(Source: here-in-my-room, via kellypaytas)
(Source: partytights)
I highly recommend this film.
Serious shit.
Damn.
(Source: voristrip)
HOT Dog!!!
Another great record store goes away.
RIP, Norman’s. Best vinyl basement in NYC…
47th and Lexington. Rain…
One of the greatest albums that’s never been reissued digitally.
Fuck with me ONLY if you’ve listened to it.
I feel the need to write a MANIFESTO.
So here it is:
Our two fallen heroes, Gregory who is fighting a real fight (And makes all this look stupid) and Chris who has legitimate reasons too. Both of these gentlemen have slept in my place in Brooklyn (as has Bob), and I will truly miss them both. Greg for his camaraderie, and Chris for that big shopping cart of booze that he posted.
I’m a minor player in the Mark and George CHILLER troupe, except I’m not. I came in midstream, late enough to miss “Carrie,” but early enough to see Divine and Frank Zappa, random degenerate KISS, “creepy” James, and The Nairobi Trio, and the coup de grâce, and the award winning MONSTER CEREALS. That one was for Mark, for all of his expertise, energy, and passion. It was Mark that got us all there again when we sighed what amounted to, “NEVER AGAIN.”
I think we won $75.00, which George, Greg and I gave to Mark happily after he had spent probably $400 on the costumes. Mark, I hope that shitty check cleared.
Which brings us to the present.
I was the one on some Sunday morning at a bad egg diner in NJ many years ago, “NEVER AGAIN.” It became a mantra and I am proud of that.
But just like Bauhaus and The Pixies and Kraftwerk and Mission of Burma and all of those VERY FEW bands we loved that actually pulled off a reunion - I think it’s time.
It’s now or never folks. I’m gonna walk into a hotel lobby with KING GEO, one of my best friends that I don’t ever see, but when I do, we pick up like the snap of a werewolf’s finger. And George and I are already gonna be hammered, or at least on the way down the sliding board that is CHILLER.
And I’m gonna walk into a room with George to meet a bunch of you that Mark has swindled into being there. I’m, gonna walk into a room for a man who needs a break from life. I’m gonna walk into a room for a man who tried to break out the staircase glass with me at the top of The Sheraton in Secaucus so we could go on the roof of the hotel dressed as monsters.
We ultimately lost that fight, but we won’t lose this one. Or perhaps it’s just a losing proposition, but fuck it, I’ve got an Uncle Creepy mask to sell and a youtube documentary to make.
I can’t wait to meet you poor, horrible, misguided motherfuckers.
This LAST TRIP is dedicated to Greg and his father.
Our thoughts will be with you, brother!
FUCK OFF,
James