Flavor of the Biweek III

Heartbeat - Kopecky Family Band : Go to the Park

Sometimes, a fun thing to do is be self-indulgently miserable. In autumn, a world in the process of dying makes depression both easy and satisfying. However, there comes a time when that whole "this beautiful grey atmosphere reflects my beautiful grey soul" thing gets fucking annoying, and you need to stop brooding, already. It doesn't make you deep. Enter  the Kopecky Family Band. Hailing from Nashville, Tennessee, the Kopecky Family Band recently released their first full-length album, "Kids Raising Kids," and you should go listen to it, because who doesn't have love for Nashville? I know I do--southern accents get me every time. Not to mention the very reason I clicked on this video in the first place, which is the word "Kopecky." Kopecky! It's fun to say and hear. My inability to resist bobbing my shoulders up and down to the baseline of "Heartbeat" informed me that it is this week's antidote for autumn's inherent seriousness--because when bobbing is involved, things can't be taken too seriously. So go to the park, find some flowers that have made it this far without shriveling up, take off your shoes, feel that grass between your little toes, listen to this happy song and remember that pessimism doesn't equal profoundness.

-   Beast

Flavor of the Biweek II

“Future Starts Slow” by The Kills: Driving Past the Heartbreaker’s House

It was all an accident. Suddenly, while listening to this dark grey vagueness of mature longing that is The Kills’ latest album and driving around an area that I shall not mention should that attract unwanted attention, I realized I felt nostalgic. I like that feeling, though, and sometimes I do creepy things like this on purpose—you know Dragon has a crush on you if it looks like raccoons partied in your underwear drawer.

But I was not wearing my driving gloves the other night since I did not have a mission planned where impeccable scramming skills were necessary. I was simply doing ordinary errands and then there it was in my throat again…that gumball of someone else’s acrid tobacco breath expanding in gratefulness for a much needed heartbreak. Remember how you insisted so much you let yourself be drained of hope? Yet it keeps overflowing because that is what love is all about, man: “You can swing, you can flail, you can blow what's left of my right mind. I don't mind.”

VV and Hotel entrust us with a vigorously vulnerable song that provides a soundtrack to the way your face reacts as you drive past the heartbreaker’s house. Shoot intense glances at your mirrors and take in the partially reflected hot mess that you have become, so detached from the perkiness you always forgot to downplay in this fucking place when you were still invited inside. Sunglasses and cigarettes are essential in this conclusion to your current emotional state: “There's a time for the second best, and there's a time when the feeling's gone. But it's hard to be hard, I guess, when you're shaking like a dog,” and then you remember how insecure that person made you feel and you are kind of glad you are no longer dealing with their indecisiveness because now you can find this sort of comfort to your passions. Is there anything better than feeling sickly poetic?

If you could not find an answer to that question, then let The Kills be part of your sick poetry.

-       “Fried My Little Brains,” for when you have consumed large quantities of hard drugs and you don’t give a fuck about being caught loitering

-       “Love Is a Deserter,” yeah, I’d say

-       “Hook and Line,” since you liked them more than they liked you but you kept pretending like you could somehow change that

And if you are unfortunate enough to be a heartbreaker and cannot seem to find any of this useful to your daily routine, remember the golden rule of heartbreaking: you only learn to do it if it is done to you first. So start digging up those old wounds and fill up the gas tank because we are on an obsessive excursion to all those places where you wish you had not been not good enough.

-       Dragon

Flavor of the Biweek I

(In which we each present our song of the week along with an activity/situation we think goes well with it.)

"Phenomena" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Masturbation

Any song by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs can easily be employed for most sexual activities, but this week it's this song for this activity. This band makes you feel so sexy that you don't even need a partner to enjoy the orgasmic sounds. Does anyone even care to find out what the hell Karen O is singing about? Sex? I don't know. Just keep singing to me, you twisted thing. It's 10 AM while you're getting ready, swingin' your hips in front of the mirror and suddenly out comes the short skirt and, oh, look! Red lipstick. Dayum, let's get this day started. Jerking off in the morning is pretty lame, so just listen to the song throughout the day, leave it on repeat, and wait till you get home late at night, so tense and ready to have yourself a nice music master sesh.

I can't think of what commercial this was in. Okay, I Googled it: Cadillac ATS. That's a pretty sexy car. And that means that if you think you don't know what song this is, you definitely have heard it before. It gives the experience another layer because you two knew each other before -- just not like this. How romantic.

