DEATH TO MUSIC!

A new club night starting on the 31st of october, all DJ's play songs from one year only.

This Week:
Digging up the most diverse and influential music from the year 1978, and only 1978.

Stay tuned to see which years they'll be doing each week at:
http://www.myspace.com/deathtomusicclub
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Melbourne-Australia/Death-To-Music/58177056040?ref=nf

Check it out. ITS FREE!

Terrible TV

This morning at the gym in Santa Monica (Oh – I’m so LA), I had the utter misfortune of having to catch the only thing worse than Australian and British mid morning television. That’s right. American mid morning television. Mysoginist. Vapid. Downright creepy. It goes by the name of Regis and Kelly. I’m still not sure which is Regis and which is Kelly, but I don’t think it matters much.

First, this ancient geezer comes on, holding the hand of his cohost (toothpaste ad smile, blonde, tanned, young enough to be his granddaughter). He leers at her, and tells her half a dozen times how gorgeous she is. He checks her breasts out at least twice in the first five minutes of the show. I felt like shouting at the screen : “Yep. They’re still there!”. During the course of their opening banter it becomes apparent that this poor lass is like an inarticulate-airheaded-deer-in-high-def-camera-headlights. I’m not sure what I found worse. The fact she kept likening things to “being at school” “coming back to school” “It’s like the school bully” (Get this woman a therapist!). Or the heavy handed manner her male co host moved the conversation to unrelated subject matter, abruptly cutting her off with no segue. He then proceeds to read odd news items from a white paper (auto cue, anyone?) while she giggles and smiles at inappropriate moments. I am transfixed. It’s like watching a live Amy Winehouse performance. Benjamin Bratt comes on to talk about his new show where he plays an ex heroin addict (at this point, Blondie gasps : “Oh my!”) who has turned his life around and is now in servitude to the Lord (!). Sounds rivetting. Pity, I don't own a television, here. Sigh. Then there’s a go go dancer. No. Really. A go go dancer. From Jersey. Go go dancing in aid of a “spin the wheel” style competition. “I like the way they make them Jersey girls!”, the geezer gaffaws. Turns out the Jersey girl is Security Guard by day. “She can secure me anytime she wants…”. Blondie laughs along. The phone-in caller who wishes to spin the wheel has recently moved states. Blondie looks genuinely shocked. “Don’t you miss the corn… and the blueberries?”

Possibly the only thing worse than mid morning presenters is the mid morning weather people. I don’t catch much TV news, but I have noticed a startling trend. If there’s a hurricane, a freak storm, a flood, whatever, it is the humiliating task of the weather person to stand amongst the (arguably dangerous) weather and attempt (usually with very limited success) to give a live report of the conditions.
It reminds me somewhat of this:


If you want to see Geezer being a right old perve and Blondie chattering away inanely, go here.

From the International Commitee of Surprises

If you need it, here's more proof that David Duchovny is a bit of a tool.

Updateyness: Ryan Adams Responds To Courtney Love

Ryan Adams has finally responded to the claims that he stole from Courtney Love and from her daughter Frances Bean to fund his album 'Rock And Roll".

"I've been dealing with the truth that I have at times been a bad example and/or glorified self destructive behavior. This was never intentional, but rather a consequence of leading a public life in plain sight and never expecting any sort of preferential treatment, isolation or protection," states Adams.

"I've realized and accepted that if people decide to dislike me, they're going to find reasons to justify disliking me. There's nothing I can do about that. That said, it still does pain me to be accused of fictional crimes against innocents or to be implicated in romantic gossip involving the possibly reality-challenged--however unreliable the source or outlandish the accusations. In the end, however, I know that I have never done or even meant anyone any harm."

Milkcrate Was Brought to you by the word CUTE.

Milkcrate wants to share what we like to call a 'Dwrrrr!' moment with you - click away.

Three tiger cubs at a Kansas zoo are getting some maternal care from an unlikely source - Isabella the golden retriever.

Greetings from the Slack-Asses at Milkcrate

Firstly, I would like to welcome you all to the new financial year! Isn't it exciting!? Why don't we get a Financial New Year's Eve? Is partying like it's 1999 really to be restricted to once a year? Bar humbug (or similar).

Anyway now for some news in which Ryan Adams apparently stole a milliondy bucks from Courtney Love's spawn Frances Bean Cobain to make his 2003 albulm Rock'n'Roll. Apparently because Courtney has 29 credit cards, it took her a few years to notice .. hmmm. Ryan, why aren't you blogging anymore? We want to hear your side. And a song about it.

"Cross my paypal with credits and I'll read your keyboard"

I think personal keyboards are the new time capsules.

People spend more time in front of their computers now than they did 10 years ago. Many hours per a day, several days a week are spent there. Those not of the anal retentive persuasion eat, drink and and do other things in front of the computer.

What's trapped behind [and on] keys says a lot about a person.

For instance, my keyboard would be a blessing for an archaeologist as its almost a complete archive of my personal habits.

I have a black battered keyboard. Beneath the keys is a jungle of fuzzy tobacco, ash, loose hair and dog hair. On the keyboard itself there's always a few ash-turds, little melted spots, mass amount of grime and a generous smattering of suspect human fluids.

My favourite keys are 2, spacebar, M, A, N and >. The 'control', 'windows' and F3 [which brings up the 'find' toolbar] keys are covered in thick grime as if never used.

Maybe there's a new job description out there? keyboard readers are the new palm/tarot readers: "I see you have a history of homosexual activity and have a reluctance to commit as you feel people are inferior to you. I also see that you have no control in your life and cant find your path. You also have a lack of vitamin B and will die of lung cancer."

Dept. of Awful Warnings

A hyperventilating David Thomson adds a new entry to his Biographical Dictionary of Film. In the meantime, Rex Reed is just so over it.

Kylie

Our Kylie received an OBE yesterday.


Outside, in the Palace's courtyard in the sunshine after the ceremony, the pop start took questions graciously. The thing that made her nervous was deciding "what to wear". No tears, just excitement. "I was overwhelmed, nervous, I am so honoured." she said.

Is that her excuse for looking like she's a wearing a children's talent show curtain?

Yay for the Segway!

Awww, look everyone! China invented the 'Shoot and Scoot'! Nice work guys!

Surprise!

