Dude’s acting more like Flying Potus

Too bad, they cut out the rest of the quote.

“After Kurt died, I followed the lineage of his favourite bands and discovered all these great bands from the 80’s. I subsequently left Trump tower, got the Black Flag bars tattooed on the base of my neck and lived in a squat with a bunch of anarcho-vegan punks and listened to a lot of Crass records. Mummy and Daddy were horrified especially when they met my lover Jim, a dreadlocked bassist in a hardcore band. In the end, I got tired of the scene because it felt corrupted and populated by a bunch of wannabes and sell outs. I moved back home, had my tattoos laser removed and decided to become a white supremacist with a line of clothing that exploits third world countries. It was a crazy time!”

Wow, pretending to like Radiohead to woo strange malnourished sadboys hits really close to home for me. But after many years of this behavior I realized that had accidentally started to like Radiohead a lot (strange malnourished sadboys, on the other hand, I learned I could live without).

So, here’s a happy story in a week of shit. Way back in 1995 I took a girl to a Hole concert. I met her in Spanish class where I noticed she was wearing Doc Martins, and I basically fell in love immediately. We went with friends to the show, and after it was over, somehow, ended up having a conversation with Courtney Love. All I remember is she was really psyched both their names were Courtney, and she was totally pleasant, and signed a these cool pink t-shirts. It turned out it was my Courtney’s first concert.

We lost touch with each other over the years and had kids and went through things that everyone goes through, some normal, some abnormal – life stuff.

About a year ago, I made a point to find her and reach out. We talked for a while, and finally I decided to just take her to see some music again. We went to PJ Harvey in Philadelphia, and almost missed the show because we spent so long at Johnny Brenda’s catching up. It was really amazing to have her back.

We’ve been together ever since. I’ve even decided not to move south because I can’t bear the thought of losing her again. We’ve seen a bunch of music since then: Broken Social Scene, Phoenix, we’re going to see Pinegrove. She’s having a tough day today, so I just wanted to tell her I love her. I’d also like to say that Courtney Love fucking rules despite the years people have spent trying to tear her down for being a “crazy woman”. She takes no shit, and Live Through This is a killer record.

Boooooooooooooooooo

“i have never eaten a shirt”
what an icon

As a long time Radiohead fan, trust me, you get fat in your forties.

Pitchfork writing a hit piece? I guess things are about to get condé nasty…

This is gonna sound weird. But a few years ago after I had made several insensitive “insights” on threads involving African-Americans and after getting severe blowback I had to take stock of my personal opinions. And once I did a quick check of my comment history on such topics I realized there was a consistent theme of dismissive and sometimes outright defense of racist, or at the very least racially insensitive, opinions. And I had to ask myself “why are you defending the bad guy here?” The answers I came up with to that question are complex and a little damning. But that’s not what is important here.

What’s important is the same group of people invariably show up in these threads involving sexual misconduct by men. And I will stop short of saying these commenters actively defend the alleged perpetrators. But they are at the very least highly skeptical of almost every alleged instance. We are all aware that the vast majority of these kinds of allegations are not lies. Of course some are. And we are also very aware that the rule of law should prevail. Everybody is innocent until proven guilty. All of that being said why do some of you constantly chime in as the voice that wants to stand up for the accused in these scenarios? Statistically you are just wrong. And you know it. So why do you do it? I honestly suggest doing what I did and ask yourself why you do this. I think once you are honest with yourself about this you might experience a bit of personal growth. That look in the mirror is a bitch. But I promise you it’s worth it. Honestly not condemning or damning anybody here. Said with love. For real.

Ladies and gentlemen, that’s how you write an apology.

let this ulgy looking FOX NEWS (misinformation station) dumb bitch you how pathetic she is. https://www.katherinetimpf.com/contact

This “headline” is insane!
Wrong place, but holy shit, the Kelela album is absolutely taking me over!

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/37/8a/ab/378aabfb26c9237a098d5bd48ad2901e.gif

Yeah. I actually think duck tails are awesome! I would say incredibly mediocre would be like st Vincent or arcade fire! Everyone can’t be a sexual predator. If bill Cosby and Harvey Weinstein are sexually predators than modanile can’t also be a sexually predator. Or if they’re all sexual predators, Weinstein is like a 9.2 predator. Cosby is a 9.9 and mondanile is like a 2.1. But my point is why do you care what your favorite musicicains do? I don’t. I care if they make JAMZ. That’s it. I bump ignition remix all the time. And it’s still just as great as the first time I heard it! I think that’s why your taste in music is so terrible. Because you let other factors besides what the song actually sounds like determine if you like it or not. Which is fine I guess, but I don’t get it. I never have understood that. I’m listening to the mamas and papas right now. Enjoying the shit out of it!

But what about the allegations that he keeps killing gaslamps?

I agree with his girlfriend. Feminism is cancer.

I reposting this story in the hopes that maybe Gibby reads his press sometimes and recognizes the great story he gave my father for the last 20 years. Again, if you already read this, I apologize. Feel free to skip.

When I was a teenager in my small town, I used to go lift weights with the a bunch of cops ar the town’s sub station. I wasn’t a bad kid, but I also wasn’t, necessarily, on the right track. My dad arranged for me to train for baseball season with some local town cops. I got pretty close with some of the guys and, as a thank you, my father agreeed to take a bunch of them to the Rush Limbaugh show (my dads a Dem but all these guys were arch conservatives, so he figured he had the tickets, why not.). My father worked on Wall Street at the time, and he arranged to meet the guys in the city.

They arrived well before the taping, and decided to go have drinks at a bar near the studio. So, they’re drinking and being loud (as cops or anyone can be) and this guy picks up his drink and moves over to sit with them. He’s a homeless looking dude who, suprisingly, buys a round for everyone. Tells them he loves cops, and he’s happy to drink with them. This is back in the nineties, so I guess the topic of music came up, and my dad mentioned that his son was into music and, when asked what kind, said Nirvana. The guy tells my dad he knows Kurt Cobain, and they’re actually pretty good friends. Everyone there laughed at this crazy person who claimed to know the biggest rock star in the world, but did think it was odd that he kept buying drinks.

So, they’re giving him some shit and the bartender comes over to the one cop and tells him not to feel too self satisfied because that “crazy vagrant” is actually kinda rich and well known. Lets him know that he’s in a band called “The Butthole Surfers”, which elicits a ton of laughter from everyone but my dad, who recognizes the name. He tells the cops that it’s totally for real, that he’s heard me listening to this band in the past, and, anyway, the guy is buying drinks, so maybe shut the fuck up.

Gibby and the group keep drinking and he gets around to asking them where they are going. They explain they are headed to The Rush Limbaugh show, and, contrary to their expectations, he’d totally love to go with them. They had an extra ticket, and told him to show up later when he was done with his drinks.

My dad and the cops make their way to the show and Gibby stays at the bar for a bit and follows soon after. When he arrives at the RL show the guy at the door wants nothing to do with him, and tells him he can’t go in. Makes up some story about how you need a jacket and tie. Not wanting to dissapoint his new friends, Mr. Haynes leaves the line, runs across the street and gives a guy some money for his tie to wear over the T-Shirt. When he arrives back the humorless doorman tells him he’s too intoxicated. Gibby, no doubt, grouses a bit and finally leaves.

Someone apparently told Limbaugh this all happened, and he opened the show with the story. After that he, no doubt, reliably sucked (my dad said it was boring and my dad can usually find entertainment in anything). Anyway, after the show the guys went back to the bar and found him there again. He hugged everyone, and bought another round, and signed a placemat in appreciation. I still have it till this day.

Here’s a clip from the show.