Sunday, April 4, 2010

Popstar Poetry.

Well haven't you seen the indie disco kid,
Scrabbling on the floor for his poppers' lid?
Pushing to the front of the cubicle queue,
With a pocket of powder that's soaked right through?

Haven't you seen him throwing some shapes,
Blurring the line between humans and apes?
Desperate to score but he'll leave alone
And give it one last shot on the night bus home.

It's always the same, I know what you're thinking:
A short, sharp song about dancing and drinking.
Spiced up with a fucking swear word or two.
Stick it on the web and watch the hype come true.


Friday, April 2, 2010

Jethro, Mick, and Losing My Religion

Via With Asian Stereotypes, and Russh

Sunday, March 28, 2010

lies lies lies

Via Ksubi eyewear, the Cobra Snake, Bec Parsons,

Friday, March 19, 2010