Criaturas-Aranas en el Corazon (Lengua Armada Discos) By Nathan G. O'Brien on Scene Point Blank
Austin, TX—wich recently shed its longstanding slogan “The Live Music Capital of the World” in favor of the less desirable “The Place Where Ben Weasel Punched That Chick”—is home to a relatively new five piece hardcore band called Criaturas. As is usually the case with incestuous genres such as punk, Criaturas shares its members with other bands... Continue reading here.
It's been over a year since the first issue of HotDogDayz came out. We did release two little teasers slash offspring last year--Restore the Power and If You Stink At Getting Ladies, Call Me (both out of print)--but now the mothership has landed once again.So without further adieu...
Finally HDD has come back to... Ahhh, yeah, uhm, well we're not that good at speeches, so like, here's the HDD zine, part deux...
Cover-to-cover HotDogDayz #2 is 32 pages of art, photography, collage, found items, and more--bullet belts, Crass font, graffiti, James Franco, vomit, etc. Gritty black & white with a full-color centerfold. HDD is a non-profit venture. The sales from each issue are donated to a charitable cause. If you'd like to purchase a copy, you can do so by clicking on the Paypal link below or emailing email@example.com or firstname.lastname@example.org. Include a name and an address. Suggested donation is $5 ppd. However, any amount under/over $5 is greatly appreciated. Please don't hesitate to contact us with any questions. Update: Next issue due Summer '11. We mean it, man!
Loren G and I braved the masses of commerce last Saturday for Record Store Day. At Extreme Noise we inhaled complimentary veggie dogs and crammed into the back room to see short loud sets by Frozen Teens and the always awesome Condominium. Live at the crack of noon! Then we went over to Fifth Element where we stood in line with all the white kids from the burbs. I'm pretty sure we looked like dads. Having hit the two of the four major food groups--punk rock and hip-hop--and fulfilling our duty as retailers, we called it quits.
Against Empire/Holokaust-Threat To Existence-split 7"
The internets is literally full of people bitching about stupid shit at the gym. If you don't believe me just Google stupid shit at the gym. Hell, there is a 16 page thread on the F4W/WO message board that's been going on for over a year and a half. It's called stupid shit at the gym. Anyway, save an occasional post-workout rant to the gf, for the most part I've kept quiet about it. But after a couple months of having to tolerate some fake-ass body builder/MMA guys "training" at the gym I frequent, I felt compelled to send the owners an email, begging for action to be taken. And by posting it here, I am now one of the millions...and millions (whatup, Rock!) bitching on the internets about stupid shit at the gym. Here's the email...
Dear (large fitness chain w/24 hour access, 365 days a year),
I have been a member of (nearby location of said large fitness chain) for a few years now, but not until the last couple months have I noticed some outlandish behaviour from some other members of our beloved fitness center. Usually on week nights, between 8:30-10:30 and on weekends. I don't know these folks by name, but I'd be more than happy to come down and point out the actual offenders in person. Just let me know. In the meantime, I would love if you guys could write up some gym etiquette rules. To save time, I have made an outline for you:
STUPID SHIT AT THE GYM
-Don’t, Under Any Circumstance, Drop Weights. I'm so happy for you—you can lift/push/pull all that weight. You're totally like, extreme, brah! You’re like, getting’ swollen, bro! GET SOME! But seriously, can you not fucking drop it/let it slam on to the floor, rack, etc. every time you're done with a set? I mean, I know you want to let everyone know how wicked awesome strong you are. But really, we just think you're a douche. You ever notice how everyone rolls their eyes whenever you walk by? Yeah, well, that's because of you. Believe me; we are counting down the minutes until you leave so we can all laugh at you. So keep that in mind. Also, I suspect it's too heavy if you can't control it long enough to gently set it down.
-Clean Up After Yourself. Put the shit back where you found it! If my grandma wants to come in and do bench press with just the bar, she shouldn't have to pull two 45 plates off each side in order to get started. Please return weights to the storage racks. And while we’re at it, for crying out loud, wipe your gross-ass slime off the bench, machine, etc.
-Keep Excessive Noise To Minimum. AKA-loud grunting, growling, huffing-n-puffing, and, believe it or not, singing. Again, great, you're, like, totally massive, brah—you sacrifice proper form in order to lift stupid-heavy weight. Must you scream at everyone in the gym about it? If getting us to notice you is your goal, relax, you can do so without groaning like you just shit your pants. After all, it’s hard to miss the guy in the distressed wife-beater and oversized basketball shorts. And please, for the sake of everyone around you, please, please, PLEASE stop singing. I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but YOU HAVE HEADPHONES ON! This means that even though you can’t hear yourself, we can—even over the modest volume level of our own headphones. Yes, we realize that Jay Z or Metallica or some other generic pop music gets you all pumped up so that you can wreck your neck on those ridiculous behind-the-head lifts. But that doesn’t mean the rest of us want to hear your lousy rendition of an already god-awful song. Stop grunting and stop singing. This is not your bathroom, juice-head; please shut the fuck up already!
