Maybe it’s not what you expected:
Maybe it’s not what you expected:
Strap some chains on your taste buds, someone has finally figure out how to make your meat look like meat.
It’s bacon condoms!
Liven up your bedroom heat without any of those painful grease splatters.
The ad campaign for these bacon-lubed condoms includes lovers wearing pig noses. Because nothing says bacon lover like a pig cannibalizing his own species.
As previously mentioned, I photographed the band ∆ at the Metro. A group called Hundred Waters opened up, and like any moody pop band fronted by a high-pitched female vocalist and supported by highly-trained musicians, they were meh.
But they had something. And I’ll give them that. They just weren’t that great either.
I went into the pit to photograph them just for the hell of it. Time Out didn’t need photos of them, but if I submit them, they can always blog them.
The light was awful. Which it is awful a lot at Metro, but this was the worst light I’ve ever seen at a medium-size venue.
After my three songs, I stood in the back and watched the rest of the set. As I stood there, I thought of my headline above. A few minutes later, a well-dressed guy walked up to me and asked, “Is this Hundred Waters?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Man.” He paused and listened for another few moments. “They suck.”
He turned and walked off.
After I got home, I was going through my photos, which all sucked. I ended up sending the band a tweet saying:
I sincerely hope you invite better light into your tour. It’ll get better press and better exposure. pic.twitter.com/oL4PHkr9zo
And they responded!
@cafewitteveen fuck you tho ;p
And they followed up!
@cafewitteveen great shot, thinkin that’s our new press pic from here out
So I responded! Twice!
So there you have it.
The band is going to use my pic as their press image.
Out of spite.
I love images used in spite.
So if you’ve got ∆ tickets … you might have to wade through the muddy puddle of Hundred Waters first. Consider it part of the price of the ticket.
This, dear readers, is a must read. It’s an opinion piece by Tim Kreider called, “The ‘Busy’ Trap.”
I am not busy. I am the laziest ambitious person I know. Like most writers, I feel like a reprobate who does not deserve to live on any day that I do not write, but I also feel that four or five hours is enough to earn my stay on the planet for one more day. On the best ordinary days of my life, I write in the morning, go for a long bike ride and run errands in the afternoon, and in the evening I see friends, read or watch a movie. This, it seems to me, is a sane and pleasant pace for a day. And if you call me up and ask whether I won’t maybe blow off work and check out the new American Wing at the Met or ogle girls in Central Park or just drink chilled pink minty cocktails all day long, I will say, what time?
I love this line: I’m the laziest ambitious person I know.
When people ask me about working for myself, I talk about long distances and time between paychecks. Or jobs.
There are weeks that I have forced time off. Then there are times when I am really busy, and have to work long, difficult hours.
But it’s the downtime that I emphasize. The great thing about my work is flexible hours, and the ability to workout during the day. I don’t have a commute, so I can spend the hour(s) that other people drive cars or ride buses or trains, cooking.
I’ve worked with everyone from CEOs to interns, and the common thread among us all is the propensity to appear busy, but the overwhelming nod to laziness.
I don’t believe CEOs deserve their millions (if they’re making that) and I don’t think interns deserve pennies. We don’t need class structure. We don’t need levels of social economy. What we need is more opportunity to spend time together.
There’s something deep down in us that wants to be un-busy.
People don’t really want to work. Which is why I don’t blame people on welfare or disability.
I want to spend more time with people doing stuff that’s fun. I happen to LOVE photography, and have managed to find ways to get paid for it.
But I don’t want to get to the end of my life and wonder where my time went.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the paychecks and I enjoy contributing taxes to the government.
But I understand lazy ambition. And I hope we can all learn to be lazy ambitious people who get together for lunch or a coffee on a school day.
I’ve been sitting on it for a while. Weeks actually. The JPG has been sitting on my desktop, and I open it every once in a while.
The sentiment meant a lot to me when I believed I was saved. And I get the idea that supernatural forgiveness feels good.
But from the outside looking back, I have to say that the psychology behind this thought is a steaming pile of poop.
I’m not bragging, but I’m bragging.
I’m not special, but I’m connected to a supernatural being that makes me special.
I am dirty, filthy and ugly, but I shine when I invoke the name of Jesus. Knowing God makes me special … but I’m still ugly … avert your eyes.
I’m not proud about it, but I’m putting it in front of your face.
Let’s all agree — at some level — that this is — in fact — prideful, ugly, manipulative, divisive and silly to use expressions like this. If you’re strong enough to say you’re weak, than you can’t be all that weak.
If you’re proud enough to talk about something unseen as if he’s there, you are an insouciant, supercilious douchy person. Sorry, that there’s the stinky truth.
To claim a knowledge of the mystery that is supernatural, unseen, unknowable and too big for words or comprehension, that’s pride.
There is one truth I believe in regarding belief and believers, and that’s the believers are winners. They are going to heaven. They get the reward of all rewards.
There is no more need to brag. There is no more need to trifle over painful failures of the flesh, as they say.
And when you strip away all the belief and thinly veiled pride and “hey, look at me!” ideas … all you’re saying is that you’re human … just like everyone else.
So get on the bandwagon and whip the horses. Let’s do this … without the mumbo jumbo and confusing language.
Full text of the JPG below the fold.
Did you know old people — who aren’t planning to procreate — are getting married?
We need to stop this blasphemy … NOW!!!