There's just so much that is deliciously wrong about this picture... I just don't know where to start... That won't stop me, though!

Is Chloe surprised? Is Olivia surprised? They sure both look surprised. Methinks they share a (ultra cheap) surgeon (with a nasty sense of humour).



I recently heard a hilarious rumour of the LA variety... apparently... Um... Ohh... Well... I can't say it....We'll get sued... But... (on a completely unrelated note) if it turned out that your famous mum and barely famous dad were both friends of a woman called Dorothy and only got married / had a child to quash Hollywood gossip about what they did (or didn't ) get up to regularly, surely that would be enough to send you a bit crazy / off your food / to a surgeon.

I love you, PeePee

I remember years ago sitting in a beer garden somewhere with fellow Milkcrate writer, Soira, telling her about my love of Parker Posey.

The night before I'd had a dream about her singing "God Loves A Terrier" from Best In Show to me [which she didnt sing in the film, which is a shame]. I believe this was because before I went to bed I was listening to Ryan Adams album Rock'N'Roll where she lends her somewhat surprising backing vocals to and wrote a song together.

Anyway, I spend a great many drunken hours preaching about the wonders of Parker Posey - or PeePee as I like to call her, that night.

She had just broken up with Ryan Adams, and I was a little heartbroken. I missed reading interviews where she's mentioned nosing around and sometimes taking part on the interview. I missed reading blogs reporting that the writer had just spotting them in a comic shop/video shop /walking down the street off their chops at any time of the day/night. They were my ideal couple - both a bit spazz and so very wonderful.

It pained me to see photos of Ryan wearing a Batman shirt while she was off filming Superman Returns. I wanted them to sort out their strange way of bickering and just get back together so my favourite nutbag actress and my favourite nutbag musician can be in nutbag-love again.

She's one of those actresses that is amazing and hilarious and steals every scene she's in [and knows how to play the mandolin!] and I believe she's very underused.

Parker Posey Trivia:
Did you know that PeePee was considered for the role of Rachel in Friends?
Did you know that PeePee was considered for the role that went to Cameron Diaz in My Best Friends Wedding?

If she had got both of those roles, I probably would be a fan of both.
Friends would have been unmissable instead of being unbearable. Imagine Rupert Everett and PeePee in the same film together!

Why doesnt she get all the roles she deserves? I think I've figured the reason.
She was born in Baltimore, Maryland, home and playground for John Waters, Tori Amos, John Astin [who played Gomez Addams in the tv series The Addams Family], David Byrne of Talking Heads, David Hasselhoff , Jeff Koons [strange artist who made a sculpture of a puppy out of flowers], Jada Pinkett-Smith [who is now a scientologist] and Sisqó [the guy who did that 'Thong Song'.

As you can see from that list, there's something in the water in Baltimore. It makes you unconventional and a little strange.

PeePee started out on television in a daytime soap opera. I cant quite imagine her being in a soap opera unless its a scene in a Christopher Guest mockumentary (if you havenit seen For Your Consideration or Best In Show, you MUST).

I was so happy to hear that she's going to be in John Waters new film, Fruitcake. Its a match made in [Baltimore] heaven!

I haven't seen You've Got Mail that stars the two most obnoxious people in the world bar Julia Roberts, but apparently PeePee's in that. I bet she's amazing. And she almost saved Superman Returns from being the big pile of steaming torturingly bad dogshit that we know it as. Even Kevin "I'm in the closet and I'm never ever, ever, coming out!" Spacey couldn't save that wreck. I went and saw that in the cinema just because she was in it.
See, that's how much I love Pee Pee.

[Dear PeePee, get back with Ryan, for the sake of the children! ie. me!]

Note added by NikkiMaloo: The ever-charming Parker Posey also plays the title character in Fay Grim, which opens at independent cinemas around Melbourne tomorrow. This almost-parody film about espionage sees PeePee jetted to France in order to recover some books written by her former husband in the director's last film Henry Fool, which, instead of being the boring jibberish they were initially deemed as, turn out to be code containing U.S. political secrets and are being hunted globally by the Russian AND Arabic governments. Sounds like a lot of twoddle doesn't it? Well it is, but Parker Posey shines through.

When a Tree Falls in the Woods

If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

To end this argument once and for all, I headed into the woods.

There were three things I would need.

1 - A video camera with a working microphone.

2 - A tree that would fall within my limited window for this experiment.

3 - A second tree to be used as a control subject.

After several hours of searching, I finally found a suitable tree for the experiment. It was a great distance from the local population and through a series of tests determined that no one would accidentally hear the tree fall and thus ruin the experiment. All the leaves had long since fallen and It had significant rotting around the base, It was only a matter of a few days until this giant would fall.

I set up my video camera with a motion activated sensor. If the tree moved more than a few inches, it would be recorded.

I left my subject to it's own schedule and went on to find my control subject.

In order to prove that a sound is made by a tree that isn't heard, first I would need to show that a tree with an audience makes a sound.

After another short search I found my perfect control subject. It looked much like the subject of my experiment minus the rot around the base. I grabbed my axe and went to work chopping at the tree.

It took several hours of 'experimenting' with my axe in hand, when I finally came to the conclusion that a tree with an audience does, in fact, make several sounds.

First, it makes a deep rumbling groan. This is followed closely by the sound of the tree cutting through the air as it falls toward the earth. Soon afterwards comes the crushing sounds of the tree landing on somebody's rooftop and crashing through into their living room.

This is followed close behind by a lot of shouting and finally sirens approaching from the distance as I decided that it was time to check back with my experiment...

Fast.

As I approached my experiment I was happy to find that the tree had already made it's final descent and landed on the ground, knocking over another couple of trees in the process. My results should be very conclusive.

Unfortunately, as I arrived at the site of my experiment I found that my camera had been stolen.

I searched the site for any evidence of who had stolen my camera but found only leaves. There was only one conclusion I could have come to. I believe this theft to be part of a vast conspiracy by the trees, in an attempt to keep quiet the sounds of the unwitnessed forest.

They will not succeed in keeping me quiet for long.

Until next time, I'll be working on the sound of one hand clapping...

Hal Spacejock: No Free Lunch

Simon Haynes, Australian author and programmer, has finally released the next book in the Hal Spacejock series - Hal Spacejock: No Free Lunch.