And it's so passionate. A whole four minutes and twelve seconds. Yeah, I like that in a song. Enough time for "something like a phenomena, baby. You're gonna get your body off. Hot time, kid. Hot, time kid. It's cold under the blanket." But don't worry about the meaning because "Phenomena," like any good song, could totally just be about heroin. Need more Yeah Yeah Yeahs private time classics?

- "Date with the Night," one of the finest of this genre that is also popularly listened to for cunnilingual purposes
- "Heads Will Roll," because it's all about the ohs
- "Tick," for when you're angry given the fact that you can't come for some reason, dammit!

Good luck and goodbye for now. Send us your results and we will use the data wisely. Tune in next week for more of whatever it is we do here. Now go enjoy your Thursday night. Because Thursday night is the night to have a party in your pants with your hands.

- Dragon
...for more of my sexy stuff, click there.

She knows she's outrageous, but she's not confused.

I don't think I've ever seen someone with such perfectly representative hair.

Write it down.

Drink to The Walking Dead

Sometimes during a zombie apocalypse, singing nostalgic Irish songs around a fire just doesn't cut it. These are the times you need to break into an abandoned bar and drink until you can't feel anymore. For those of you who feel the weight of the Walking Dead (and for those of you who don't: you can play, too), here's a medicinal regimen for your favorite horrifying addiction:

Drink once if:

-a walker is killed

-walkers are trying to attack people through a barrier (i.e. banging against gates/glass)*

-someone uses the word "walker" or "geek"
-someone cries
-Lori's bra straps are showing
-they talk about ammo/supplies

-someone's jaw clenches

-someone inhales dramatically

-someone makes a mournful comment/speech and no one has a response

-Daryl is surprisingly gentle

-someone points a gun to a head but doesn't shoot**

-leaves are heard rustling, or an equally foreboding sound

-there's a romantic moment amidst the misery
-a character mentions and/or acts morose about his/her chance of dying at any moment
-you remember Merle***
-Daryl is a badass
-there's conflict about whether to act selfishly or in the interest of the group
-a character is torn between his/her pre-apocalyptic, civilized self and his/her post-apocalyptic, animalistic self
-the characters are pillaging

-someone is missing

-that person is found
-they split up
-they shouldn't have split up

Drink twice if:

-a walker that seems dead is actually alive

-there's an ominous shot through a window (as if by an unseen observer)

-they're sitting around a fire
-T-Dog has a viable plot line
-one or more of the characters are huddled over a map

-flies are pictured swarming around dead bodies

-there's a surprise herd of walkers

-someone escapes just in the nick of time (re: zombies)

-streets are conveniently empty of cars

-they talk about who makes the calls
-they find a new place to stay

-a character is bitten and/or dies
-blood splatters onto the camera
-someone gets badly hurt
-the characters seem happy
-someone grapples with suicide

Finish your cup if:
-one or more of the characters gets out of a seemingly impossible zombie situation and we are not shown how they accomplish this

-no one knows where Carl is

*drink twice if they break through the barrier
**drink twice if they do shoot
***drink twice if your curiosity about Merle is killing you

-Beast (and Dragon)

The Homme-liness of Josh Homme: A Serenade

Queens of the Stone Age is perfect music for driving, drugs, and sex. Ideally, we could do all these activities at the same time in a triad of awesomeness, but since it’s hard for us ladies to get road dome while doing lines off the steering wheel (the whole multitasking thing must be a myth), let’s focus on the most important part of the equation: copulation in a song, because if there’s something I’d like getting stuck in my throat, it’s your cock, Josh Homme. I’m sure it tastes so good. Oh, but I knew it would.

I yearn for you to whisper secrets in my ear, slowly dancing cheek to cheek. No fire, no gun, no rope, no stone. But mostly I just want to drink wine and screw. This life is a trip when you're psycho in love. It’s something sweet to throw away, but I want something good to die for 'cause I'm so bored with myself. Any way, any time and any place; I'll just hang around on your street waiting. When you coming home? I can't wait forever. I've always been alone.

Where, oh, where have you been, my love? I'm wondering where the hell you been. Come, let's play along and let each other lose. You're the only thing I've got that I can't seem to get enough. I would beg, I would plead, I would shake for you. I wanna be crushed by your sweet caress. You say your yes button broke to automatic, but whatever we do, I won't tell anyone. You’re so tired. You’re wired, too. You’re a mess, I guess, and you’ve left me crawling, staring straight at the sun. Touch your lips to mine that we may make a kiss that can pierce through death and survive. Break me, lay me to waste, turn me into sweet nothings and kiss me goodbye, cozied up to the toilet, face stuck to the floor. I go lower and lower and lower, lower living easy. Young, dumb drinking semen. Underwater…underwater one day. I’ll show you a hole in me I never even saw.  I wanna lick you too much. I hear you coming, ooh, ah, baby.

