So, your beloved columnists were recently taken to task for a comment we made involving curry and the band Asian Dub Foundation. Which is not entirely unreasonable, but how come our tasteless drooling over various and sundry chicks doesn’t seem to merit any kind of similar response? Don’t jizz jokes about former members of Bikini Kill get (ahem) a rise out of anyone? Is sexism more acceptable than racism now? Or it just that we’re living in a Maxim culture where that sort of thing is allowed? Cool, we say!
With that in mind, howzabout Cristina Martinez? We wouldn’t listen to Boss Hog on a bet, but we have always wanted to do bad stuff to her—while her precious no-talent husband Jon Spencer watches. Mike Explosion! Mike Explosion! . . . Also, we just got a couple of Emmylou Harris reissues (Last Date and Cimarron). Talk about a historical piece of ass. . . . On the other hand, that Justine from Elastica is a skank. And what the hell happened to Teri Hatcher? We’re not even sure we want to have sex with her anymore.
So when exactly did it become Pacey’s Creek? This is why Dawson grows up to be Darth Vader. Also, Stephanie McMahon is a bitch; Joey Potter is a slut. Let’s keep that straight, OK? Thank you. . . . We are psyched for Center Stage, though we’re going to order the tickets from MovieFone so we don’t have to say it out loud to the girl at the window. And don’t worry, we’re still gonna do Battlefield Earth first. What do you think we are, a couple of sissies?! . . . Since our next item is a plug for Yves vegetarian meat products, perhaps so. This Vancouver-based company churns out absolutely rockin’ veggie burgers (black bean and mushroom is our favorite) and faux pepperoni that really tastes like pepperoni! Of course, the side effects include an irrepressible urge to protest the World Bank, but damn, it really does taste like pepperoni!
Bands we like: Departure Lounge, Ass Ponys, Rosita, New Electrics, and, oh yes, Murry the Hump. . . .We understand the new Sleater-Kinney record is a real departure for them. String sections and breakbeats, we presume. . . . Don’t even get us started on Greg “There’s Always Been a Dance Element to My Music” Dulli’s highly anticipated, long-awaited (read: three years in the can) solo project. . . . Also, we would really like to kick Elliott Smith’s whiny white ass—while Cristina Martinez watches, of course.
Man, we miss 90210 already. . . . Have we mentioned that the punch line of our favorite Canadian joke is “moosecock?” . . . Another thing about High Fidelity: We’ve met rock critics and if any of them looked like Natasha Gregson Wagner we would still be rock critics. Plus, any self-respecting rock critic would have already heard the new Stereolab. Months in advance, no less! We can assure you this would have never happened to Peter Margasak, the real hack at The Chicago Reader. And what’s more, “Le Boob Oscillator” ISN’T NEW STEREOLAB!
Last week the National Post (Canada’s USA Today, only smarter and more tabloidy at the same time) ran a small item reporting that anthropologists in Northern Brazil have come across a nomadic tribe, the Awa Guaja, whose women breastfeed baby monkeys. According to Renildo Matos dos Santos, a government official, “Monkeys are a very important part of their culture. I have also seen them breastfeeding small pigs and raccoons.” If only Cristina Martinez was one of the Awa Guaja, because Jason hasn’t shaved in a while. . . . Finally, so long, Cardinal O’Connor, you rat prick. If you’re right, enjoy heaven. If not, tell Hitler and John-John we said hello. . . .
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