If you enjoy TV shows like the Young Ones, Blackadder, Red Dwarf and Dr Who, or books by Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett, Tom Holt or Jasper Fforde, then the bestselling Hal Spacejock series is for you.

If you haven't read any of Simon Haynes' brilliant series yet then you can try it out for free in Ebook format. Download Hal Spacejock 1 Here

Be warned though, once you read one you'll want to read them all.

Rock out good, lock out bad

The lockout is a three-month trial of 2am late entry bans for pubs, bars and nightclubs.

During the trial, licensees in the inner city council areas of Port Phillip, Stonnington, Melbourne including Docklands and Yarra councils cannot allow patrons to enter their venues from 2am to 7am. Patrons who are already in a venue can remain until closing time but cannot leave and re-enter the premises.

The size and reach of the lockout - major suburbs affected

Figures in brackets indicate count of pubs/bars/nightclubs in that suburb.

• Melbourne CBD (250)
• Abbotsford (12)
• Carlton [North] (28)
• Collingwood (23)
• Docklands (12)
• Fitzroy [North] (75)
• North Melbourne (21)
• Port Melbourne (22)
• Prahran (24)
• Richmond (43)
• South Yarra (24)
• Southbank (19)
• St Kilda [East/West] (47)
• West Melbourne (10)
• Windsor (13)

Included are suburbs with 10+ venues. Click on suburb to list venues. Figures taken from MelbournePubs.com 05/05/08.

Some of the arguments raised

Webmasters & blog owners, please contact us with a digest of issues raised so that we can include them in this section.

For

• Restores the balance between Melbourne's vibrant nightlife and the increase in alcohol-related violence, anti-social behaviour and alcohol related health problems.
• Stops pub crawls that lead to violence.
• Reduces the amount of people 'venue hopping' late at night often after they have been kicked out of another venue.
• The majority of alcohol related violence occurs on the streets as people move from venue to venue not in the actual venues themselves.
• Late entry bans control the movement of people and allow police to target key times around 2am. This gives police a greater ability to manage people not in a venue late at night.
• The lock-out will last for five hours, giving police time to clear the streets and for drunks to sober up.

Against

Note: Venues generally close at either 1am, 3am or 5/6/7am (it is unusual for a venue to close at 2am)

• The majority of law-abiding people punished by the actions of a small minority.
• Loss of freedom of choice.
• Reduction in civil liberties.
• Having to choose one venue for the rest of your night.
• Spoils what makes Melbourne a wonderful city.
• Death of the entertainment scene and vibe in Melbourne.
• Hospitality staff unable to go out after work.
• Shift-workers unable to go out after work.
• Bands & DJs unable to travel to late gigs.
• Not being able to meet friends at other venues.
• Venues closing after 3am selectively choosing which patrons to let inside.
• Venues closing after 3am raising cover charges.
• 1am-2am spillover period with the streets full of people.
• Queues outside venues that stay open after 3am forming before 2am.
• Still standing in a queue when the clock hits 2am leads to a large group being stranded on the street.
• Having such a large group of people roaming the streets will only add more problems for an already stretched police force.
• Queues and tension hailing taxis at 2am for those left stranded, thus now unable to continue their night.
• Queues and tension hailing taxis at 3am for those leaving 3am-closing venues, thus now unable to continue their night.
• Small-capacity late-opening venues unable to replace ejected patrons, leading to a sparser crowd.
• Small-capacity late-opening venues unable to replace patrons going home, leading to a sparser crowd.
• Increased operational costs for venues, which will be passed on to the patron.
• Loss of revenue and business for venues.
• Door staff (cashiers, greeters etc) having their hours of work cut back at least 10 hours per week.
• Loss of hospitality jobs.
• 1am happy hours at post-3am venues to lure patrons away from other, earlier-closing venues.
• Vehicle travel to non-curfewed entertainment areas - increased risk of drink-drivers & road accidents.
• Thousands of revellers descending on e.g. Moonee Ponds after 2am.
• Devaluation in city apartment prices.
• Encourages illegal after-hours bars to operate.
• No readily-accessible statistics made available to the public on violence levels.

Other comments

• Overwhelmingly these issues of late night violence, anti-social behaviour, are related to late night clubs and nightclubs. Pubs are concerned that they might be unreasonably targeted in some situations.
• England removed their 11pm closing times in 2005 to stop violence.
• Bendigo 2am curfew is financially hurting venues that must close by 3:00am.

[taken from http://www.2amlockout.com.au/ ]

http://www.melbournelockedout.com/

Douze Pointes

Its the time of the year where people congregate in pubs and lounge rooms around the world [mostly Europe but other pockets celebrate it too] and discuss the highs and lows of this years Eurovision. Each year the winning song is met with howls of protest and a song that didn't make it through the finals is cheered.

Its the time of year when your learn who your real friends are [the ones who love Eurovision] and make new friends as people you felt you have nothing in common with confess their dirty little Eurovision-love secret.

This year was the 53rd competition and it definitely hasn't run out of steam.

For english speaking viewers, BBC radio and television broadcaster Terry Wogan's commentary makes it more entertaining as he makes scathing but honest comments about costumes, hosts, and songs . Hell, he comments discouraging about everything! Bjorn Erichsen, director of Eurovision television, criticised Sir Terry Wogan stating "Wogan is a problem because he makes it ridiculous". I'm pretty sure Milkcrate readers will agree Eurovision contestants do do that by themselves with no help from Wogan!

Here in Australia people love it for the bizarre, but in Europe its a very serious contest. Each country whether or not they make it to the finals, get to vote up to 12 points to their favourites [their favourites usually being their neighbouring countries and the occasional 'Please dont attack and take over our country' vote.] So it comes as little surprise Russia usually makes it into the top 3 songs each year.

Each year it becomes more political due to this voting trend, and you can spot which country will vote for who from a mile away. Like block voting between the eastern, Balkan, Baltic and Nordic countries.

The United Kingdom rarely present a song worthy of winning [though Scooch's queerer than queer Air Hostess last year was pretty fantastic] but they will always be in the final, along with Germany, Spain and France as they finance the whole thing.

Being a non-European I don't understand how exactly it could be taken seriously. It's always full of drag queens, amazing stripping costume changes and very bizarre novelty songs.