VICTIMS-A Dissident (Deathwish Inc., Tank Crimes, La Familia) By Nathan G. O'Brien on Scene Point Blank
You know how after your favorite bands have been around for a while they eventually make that back-to-our-roots kind of record that reminds you of the fire they once had? Well this is one of the records that happen before that one. Existing well past the decade mark, Stockholm, Sweden’s Victims have been called many things—punk, hardcore, thrash, d-beat, crust, metal, and…well, you get the picture. With the release of their fifth full-length album, A Dissident, one could make an argument for the addition of another genre to the list: Pop.
As anyone who has had the pleasure of witnessing Victims play live can tell you, they bring an aural onslaught capable of transforming any dance floor into a whirlwind of flailing bodies and flung beer... Continue reading here.
We've been spotting HOTTEA yarn tags in the last couple days. Saturday, on a telephone pole near Red Savoy and 5th Element in Uptown. Then, just this morning on the 5th St bridge (over 3rd Ave N/394W) downtown by the light rail stop at Target Field. We know this one just went up last night/this morn because it wasn't there yesterday afternoon. Shit is hot..er, tea.
I don't have a lot of regrets about my life. Yet still, every March I am reminded of two (out of three) of my greatest disappointments thus far: I never got to play in the State Basketball tournament. And no matter how hard I want to do the right thing, I'm prone to making some poor nutritional decisions.
Friday, March 11th
Wayzata vs. Robinsdale Armstrong, Section 6AAAA Quarter Finals, Osseo High School
Osseo is one of my favorite places to go watch the Sectionals. Mostly because they have an outstanding concessions stand with fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. Not that I ever get them; I just like the idea that it's an option. I usually go for "Oriole Combo"--a hotdog, chips and soda for like, 4 bucks--or of course, the popcorn. On this particular evening I get both.
The Osseo gymnasium also holds a special place in my heart, and for good reason. It as it was here a few years ago for a Mpls North vs. Hopkins sectional game that I first saw and was amazed by blipsters.
As far as this game goes, nothing memorable stands out. Wayzata wins, but it's also kind of like losing, as there is literally no chance they will beat Hopkins in the championship game. A kid from Armstrong got a really nasty scratch on his face. That was cool.
Saturday, March 12th
Minneapolis Washburn vs. Waconia, Section 6AAA Quarter Finals, Washburn High School
My friend, and most formidable one-on-one opponent, Matt and I pick this one over a double shot of games for the same price at Concordia. Reason being, the possibility of a volatile situation presents itself anytime the suburbs battle the city. Or in layman's terms, black vs. white.
Somehow we don't set off the metal detectors upon entering the gym. Which is fortunate because we are both brought our guns. Just kidding about that last part. We left them under the seat in the car.
The concession stand is literally behind a steel cage. Popcorn looks good but neither of us go for it. Not surprisingly, with the budget of small inner city school like Washburn, there is no pep band. Instead it's a guy running a mix of hip hop songs of an iPad. I'm glad to know Whomp, There It Is is still making it onto pre-game warm-up tapes. Jock Jams for life.
The game is fairly tight most of the way through. Offensively speaking Washburn does not move well without the ball. Meaning instead of coming to the ball they just stand around and wait for something to happen...which drives me fucking INSANE! They keep the game close, but it's really hard to believe this is the team that just beat Eden Prairie (the only team to beat Hopkins this year.) It comes down to some free throws in the final seconds of the game, and Waconia reserve guard, a 9th grader named Tommy Gove is on the line with a chance to win it. He misses both. Dude is so visibly upset with himself that I'm concerned for his metal health. I have to contain myself from going down to the court and giving him a hug. But in the end Waconia wins it in overtime. Call off the suicide watch.
PS-Vanderbilt recruit, Shelby Moats is a fucking giant.
Matt makes a joke about the Waconia fans using their GPSs to find the quickest route to the freeway. "Let's just get the hell out of here. We will stop for diner once we see the Applebees on 494." Neither of us even knows if 494 is how you would get to Waconia.
Tuesday, March 15th
Concordia Academy Roseville vs. Saint Croix Lutheran and Minnehaha Academy vs. Blake School, Holy Angels High School, Section 4AA Quarter Finals
It's private school night, yay! I say that in jest of course. But you know what; great games. And not only that, but a new kind of people to watch: Well-to-do hip business men and their tan, gum-chewing, breast-augmented hot mom wives. Neither of which can be pried away from their phones. The student sections are made up of nice looking white folks. All of he Minnehaha Academy girls are wearing dresses and when they walk by the stands everyone cheers. These are customs I'm not, ah, accustomed to.
Considering these are all religious schools, surprisingly (or perhaps, not surprisingly) the language is fairly crude. Lots of "fucks" flying around. Speaking of fuck: how about those tan hot moms? Amirite or amirite?