Education is so lame when I bitch and I moan. I’m a loose girl, you’re a guy, and daddy got his gun loaded. You want this fat and soft, pink and weak foot and thigh, tongue and cheek? I'm so goddamn slick, baby, it's a sin. I got nicotine, Valium, Vicodin, marijuana, ecstasy and alcohol. And Co-co-co-co-co-cocaine. I string ‘em up, I cut ‘em down. As long as the blue pill opens your eyes, is there a better way?

I just can't recall what started it all, or how to begin in the end. Maybe it was the hair like maple, skin like cream, hands of gold, there's velvet eyes…Yeaaah…oh! Look at you now.

I am no saint and make no claims to being in the right, but I won’t take this broken pussy elsewhere. It's just your love is like a drug. You wanna know why you feel so hollow? Because you are. You're missing out. Get sweet revenge with my blood. You wanna know how I do it? I do it all right. Burn this witch—burn to ash and bone! I don't care if it hurts, just so long as it's real. I’ll pout my bottom lip while you crack the whip. I know what you want. It's candy to come to. I’m the dog at your feet out of sight and out of time. Yours, and if only, if only, if only you could stay forever.

Or, you know, counter proposal: I go home and jerk off to Queens of the Stone Age. 

-          From the clitoris of Dragon, with generous handies by Beast

Medication, No One Knows, I Think I Lost My Headache, Little Sister, I Never Came, Walking on the Sidewalks, You Can’t Quit Me Baby, Go with the Flow, Regular John, Long Slow Goodbye, Into the Hollow, This Lullaby, How to Handle a Rope, Tangled Up in Plaid, In My Head, First It Giveth, You Got a Killer Scene There, Man…, Battery Acid, The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret, Turnin’ on the Screw, The Sky Is Fallin’, The Blood Is Love, 3’s and 7’s, I Was a Teenage Hand Model, Do It Again, The Fun Machine Took a Shit! And Died, Give the Mule What He Wants, Monsters in the Parasol, Skin on Skin, Leg of Lamb, You Would Know, Mosquito Song, Misfit Love, Feel Good Hit of the Summer, Avon, Better Living Through Chemistry, Make It Wit Chu, You’re So Vague, Mexicola, Running Joke, Run, Pig, Run, Broken Box, Like a Drug, Everybody Knows That You’re Insane, River in the Road, Infinity, Burn the Witch, Suture Up Your Future, Sick, Sick, Sick, Born to Hula, If Only, Someone’s in the Wolf, I’m Designer.

Demon Squirrel Fears Nothing

City animals aren't afraid anymore. While I'm sure they were never timid (growing up in the city must produce gritty animals as much as it does gritty people), they're now becoming entirely unshakeable. Aren't small animals supposed to fear big things? It's a great source of an undeserved sense of power. *It was.

Yesterday, a rat ran almost-over my shoe. A few months ago I tried to chase a pigeon away and it straight up ignored me. These animals are sick of living in subway dregs and/or having their various nature-homes constantly inundated with trash. And they're coming for us. Possibly equipped with genetic mutations.

Today as I was sitting in Washington Square Park, I saw a demon squirrel. It was pitch black with beady yellow eyes. I've seen it before, and it scared me the last time, too. I hoped that it would scamper away like a normal squirrel, but of course, it didn't. Because it's not. Instead, brandishing its little squirrel claws at me, it advanced. No, really, like on its hind legs. I was especially fearful of being targeted because I happened to be eating a bagel at the time. Because I didn't want it to sense my fear, I started laughing. But it must have sensed the nervous nature of it because it jumped up next to me on the bench, all the hairs raised on its back like a crazed, tiny monster. It finally left after some aggressive eye contact and went off to terrorize a young couple across the path, who didn't seem to take much notice. 

As I was finishing my morning nosh in peace, I realized that no one seemed to care about the squirrel besides myself. The fearlessness of this rodent was met with no reaction. Such an unusual display of behavior should have at least elicited some disconcerted laughter from someone. Come on, people.

So I think we should form more of a brotherhood. Because you never know what the government could be doing to our squirrels, and when they turn against us, we can only conquer them as a team.

Good thing I had a pocketknife.

-Beast