I personally love the semi-finals. This is where the cracktastic gems are found. Deemed to be too ridiculous to be a contender for the winning song but are loved around the world as an underdog.

This year's semi-finals favourite was Ireland's "Irelande Douze Pointe" by Dustin The Turkey.
Dustin, a hand puppet, mangles his way through a barely audible rant pleading for 12 points. One UK newspaper reported: "Strait-laced bosses at the European Broadcasting Union are checking the rules to see if Dustin can be BARRED. One highly placed source said: “A puppet on Eurovision would make a mockery of all that the contest stands for.”

Really? It certainly summed up Eurovision for me.

Milkcrate's picks were Spain's Baila el Chiki Chiki, (see right) with their Spanish middle-aged Elvis, Bosnia and Herzegovina's Pokušaj with their elderly brides and a washing line and Crotia's Romanca consisting of two elderly dementia-suffering rappers.

There was one song that was outstanding. Outstanding due to it being semi-serious yet amazing and looking like something that would be on the music channels in the english speaking world - Sebastien Tellier [and his golf cart and bearded ladies] with Divine

The song that did win was Dima Bilan with their song 'Believe' from Russia [surprise surprise!] . It had what seem to be the staple elements of a good Eurovision song - singer dressed in white, painful sincerity, a candle and at least one person rolling around on the floor [although it was missing a wind machine or some stripping]. It also had a violin player as well as an ice skater - that looked like Peter Tork from The Monkees - for no reason what so ever other than to take you're attention away from how boring the song was. Keep a look out for the terrifying Bob Downe-esque twist and smile at the camera from the skater.

The song that came third and SHOULD have won was a song called 'Secret Combination' by Kalomira from Greece. This presentation had a controversial shock in that the singer did not at all strip but but more clothes on!

It had the catchy chorus of:

My secret combination
It 's a mystery for you
Use your imagination
I'm not easy but I'm true

and ended with the dazzling lyrics of:

An open book
An open book
Well I'm sorry I am not
Sometimes I'm acting like a lady
Sometimes woman, sometimes baby

So that's Eurovision over for another year. I cant wait for 2009's strangeness hosted in Russia.

Happy Towel Day Everyone!

Don't Panic

You haven't missed it.

Grab your towels by the hem hitchhikers! Today is May 25th, otherwise known as Towel Day, A day to pay tribute to that hoopiest frood Douglas Adams by taking your towel with you all day long. An annual tradition that began two weeks after the great author's death in 2001.

From The Hitchhiker's Guide:-

A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitch hiker can have. Partly it has great practical value - you can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapours; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a mini raft down the slow heavy river Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or to avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (a mindboggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you - daft as a bush, but very, very ravenous); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.

More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

So don't be a strag, take your towel with you and have a pan galactic gargle blaster.

So Long Douglas, and Thanks for All the Fish!

The Latest in Atrocities

Sequels.

Is there anything more likely to destroy a cult film?

The answer - No.

Forever after any discussion of the film will no longer be talk of the films attributes but of the sequels short comings.

"I loved that movie" will forever have the suffix "but not the sequel."

And the latest to suffer this act of malicious sabotage?

The ominous self-enclosed film about coming to terms with life and death and where one stands between them.

Donnie Darko.

I'm sorry. This isn't a practical joke. This film is in production as we speak.

Donnie Darko's writer/director Richard Kelly has stated on his blog at MySpace
"I haven't read this script. I have absolutely no involvement with this production, nor will I ever
be involved.

I have no control over the rights from our original film, and neither I
nor my producing partner Sean McKittrick stand to make any money from
this film."

Why do bad things happen to good films?

The Sequel's script was written by someone called Nathan Atkins... (??) and is to be directed by Chris Fisher, whose previous works include the critical and commercial failures - Nightstalker, Dirty, and Rampage: The Hillside Strangler Murders.

Fisher has stated: "I am a great admirer of Richard Kelly's film and hope to create a similar world of blurred fantasy and reality."

Which is good, because we all know that when trying to emulate someone else's vision, you're doomed certain of success!

It seems that only one person from the original has decided to return - Daviegh Chase will reprise her role as Donnie's younger sister Samantha Darko.


From Screen Daily:

"The story picks up seven years after the first film (and Donnie's death) when little sister Samantha Darko and her best friend Corey are now 18 and on a roadtrip to Los Angeles when they are plagued by bizarre visions.
[...]

Simon Crowe of Velvet Octopus added: "I think there is a new generation of cinema-goers who will be very excited to see this film."
[...]

Crowe quipped to ScreenDaily: "Donnie's not in [the new film] but there are meteorites and rabbits."


Well then. At least there's rabbits.

A Movie to See - Southland Tales

Holy crap, I loved this movie.

As it was dollar Tuesday at the local video rental place and a day off work for me, I was at the video shop early. My only problem: Trying to find something that's not crap. I find it terribly hard to find movies that aren't entirely predictable. I mostly hope to get a few surprises along the way before reaching an obvious ending.

I grabbed a few dvds off the shelf that I hadn't heard too much about. One was Gabriel, a thoroughly disappointing film about archangels fighting for control of purgatory. It seemed like it could've been something special but it wasn't. Maybe some more research and a few more script drafts first.

The second was Tin Man, a mini-series "based" on The Wizard of Oz. There wasn't a great deal to it but it was a bit of fun. Unfortunately the video shop clerk forgot the second dvd. I'll have to watch the final part tomorrow, after bruising some skulls.

The third was Southland Tales. I saw the cover. The words "Sarah Michelle Gellar" slapped me across the face. As a long time Buffy fan, I immediately picked it up.

"I think I heard something about this a while back," I thought to myself. "Doesn't Buffy play a porn star?"

And so, without closer inspection of the cover of the dvd, I paid my three dollars and took my pile of plastic home for an afternoon of entertainment.

Later that night, after being thoroughly pissed that I couldn't watch the end of Tin Man, I grumpily threw the Southland Tales dvd into the machine.

Four seconds into the movie I got my first surprise.

I paused. "Did someone say my favourite phrase - The end of the world?"

I immediately perked up. I have a penchant for end of the world stories.

