keg. [or, shall we say, walking to the subway with no shoes. i'm looking at YOU, Bruce.] Rhonda herself was sobering up and nodding off and trying to collect the owner of the couch she'd be sleeping on. coats were gathered, hugs were given, but the hosts were nowhere to be found.

then, out of the master bedroom, came a man in boxers.

then, giggles and doorslamming. the door opens again, to reveal several more men in boxers, standing close to each other, sitting on laps, removing pants.

clearly, the hosts had been discovered. but were they too busy for good-byes? had an even better party started within the roasting house?

Rhonda wanted out. but she is curiouser than a cat. she said, hey, we're leaving, but what are you guys doing in there?

the answer?

WE'RE LISTENING TO BOB DYLAN'S CHRISTMAS ALBUM.

this stupid thing won't let me embed. santa must be pretty proprietary.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8qE6WQmNus

TWILIGHT

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

ALL HAIL DUBTEN

for the new year, things are gonna be different.

Rhonda's best internet friend says, "everything is from now on."

got it?

so far, dubten promises to be all hustle, all the time. last year, Rhonda was lookin into becoming a farmer in the most fertile valley of money trees. unfortunately, that shit got logged.

THANK GOD she recently received a letter from our dear Bruce, who knows how to make easy answers to all those tuff questions. after dutifully completing as-honest-as-possible answers denoting her desire for the nightlife, beauty, and helping people, the One True Path has clearly become even more clear:

TAXI DRIVER.

no, like this:

this is not actually the best movie out there, but hey, in dubten you make do.and this is not the first time Rhonda has been a human trafficker, but that story comes in the springtime. gotta retain a little mystery to keep the internets interested, right?

THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING OF THE BLOGGBERG, PEOPLE.

lick my instrument: candy art part 2

APOLOGIES. Rhonda has been on the road. This is how we do.
Unfortunately, it's been a rocky road, where there is no wireless.
To try and make up for it, Rhonda will have to resort to re-fantasizing the journey, and re-entering blog-land by re-doing an old muti-part post.
If life were sweet, I would have rolled with this sugar-coated baby.
I would take out my candy purse:


and I would play the sweetest jamz you've ever heard:

Side A:
Trick Daddy- Sugar (gimme some)
Snoop Dogg- Candy
Lil Kim- How many licks
Kelis- Milkshake
50 Cent- Candy Shop
D4L- Laffy Taffy
New Edition- Candy Girl
"What's Up With Da Cookies" - Juney Boomdata
"Goodies" - Ciara
Lil Wayne - Lollipop
TLC - This Is What It Tastes Like
Cameo - Candy
Pitbull f/ Twista - Candyman
Will Smith - Candy

Now that's just the tunes that go with the gumball hummer. But please don't think that those are the only sticky songs out there. MORE CANDY MUSIC TO COME!

worse than what?

The special library archive I work in contains one of the finest university collections of English and American rare books and manuscripts, a prominent archive of downtown New York art from when that was, like, a scene, and 20,000 cookbooks. So, naturally, every now and again we find something tucked back in there that can really only be described as a gem. 

Let Them Give Head

Excerpt from my assigned weekly reading:

"With the coming of the Revolution in 1789, the floodgates opened, and the number of pamphlets attacking the queen rapidly rose in number. These took various forms, ranging from songs and fables to presumed biographies (such as the Essai historique), confessions, and plays. Sometimes, the writings were pornographic with little explicit political content; the 16-page pamphlet in verse called Le Godmiché royal (The royal dildo), for example, told the story of Junon (the queen) and Hébée (presumably either the duchesse de Polignac or the princesse de Lamballe). Junon complained of her inability to obtain satisfaction at home, while pulling a dildo out of her bag ('Happy invention that we owe to the monastery'). Her companion promises her penises of almost unimaginably delicious size...."

- from "The many bodies of Marie-Antoinette: political pornography and the problem of the feminine in the French Revolution", by Lynn Hunt (emphasis mine).