Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Saturday, March 3, 2012
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

oncinemapodcast:

EPISODE 16: DRIVING MISS DAISY

TIM HEIDECKER CINEMA PODCAST!  SUPPORT OUR MAN!

Tuesday, February 21, 2012
The problem was you had to keep choosing between one evil or another, and no matter what you chose, they sliced a little bit more off you, until there was nothing left. At the age of 25 most people were finished. A whole god-damned nation of assholes driving automobiles, eating, having babies, doing everything in the worst way possible, like voting for the presidential candidates who reminded them most of themselves. I had no interests. I had no idea how I was going to escape. At least the others had some taste for life. They seemed to understand something that I didn’t understand. Maybe I was lacking. It was possible. I often felt inferior. I just wanted to get away from them. But there was no place to go. CHARLES BUKOWSKI
Friday, February 10, 2012
THE FUCKING ‘90S

THE FUCKING ‘90S

(Source: lolamona)

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Jonathan Richman - I Was Dancing in the Lesbian Bar (LIVE)

I’VE GOT MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO DO
THAN SPEND MY TIME GROWIN’ OLD WITH YOU
THE GUESS WHO, 1970
SWEET DEVOTION
IS NOT FOR ME
JUST KEEPIN’ IN MOTION
WILL SET ME FREE
SUPERTRAMP, 1979
Tuesday, September 27, 2011

“LIGHTNING STRIKES YOUR FORTRESS (NO LONGER A MISTRESS)” — LEATHER MYST

Recorded throughout the smoldering summer months of July and August, this piece was assembled using a Yamaha EZ-20 keyboard and various recordings of percussive, household items (i.e. a bongo, bass drum, and pens drumming against a leather stool). Numerous vocal sessions were employed to accentuate the track’s falsetto-dominated chorus and deeply atmospheric, masculine chanting. 

youtube.com/leathermystband

Monday, September 26, 2011
Such a complete bad-ass

Such a complete bad-ass

Friday, September 9, 2011

Chapter 2 for my upcoming novella, “Slow-Dancin’ ‘Neath the Cascades of a Cream-Colored Sunrise”

P.S. THIS IS JUST A ROUGH DRAFT SO DON’T BE TOO CRITICAL, PEOPLE!  LOL

Teddy Turnip beckoned for the men of his squad to approach the canyon.  The crystal beams of a full-moon’s glow cast shadows upon the cacti, bones, boulders, and rock ridges.  Twelve-hundred feet below them stood the makeshift bomb shelter where the remnants of the Clan of the Mustard Syringe were nestled.  Colonel Thorne had briefed them earlier that this mission was not one for the faint of heart; nor the pure of heart.  Devious political manuevers had transpired in order to gain clearance to such a sucide endeavor.  Could Teddy and his elite squadron of assassins, scouts and heavily-gunned shadow mercenaries pull off such a task?

22,000 miles away, straight across the Atlantic, Janette Suede primped herself for the big show that night.  She would need to be spot-on, her posture impeccable, no missed choreographed moves were allowed tonight.  Members of the High-Gloss Talent Agency would be in attendance, scattered throughout the concert hall like vultures eying their next slay.  The pasty, bald, jean-clothed stage-hand entered the room and gave the countdown.  Within seconds Ms. Suede (as she is known by her fans) would give the performance of a lifetime, televised in front of millions, cementing her status as the United Homeland’s most watched disco diva.

…to be continued