Then came the cast. A number of familiar faces popped up all through the movie. One in particular was Christopher Lambert. I had only yesterday been thinking about an old movie of his called Nirvana and wondered to myself whether he'd made anything recently. Well, I got my answer.

Then, around the time that Jon Lovitz arrived on screen and did his dirty deed, I knew I loved this movie. I watched as the strings that would soon intertwine each revealed themselves.

I wondered, "Who came up with this hilarious and brilliant piece of work?"

I found out on the imdb that it was Richard Kelly. Writer of another favourite of mine - Donnie Darko, another movie I had picked up knowing nothing about, except that it starred "that guy from Bubble Boy".

I watched on and began to notice several similarities between Donnie Darko and Southland Tales. For instance, they both feature a character with a bullet wound to the eye.

Also, much like Donnie Darko, when the credits rolled I sat fixated on the screen.

Mercy Arms And The Undead

COME ALONG TO THE MELBOURNE ZOMBIE SHUFFLE.

The best way to spend the day is shuffling through Melbourne city with a mass of other zombies.

Photos from last few years zombie shuffles.

Melbourne Zombie shuffle on facebook.

And also some music:

Check out some Mercy Arms tunes here.

Blog of the Week - The Black Oven.

"I want to bake but I'm just too Evil"

Does this sound familiar?

Well, if so, this blog is for you.

During my daily Boing Boing trudging I was stopped by a skeletal hand reaching up from the ground, wrapping it's bleach white knuckles around my ankle.

'Todd!' I said, "Cut that out!"

Then, as I looked back to the computer screen, I laid my eyes on the most gloomily delectable cupcake I had ever seen.

"Le Petit Gateau du Les Legions Noire - Traditional cupcakes inspired by untraditional black metal.

In a perfect world everything would be as stark and void of color as these cupcakes. They are baneful in their absolute disdain for your tastelessness, and are true misanthropes as far as baked goods go. "

It's called - The Black Oven - Immaculate Confections Succumbed to Northern Darkness.

So, take a break from burning that kitten and make yourself some cookies.

Link

Starting Them Early On The Road To Skanksville

Why do people insist on squeezing every last drop of sexiness and sleaze out of pole dancing?

First skanks from the suburbs learnt how to wrap themselves around a pole for 'exercise' and now they are making an 'at home' game set up so the kids can get fit & learn some valuable skills in the art of slutiness too! Yes, there will be wii strip.

This sort of thing will encourage ordinary people to think they are sexy and co-ordinated.
Some people have Wii party nights where friends battle each other for top score. So maybe soon they can all watch and cheer their friends as they rub their butt crack up and down the wii-mote, take their clothes off and encourage money to be tucked into the knicker elastic.

Hopefully it comes with some anti bacteria wipes and some amnesia pills.

I also hear they are encouraging use of wii's in aged care centres to keep the seniors active.
So maybe soon Granny can work that replacement hip around a plastic pole and earn herself an extra 'cup of tea and biscuit' from Grandpa. And perhaps when everyone else is sitting looking out the window in boredom, she can take her dentures out for him in private.

I do hope it has a realistic points system. "You have earned $200 in tips, do you want to":
* take up offer of to double your points by giving a blow job to an ugly man who has food stains down the front of his shirt.
* Spend points on drugs to deal with your "job".

What's next for wii?
What are your suggestions, dear Milkcrate readers?

Current Fashions for the Fugly

Dear Average Suburban Male,

Please do not wear white sunglasses. They make you look like a tool. They looked crap in the 80s and they still look crap, especially now you're a lot fatter from too much KFC and you shave your head so people won't suspect the truth: you've gone bald.

And please, please, PLEASE if you do choose to wear them, don't wear it with one of these (see picture below).



















Thanks in advance,
Milkcrate Magazine

Tori F*%#ing Spelling

Tori Spelling refuses to stop cursing in front of her young children, because she uses expletives to express herself. The former Beverly Hills, 90210 star insists she doesn't need to curb her swearing in front of her one-year-old son Liam - because she uses bad language in an innocent manner. She says: "I'm kind of a little girl potty mouth because I say it with such vulnerability. I don't have to censor myself in front of my son, it's not that bad."

Im a little confused, Tori. How can it be innocent? Isn't that the point of a swearsie to be rude?
Do you cry when you swear? Is that being vulnerable?

Are you trying to be cute by saying "I'm kind of a little girl potty mouth" because we've all seen your face. You cant fool anyone.

Svetlana and Ivanka : Funny

Elizabeth Sandy, a dear friend and one of the leads in lesbo-noir-extravaganza (can you call your own film an "extravaganza"?) wrote and co stars in this hilarious short... Enjoy. It's 3:53 minutes of some fun, politically incorrect, low budget, high laughs, short filmmaking, shot on location here in LA LA land.
http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/bbdd38257f
And of course, drop her a note, or give her a vote.

Get thee to Ding Dong Lounge

You too can be like that surprised woman and Roman Tucker from Rocket Science!

It's a double serving of Corbett at Ding Dong Lounge on the 18th of April*! See Sixfthick as well as Gentle Ben & His Sensitive Side with support from The Knockouts.

In related news, Rocket Science are playing at the East Brunswick Club on the 10th of May.

The surprised woman pictured above might be seen at Ding Dong, Pony or Tankerville should things get desperate.


*Bugger! Milkcrate are off to see The Raveonettes at The Hi-Fi Bar that night!

Brushes with Fame: How to Cope With Fallen Rock Musicians

I am linked into a government-assisted health organisation for people unable to deal with the real world just yet.

So what do you do when the person that’s helping you turned out to be someone you recognise? When it’s someone you saw on the TV as a kid, when you have one of their albums and would have gone to their gigs if you were in the same city at the time?

I ignored the fact.

A few times I thought, This guy’s fallen so badly he’s now having to deal with me instead of Dylan Lewis. At times I thought about telling him that I knew who he was.

For a guy in a Melbourne band that was popular in the '90s (who isn’t Tim Rogers), he probably may not get that many people who recognise him. It might have been exciting for him.

But I thought, No, this is all about me. For the duration time we are working together I'm going to play dumb. In the future, at some time, I'm going to be famous so he should be happy he’s working with me! He’s the past, I'm the future. And besides, he isn’t Tim Rogers!

