If all the hot dogs and LSD of summer have mutated what’s left of your smarts into blubber and you find its easier to just glide on the slime of BBQ obesity farts than walk, its time for an educational psychedelic road trip to refresh. I suggest a holistic excursion that will cram all the art, science, and magic that you may need to alight the cerebrum back into action and get you re-spirited, fresh, crisp and ready for more hot dogs, LSD, and BBQ farts. In particular I recommend a trip to Secret Caverns,which is of course all about the coolness of caves and geology but comes with an extra bonus of a tripped-out hairy freak happening hosted by a Ya Ho Wha-ian rascally goblin.
How would you feel if we directed you to Chapter 17? That's not some new law that allows you to collect money from the government without having to rid yourself of your W.S. George Fine China Limited-Edition Endangered Species Collectors Plates, it's a video of Nick Cave reading from actual Chapter 17 of his book, The Death of Bunny Munro, which we've excerpted and featured for today!
Chuck Guarino is a rare breed in the fashion world: part jock, part rocker, all Jersey, he makes a living doing exactly what he wants. Pretty lucky motherfucker, no? He's one of those dudes who was too cool to be a total jock but too athletically inclined to sit still, so instead of football he turned to bodyboarding (after a brief childhood stint as a competitive rollerhockey player--we're talking roller skates, not rollerblades here). His t-shirt company,
Plastic People, is now in its sixth year.
Someone reminded us that it's Lawrence Hayward's day of entering the world fleshen and sucking oxygen. Forty-eight earth orbits have passed since, and we know it's a little late in the day to be saying hat's off to the chap who made perfect pop music with Felt, but it's easier to do it this way than to send him a singing teddy bear-gram with a card of a baby duck shedding a tear as he whispers, "Sorry."
If a person wanted to learn how to escape a kidnapping, pick double-locked handcuffs, and make a tent out of a cow carcass, where would they go to learn such skills? Well, New Jersey...obviously.
As Vice’s new self-proclaimed sports correspondent I knew it was my duty to cover the amateur boxing match of the century Thursday night. Let me tell you, it isn’t easy knowing next to nothing about sports and being a sports correspondent but I throw caution into the wind and do it anyways. I have chutzpah to spare. Truthfully, when one of the coaches threw water on his boxer and some hit my camera I squealed like a piglet that’s been stepped on and almost fell off my chair. I will not ruin my camera for sports!
In a city where the term "vintage" has been perverted to mean anything from the shop owner's childhood or earlier, it's refreshing to find a spot that lives up to its promise. Exquisite Costume is one of my favorite such places in New York, but unfortunately it's usually a fantasy trip since most things are priced just out of my reach. I have, however, scored some awesome pieces there, including an Austrian shearling military cap that's memorable but not too costumey to be worn all winter long. During my last visit I tried to stretch on a pair of pristine fur-trimmed suede boots that were just a half-size too small. But it's not all animal-fluff stuff, so calm down animal lovers. And it's one of those shops that looks really tame and pristine from the outside, but you get in and you lose your gosh darned mind.
It’s been a few days since the VICE soccer team didn’t completely lose a tournament like usual and the guys won’t stop talking about it. I guess we’re all supposed to feel proud of them because in the six years these Bad News Bears have been playing, they weren’t knocked out of the running by getting creamed in their first game at the eighth annual Fanatic tournament at the Chelsea Waterside Park last Sunday. Let’s see how they made the magic happen…
A beast RV known as Bad Brains chugs down to pick me up at the VICE office. The door swings open and a man with braids named Keith Cecere tells me to come on in. I do and I start having a very nice time immediately, even though he is not wearing a shirt and has a tramp stamp. There are only three out of the five dashing young men of the new IFC internet series Funnel of Darkness, but in retrospect I think that was more than enough. Rich Ruggiero and Brian Sachson who sincerely loves his girlfriend and is considering dual-euthanizing if one of them gets sick were also present. I quickly begin to understand why Keith is shirtless: it is 90 degrees outside and the RV doesn’t have air conditioning. The entire thing is carpeted in heinous shades of brown and tan, making it a mobile desert. They no doubt use this vehicle for picking up ladies but their PR guy told me I would probably be the only girl to ever step foot inside. It was an honor.
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