I go for the popcorn and a Diet Dr. Pepper.
A couple of the players have beards. Something about high school guys with beards really irritates the shit out of me.
Concordia Academy beats Saint Croix Lutheran in double overtime with a 3-pointer of the glass. Hurts to lose like that. Especially when it's a win or go home situation and you're clearly the better team. Minnehaha Academy beats Blake School in OT and I'm not so sure they were the better team either. I know I'm not supposed to like lily-white private school players but the Pryor boys from Minnehaha are both entertaining and intriguing.
So much whistle blowing, sneaker squeaking, and teenager squealing that by the end of the night my head is pounding so hard I'm afraid I'm having an aneurysm. Turns out I'm not. Lucky me.
I have to go to a girls game tomorrow. *Lucky me*.
Wednesday, March 16th
Grand Rapids vs. Alexandria, Williams Arena, Girls AAA State Tournament 1st Round
There is really only a handful of reasons I would take an extended lunch break to go watch a high school girls basketball game. All of those reasons would have to do with me knowing someone involved with said game. In this case, it's the coach of the Grand Rapids team. His name is Dave LaCoe and he is one of the most awesome, gorgeous, entertaining people to ever walk the earth. He is also my former high school basket ball nemesis turned college roommate. He's pretty much a basketball legend in the state of Minnesota. I'll let you research that on your own.
We talk briefly before the game. I wasn't planning to bother him because I know how serious this all is, but he sees me attempting to sneak a few photos of him, and runs over to give me a hug. He introduces me to a women that I believe is his wife (?) and someone who I think is his son (??). It's all happening really fast and I do not want to distract him. Besides, I don't think he actually said who these people were, but rather, just told them who I was.
I don't really have any time to check out the concessions but it appears ice cream is the big seller in this section. Eh, wonder how the popcorn is?
Grand Rapids ends up losing. Man, it has been great to see Crow in his element but I have to get back to work, and he's got a post-season pep talk to give his girls.
Friday, March 18th
St. Paul Johnson vs. Hill Murray, Section 4AAA Championship, St. Paul Washington Middle School
"Fuck you, nigger!" Those are the last words spoken screamed in the confrontation between a Caucasian male father--young children and trophy wife in tow--and a carload of African American teenagers in the parking lot after the game. The gf and I have to laugh, as it is not going down the way you're thinking it is. It's the grown-ass white man taunting the black teens, threatening to punch out the rider's side window and yelling at them, "You want to have some fun tonight? Huh, do ya?!" And it's also the grown-ass white man that is embarrassing himself and his family, who just kicked a dent in the black teens car door. His wife and children pleading with him to stop and, "Get in the goddamn mini-van already." And surprisingly It's the black teens screaming "nigger" at him, the white man, as they drive off. This man is not taking this loss well.
Emotions are running high, and people, white fucking people, specifically, are acting out in a fairly disgusting fashion. Like sore fucking losers. Just before the incident in the parking lot, I came out of the bathroom just as the gf is engaged in a verbal tryst with a handful of privileged private school . She became enraged when she heard one of them say, "The reason Johnson doesn't have any fans is because they are all either on drugs or in jail." And before that, the taunting chant from the Hill Murray student section, directed towards the predominately African American fans on the other side of the gymnasium, "G.E.D. G.E.D. G.E.D." had already left a sour taste in her mouth.
And while I do recognize the comedic value of all this, I still can't help but thinking the following thought: Hill Murray didn't just lose the game; they lost their dignity.
That volatile situation I was looking for at Washburn, I found tonight. Disturbing white-people-behaviour aside, this was basketball, the way it's meant to be: in a loud, packed gymnasium with rabid fans, and everything on the line.
Wednesday, March 23rd-Saturday, March
State Tournaments, Target Center
Ok, yes, I do realize that at this point this thing has drug on long enough. I want it to be over with just as much as you do. But it's State Tourney time and I'm not about to quit now. I go to so many state tournament games that I can't keep them straight anymore. Plus I am forced to stop taking notes when I lose my Moleskine. (Whoever finds that thing is in for a treat, let me tell you.)
In a rubber match with Eden Prairie, Hopkins not only avenges their single loss of the season (for the second time this year,) but also win their third straight 4AAA State Championship. And you may find it surprising, considering some of the disparaging comments I've made about them in past years, that I cheer for the heavily favored Royals. But that's because they totally deserve to win. They are far and away the best coached, disciplined team in the state. (Chisholm who?) Plus EP has a few players with beards...and I now know what it is that bothers me about so much about it...
Seriously, high school dudes, save the facial hair for your thirties, when your chances of eating pussy have begun to spiral downward.
For four days straight my dinner has consisted of buckets of mediocre popcorn and overpriced Diet Pepsi. But it's all worth it. Because truly, I love this shit.
Plus, it's nice to have something to write about besides big butts and punk rock once in awhile.