So for a year we both played dumb. We spent a lot of time discussing music and I gave him hints I knew who he was by naming nearly every band around the time they were popular. I even stated that each of those bands, and particular band members from each, were my personal heroes for a little time.

He pretended not to know these people personally; he even feigned ignorance of some of them.

I'm wondering if that year of music talk was a bit soul-crushing for him. I wondered if he cried into his pillow, He knows everyone else, why doesn’t he know mmmmeeeeeeeeeee?! Weren’t we good enough?!”

Then he announced he was leaving for greener pastures.

We had one meeting left. I thought I’d confess then. I couldn’t let the opportunity pass.

In a café in Richmond, we sat down for the goodbye talk.

I handed over a CD of theirs that was signed by the band.

He took one look at it and laughed then got excited. I surprised him with my knowledge of his band.

When I lived in the country with my folks I spent a hell of a lot of time memorising facts and trivia about Australian bands in the '90s. So I think I frightened him with my memory and knowledge. Especially since I have trouble remembering yesterday!

So now that we both were honest about who and what we were, we got down to gossip.

Did you know that Molly Meldrum is available to be in a film clip if you give him a bottle of vodka? I didn’t either - but it makes sense!

Did you know that scumbags from radio stations hock off the media copies of albums they get before the album's officially released? What a bunch of arseholes!

Did you know that Ross McLennan is awesome? I did!

I've resisted adding him on Myspace since I met him, because that would have giving it all away.

I resisted going to a gig of his at my local pub. One time I saw him at a gig I was at.

I'm not clear of the protocol of what to do when seeing someone you work with, be they a doctor, shrink, teacher or case worker, and you're drunk off your skull.

I hid.

I think I did the right thing: I didn’t want to explain why I was dancing to Love Is A Battlefield in the middle of the dance floor at our next appointment.

So kids, be careful. Musicians need a day job to support their recording habits and they could pop up anywhere so you’re forced to pretend not to know who the fuck they are/were for the good of the situation.

It might bruise their ego a bit but it's going to help the professionalism. It will give both parties dignity. You don’t want to remind them of how much of a fanboy you are. You don’t want them to ask you if you remember a song of theirs. You don’t want to see the desperation in their eyes that screams “make me feel famous again!”

If you ever find Tim Rogers hanging over your office cubicle asking for some paperwork, don’t bring up his love of ripping off Rolling Stones songs or remind him of that night he was in the Tote snogging young men. He might attack you like he did Mark Holden or act like at the 2004 Falls Festival.

Info about 'The man who isn't Tim Rogers' is here. He has a swanky album out.

Open Letter

Dear Ryan Adams,

I know you probably have your fair share of stalkers. And I am probably one of them, because I feel like we would be friends if I looked more like Parker Posey and you lived in Melbourne. I didn't think your Tumblr blog was bipolar, and you're right: reachin' out is what normal people do.

If I had a robot cat, I would probably call her "Daryl Hannah Cat The Robot" too. Actually, now I'm thinking about it, I might have called her "Rose McGowan Cat" because I saw Planet Terror recently. And any girl that can pull off having a machine gun for a leg and still look sexy DESERVES to have lots of things named after her.

Love Milkcrate's Unicorn. xx

PS: Ryan, I never had the need to Google unicorn before now, let alone find a link for the bitch! So I thank you for opening another faucet for The Big MC.

Related Link

PPS: And to quote stereogum.com, "From now on if you are going to slag off Ry's Tumblr, don't call it bipolar; its name is Foggy"

The Effect of Anthony Morgan on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds

An hour with Anthony Morgan, is much like an hour with an uncle who doesn't visit the family much. He rambles and attempts to instil life lessons into you gently via stories all with fondness.

Anthony was a mainstay of the comedy circuit for ten years, and having a regular 'correspondent spot' on Channel 7's Denton before throwing it all in and running off to small town Tasmania to build sheds and feed chooks, woodworking and other farm activities before coming over on the ferry to Melbourne with his ute and dog for the Melbourne comedy festival.

Unlike other comedians where you can see them rehashing the 'stories' and you see the gag coming a mile away, Morgan starts on one topic, get distracted by another story before winding back to the original topic, usually with the help of the audience reminding him of what the first topic was.

In this year's show, 'Unrepentant' , Morgan started with taping his 'setlist' of topics to the microphone so the audience could remind him what he had missed and what was next. Topics such as his recent stabbing, Edmund Hiliary's death, travelling snake wranglers and Tidy Towns.

Much like an uncle he was disgusted and annoyed that the syllabus at school has now changed and we all hadn't read The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds, and how some things have change in his lifetime and we all listened in wonder.

He also talked a lot about small town community life. And being a country boy myself, it was a pleasure to be reminded of how things work in the country. Morgan made it sound so good I almost wanted to catch the next train home to see my folks.

The promotional photos for the show were photos taken 12 years ago. He gave an opening announcement 'this guy in the photos isn't playing tonight' and apologised if anyone was disappointed. I don't think anyone was at all.

Morgan may claim memory loss but he's sharp as a tack.



Anthony Morgan's 'Unrepentant' plays until 13th of April at the
European Bier Cafe
Cnr Exhibition & Lt Collins Sts, Melbourne VIC 3000

Blog of the Week

While our international correspondent Rohan is away on business (Romy and Michelle style!), he's so dedicated to the readers of Milkcrate he's still managed to ensure we have a new Blog of the Week!

Cast your browsers upon this baby: The Fail Blog. Marvel at the various failures of drunkards, woman drivers and bad signage! If you get addicted, like us here at Milkcrate, you might even scroll back further enough to see a contestant on Who Wants to be a Millionaire struggle to determine whether and elephant is bigger than the moon!

Ground Up

Hyped literally to death, Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino's 1970s-style exploitation double bill Grindhouse flopped so disastrously in the United States that its release in Australia was delayed for almost a year. But now, finally, for just a few days more at the Astor, we're getting the whole enchilada: 193 minutes of blood, sex and all-round mayhem, complete with hokey censorship warnings and funny trailers for imaginary films from a range of guest directors.

On paper, Rodriguez's Texan horror-sci-fi hybrid Planet Terror might look like a full meal all by itself, with zombies, go-go-dancers, crazy babysitters, and a last-minute plot twist involving the hunt for Osama Bin Laden. But in practice the multiple hooks don't hook together: the film achieves but does not transcend the status of a disjointed B-movie best watched late at night in a venue where attention can freely wander.

