YO WHATUP MRR. Welcome back to Eat, Pray, Shlub, my livejournal. I was reading an old column of Imogen’s the other day and I noticed her calling her column a livejournal too, and I don’t think I stole that from her, I think I came to that conclusion on my own and so did she because she and I are very similar in terms of how we process and synthesize information in the world, but also on the off chance that I did read it from her and copy her I wanted to mention that because look, there is a history of men copying women and not crediting them that I don’t want to be part of and even though I’m not necessarily a man, for the purposes of holding a place in that Continuum of Shitheads I may as well be one, so like, you get it. WHATEVER.
MOVING ON. I’ve been eating an ice cream cone every day lately and it’s awesome, you should try it. It’s more expensive than getting Wellbutrin was on my health insurance but def worth it. I just feel way happier when I eat an ice cream cone each day. But two days ago after work, me and Salvatore went and got a cone on Bedford Ave which is like, the gentrification epicenter of North Brooklyn and we were sitting on this stoop and I noticed a dude in a van who was selling a bunch of crap on the sidewalk. I presumed he was was on our team via Sully’s Law (also known as the Shotwell Principle): “any person selling a bunch of crap on the sidewalk is probably A Punk or at least Punk Adjacent.” But then I noticed he was selling a bunch of Mammy figurines, which are those racist Aunt Jemima statuettes that racist white people collect. I pointed them out to Sal, and was like, “what do you think about that?”
And he was all “I don’t like it,” right as the guy got out of his van and we both found out he was a white dude with a goatee and a Hawaiian shirt! That is like, the most bad news facial hair. To quote my friend Himanshu’s song WOYY “I used to want a goatee / cause nobody would coach me.”
I was like “AYO YOU FEEL LIKE A DICKHEAD SELLING THAT RACIST SHIT ON THE SIDEWALK?” and then homie was all “Not when I count my money at night.” And I was like, “Oh, so you just ARE a dickhead.”
Then he told me he was Jewish which I thought was weird but I got to give him a sarcastic “mazel tov” which I enjoy doing. Eventually we stopped talking and then like two minutes later he was all, “why do you even think they’re racist anyway?” in a total Wake Up Sheeple voice and then crossed his arms into this Riddle Me This b/w GOTCHA pose because he clearly thought he had checkmated me, but I just looked at him surprised and was like, “Cause they are. Are you trying to tell me they aren’t racist? I don’t see how that’s possible.” And he just kinda gave up and then this other guy with a python around his neck walked by and the Racist Sidewalk Salesman was like “sick snake, bro,” and me and Sal got up and walked away.
Well, I was totally unsatisfied with that interaction because like, nothing got accomplished and I didn’t even feel good about myself for being self-righteous, which I think was the whole point anyway. I guess I wanna poll MRR: should I have just duffed that dude? I feel like maybe if I had punched him in the nose I would’ve felt better. I’m not really into fighting but maybe now that I quit smoking I’m gonna get into fighting.
I dunno, help me out here. I just want there to be real life negative repercussions for doing fucked up shit like that. Also writing this down now in retrospect I realize when he said “Not when I count my money at night,” I should’ve been like, “oh but you DO feel like a dickhead right now though? Aight.” So I guess maybe I need to learn martial arts for fighting, but then probably I have to go to an improv class to develop a quicker wit for insults if I’m gonna make a habit of picking fights with dudes on the street.
Alright that’s it for this month. Please all white male victims feel free to send me a postcard about how I’m reverse racist to Colin Atrophy / 442-D Lorimer St #230 / Brooklyn, NY 11206 or send me an email at email@example.com.
Or send me cool mail! This month I got a bunch of issues of MARMALÄDE UMLUÄT zine, a pretty cute food zine by this person Maud who also lives in Queens (feudfood.blogspot.com), issue #2 of a comic called SOUNDTRACK that’s made up of these super engaging vignettes that are about tripping or dreams but either way I like them (wesleyfawcettcreigh.wordpress.com), and some music from this dude Jim— a CD of his cumbia group, VOX URBANA, which I haven’t listened to yet (p excited to hear it eventually, though) because I don’t have a working CD player and the one in my computer has nail polish in it, and also a tape by his punk band, NEW DOUBT, which is dark jangly weird desert shit that I’m totally into (newdoubt.bandcamp.com)! It rules getting a good tape in the mail, lemme just say. I’m not ungrateful and hopefully I’ll get to see NEW DOUBT on tour one day.
In non-mail cool shit news: I been real stoked on two bands, neither from New York. First is MEA CULPA from NOLA (meaculpanola.bandcamp.com) who are also playing dark jangly punk, which I’ve always liked but I’ve been extra into lately ever since my girlfriend asked me to start cosplaying as Young John Doe. It’s weird, I put these motorcycle boots on and all of a sudden I’m a totally different person. Or like, I’m a slight variation on the person I already was. Anyway, Mea Culpa are sick as fuck and I saw them play a kind of disastrous show in Brooklyn a few weeks ago but they ruled. Also they have one of the best-designed t-shirts I’ve ever seen, but I ruined mine cutting it into a tanktop too haphazardly so (cough, cough) it’d be pretty cool if anyone wanted to maybe send me a new one. I’m a very important punk tastemaker and a size M, though I could prob do a S.
Second is this band POPPER BURNS from Austin, TX (popperburns.bandcamp.com) and look I don’t want to compare a kinda funky punk band from Texas with a drag performer for a singer to THE DICKS and BIG BOYS because, well we all know why, it seems hackneyed and obvious and pigeon-holey, but Patti Melt kinda does an unhinged rant ala Gary Floyd and Sigourney Fever’s loping bass makes me think of BIG BOYS’ funky numbers. They also have heavy FEEDERZ and MINUTEMEN vibes for the same reasons, respectively. All told, they’re the most exciting band I’ve seen live in a long time and their tape didn’t disappoint. Keep your eyes peeled. If they show up in your town don’t miss them and if you’re in Austin don’t sleep. The night I saw them there were like ten people at their show but earlier in the night I had been in a boring as fuck, all cis dudes, by the book hardcore show with mad people at it. Straight people got bad taste, I guess.
And then lastly I wanna talk about my friend Denise Chavez’s comic Penis Hider, which is about gnarly creeps hitting on her in public places. Denise has an incredible way with words and ability to capture the minutia of what makes situations so absurd and she’s just super funny over all. Her stories are drawn by Evan from Vacation who’s frenetic style of art really compliments Denise’s storytelling and makes the whole thing feel as fucked up as it is. It’s worth checking out if you like comics by cool women and hate the patriarchy. Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org for ordering info.
AND FINALLY if you wanna know about my podcasts or my book which just came out or my soon-to-be weird video show where I interview punks at the pizzeria, just go to sliceharvester.com. You can also read all my old columns there and my pizza reviews and other shit and blah blah blah, thanks for listening. PEACE OUT.