Tarantino's infinitely superior, full-to-bursting Death Proof is many things: a slasher movie on wheels, a love letter to stuntmen and stuntwomen, an examination of the sado-masochistic drives underlying narrative. Every last detail is openly fetishised, above all when it comes to the actresses: Vanessa Ferlito's wiggling buttocks, Zoe Bell's New Zealand accent, Rose McGowan's smart mouth and platinum blonde hair.

Less sympathetic viewers may fail to realise that the point of it all isn't camp excess so much as a desire to return cinema to its origins, which means the 1970s only because this is roughly when these filmmakers happened to grow up. Indeed, Grindhouse in its entirety could be seen
as a treatise on the medium's two basic, opposed impulses: towards fantasy, and towards documentary.

Thus Planet Terror is built around a digitally-manufactured image - a woman with a machine gun in place of her right leg - which would have been inconceivable in the heyday of big-screen exploitation. By contrast, spectacle in Death Proof consists primarily of stunts performed in front of the camera by performers genuinely risking life and limb.

It remains slightly anomalous for Tarantino and Rodriguez should be campaigning to bring down-and-dirty thrills back to the movie theatre, given that cheaply-made action-horror is hardly extinct (the distance between Planet Terror and, say, the Resident Evil franchise is not that great). There is, moreover, a level of failure built into the whole project of recreating an ideally unselfconscious movie-going experience in the fussiest way imaginable, lovingly simulating every last scratch on a supposedly beat-up print.

The genius of Death Proof is that Tarantino grasps this perversity and runs with it all the way to the end. Rodriguez, for his part, seems blithely unaware of the problem. But maybe that's the reason the association between these two has lasted - because Tarantino knows, in
his heart, that his friend is the pure naive artist he could never be.

Grindhouse (MA) screens nightly at the Astor Theatre, Melbourne, till March 30.

Wot's Going On With The Stars?

Yep. Milkcrate is in on the pulse of celeb gossip. Don't get me wrong, we're no Perez Hilton, but we do like to keep track of what's going on with the stars. Aww, we're just like MX!!

I know Milkcrate's readers are constantly asking themselves 'How does Demi Moore keep her skin looking so youthful?!'. Well in true dedication to it's readers, Milkcrate brings you the answer -- it's leeches. Not just any leeches from a swamp though, these are highly trained medical leeches, cutting edge technology, according to Demi.

Apparently the leeches get 'super-drunk' on her blood, and it helps her 'detoxify'. Hot. Last I heard, once you remove blood it's gone, not 'freshened up'.

In other freaky face news, Priscilla Presley got a hit of uber-crap botox recently, when she became a 'victim' of Dr Daniel Serrano (AKA Dr Jiffy Lube), who apparently hustles poor innocent celebs out of their hard earned buck by infusing them with low grade silicon -- normally used to lubricate car parts!

According to Priscilla's site "Beauty and Priscilla Presley are almost synonymous". Almost. Not quite. I like to use the expression "Priscilla Presley is in the eye of the beholder".

Blog of the Week

Milkcrate would like to draw your attention to two things.

1. We now have a segment called Blog of the Week, which may or may not appear on a weekly basis.

2. Milkcrate's Blog of the Week for this week is Photoshop Distasters. Clickety click -- if you're one of those who get a kick out of pointing out bad continuity and shitty retouching, you will not be disappointed.

Smells Like Converse

Shoe manufacturer Converse, have announced a line of sneakers to commemorate the late Kurt Cobain -- fans of the 90's grunger will now be able to rock their very own morbid piece of footwear with the re-release of the Converse One Star, the very shoe Cobain was reported to be wearing when he shot himself in 1994.

The new One Star will feature a print of Cobain's signature next to the Converse Star logo, and gracing the inside of the shoe the words "Punk rock means freedom". Does it? How retro!

The shoes have been approved by Courtney Love & the Cobain estate and further details will be released by Converse in April.

Cheap Thrills and Spills for the Kiddies

Nikki Maloo’s Guide to Educational Entertainment

One to many busy days this week, and before you know it there's a long weekend and a couple of small people nagging to go to the zoo or, even worse, blocking your view of the TV while you're trying to rewatch Season 2 of Desperate Housewives. Nevermind! Milkcrate is here to solve your dilemmas with a few handy suggestions on the cheap ways to keep the kids busy this Easter break.

• Why not pull out the old record player and play some records backwards? As your kids decipher the satanic lyrics they’ll improve their listening skills and learn about one of the world’s less conventional faiths at the same time!

• Get creative! Let the kids invent a fictional character – a missing pet or sibling perhaps. They can post ‘missing’ signs around the area; that way the whole neighbourhood can join in the fun!

• Dads. In the olden days hunting was a fantastic way to bond with your child, boosted by the excitement that there might be a nasty accident or even a fatality! These days suburbia doesn’t offer the elk and fox hunting of yore, but there are still a wonderful selection of neighbourhood cats and native birds to shoot at! Can’t afford a gun? Share the experience some more by constructing a sling-shot together!

• Home Theatre. Instead of sitting in front of the plasma, why not get the kids to write and perform their own play based on modern history. Stuck for ideas? How about a musical set in Villawood Detention Centre, or September 11^th: Osama Bin Laden can easily be recreated with an old white sheet and some shoe polish!

Chloe Lattanzi. Face. Odd.

It' really no longer a question of whether or not Chloe Lattanzi looks like her father Matt Lattanzi, or her mother Olivia Newton John... Rather, I think the pertinant issue is whether or not she even looks human anymore. Sure, she's had an eating disorder. Sure, she's a terrible singer... but she clearly needs to see a therapist, not a(nother) surgeon.
Chloe. Please. Stop. Now.

Scarlett Johansson

Breaking news this morning reports that a rabid Scarlett Johansson fan paid $40,100 for a date with the actress, where he will very likely be greeted with numerous security guards ready to pound the crap out of him should he so much as look in the lovely Scarlett's direction.

Scarlett, it seems, is a bit of a star, you see. I'm still not entirely sure why - her recent performance in The Other Boleyn Girl was flat and did nothing but prove Natalie Portman a far superior actress - but all the same she's getting a bit of attention. Woody Allen is even doing a bit of Scarlett-love now he's making shit movies.

Which brings me to Scarlett's upcoming project -- He's Just Not That Into You, based on the New York Time's bestseller of the same name. So, I know I digress, but really, I still get giddy at the idea someone can write a book that basically says 'Der, you're totally fug, he doesn't want you' and people will buy it! I love the USA.

News

Hello Milkcraters! Oh you good folk, out there loving your beer and keyrings!

Quickly we just want to mention when we said here (just a day ago!) that we have five contributors, we lied! We have six now! As you may have noticed from his wonderful debut post, Rohan has joined us, all the way from LA! Oooo! We're so international now!

Nellie McKay : Crazy, but Fun.

It’s almost too easy these days to slip into a vintage gown, pop on some costume jewellery, talk excessively about your pets and call yourself an eccentric. (Hell, I know I’d wear more vintage frocks, if I had bosoms). Nellie Mckay is the real deal. She even plays the ukulele.

I was invited to go see a show at Largos (*does obnoxious LA accent* “Oh you know Largos, right? Like… Largos…. Oh my god… Largos, is like, y’know, like one of the hippest LA nightspots, like, totally…”) and whilst I baulked at the cover charge : I’m so not in a position to pay $20.00 US for someone I have barely heard of…. I’m SO SO glad I did.

Nellie is blessed with a remarkable voice that echoes Rosemary Clooney's light touch, channels Doris Day's optimism (somewhat ironically) and occasionally comes to the fore as a Courtney Love style “Whatthefuckisyourproblemfuckfeatures?” snarl. She has the most beautiful piano playing hands…. But wait…. It’s not because she has some eating disorder of the Hollywood variety, it’s because she plays exceptional and complex piano. Bless. She’s humble, fun, improvises, takes request and has a dry sardonic wit that translates well to the quiet piano bar type crowd.

She sings of the usual things which seem to occupy songs these days (love, hating Mr Bush), but also sets sanitoriums and suicide to a quirky upbeat piano (Ding Dong!), and has arguably the world’s best original song about zombies (Zombie).



Google her. Buy her music. Enjoy her music.

Tic Toc Tokyo

Milkcrate loves Tic Toc Tokyo - it's true! Ok, well it's confirmed that at least 2 our of 5 current contributors love Tic Toc Tokyo and at least 1 of them will be attending their EP launch in Melbourne's Northcote Social Club tonight.

So, plug:

T T T

15 Mar 2008, 08:00 PM
301 High St. Northcote, Melbourne, Victoria
Cost : $10 on the door

With Plug-In City & Bachelor of Arts.

Even better, Panic! resident DJ Nathan Jones will be DJing up a storm between bands.

Check out Tic Toc Tokyo here.
Check out Nath here.

*Photo stolen from TTT's Myspace where it is credited to Adricongirl.

Keira Knightley

In a Zoolander moment, Keira Knightley has come out with this gem:

"Australian Aborigines say that with every photograph that is taken, a piece of your soul goes with it."

"And there are some days when I kind of believe that."

Oh, the woes of being a film actress! It's a tough life for poor jaded Keira, with all these cameras stealing her soul. Lucky the Australian Aborigines were able to provide her with a tribal belief she could identify with! She's so deep.


Above: Keira Knightley SO hating having her photo taken.

Milkcrate Advice

"Dear Milkcrate,

My son is a professional stripper and has offered to perform at my best friend's hens night. Everything thinks it will be a hoot, and while I try to support him in his chosen career, I don't feel this is a good idea. What should I do?

From Partypooper"


Dear Partypooper,

My advice to you is to approach the event as a bonding exercise. As children grow into adulthood, it's important to find activities that the family can enjoy together in a more mature setting.

That way, parents and their adult children can learn to relate as equals, while still sharing a respectful and supportive relationship. Naturally, part of this process is to show an appreciation of your child's chosen vocation.

Your smiling face in the crowd of writhing, clapping, erotically charged middle aged women will mean the world to your precious baby boy - as well as give him the chance to say to you and the world, 'Hey mamma! I'm a man now!'.

And what better way to say 'I'm proud of you, son!' than by allowing him to blindfold you before removing his sequined g-string with your teeth?

So come on, Partypooper - Put in your dentures, it's time to get happy!

- Milkcrate

Moustaches - Half Iago, Half Fu Manchu, All Bastard

A lot of you may have woken up on December the 1^st and sighed in relief that November was over and you wouldn’t have to see a swarm of moustaches when you walked down your local high street.

But when you went to your local pub for a celebratory beer to celebrate the end of Movember, you saw that many fellow patrons had not picked up a razor.

You hoped that in January they would rid themselves of their upper lip (and sometimes, in horrible examples, lower lip fuzz) but no, they were still there, in all their patchy glory.

I am not against facial hair. It can make a man look distinguished and give him a look of old world class. What would Frank Zappa, Snidely Whiplash, Lemmy, John Waters, or Groucho Marx be with out their nose-nieghbours? What would have Salvador Dalí done without his waxy little artpiece? Would Fu Manchu be remembered if it weren’t for his catfish face? Hitler had a nifty little number, although he managed to make that particular style go crashing out of fashion.

I wouldn’t be so disgusted with the common mans facial hair if they used styling product. There’s a whole world of waxes out there to keep it looking stunning so why is all we see on the streets are ‘baby's first pornstache’ and out-of-control 12 o'clock shadows?

Who wouldn’t want to grow a hairy pet on their upper lip that requires a snood to keep it in place at night-time so it didn’t elope with your hamster when you had you eyes closed?

If you want to prove you have generous ball sacks, gentleman PLEASE attempt more than a Flavour-Saver and some embarrassing fuzz. The size of your 'stache proves the potency of your swimmers. So gentlemen, go for the handlebar! How else are women to know you're virile?

Don’t be half arsed - grow a full ‘tache that proves you’ve finished with puberty!

And the good news is, if you’re an un-cultured bore, all you have to do is fondle the ends of your hairybeast and everyone will think you’re pondering the great mysteries of human existence instead of trying to remember if the pizza shop on the corner is open at 3am.


For more information go to http://ministryofmoustaches.0catch.com or http://www.worldbeardchampionships.com

[photo of Michael 'Atters' Attree]