Old Stuff

BARF

Pink dolphin appears in US lake

Capt Rue originally saw the dolphin, which also has reddish eyes, swimming with a pod of four other dolphins, with one appearing to be its mother which never left its side . . . He said: “It was absolutely stunningly pink. I had never seen anything like it. It’s the same color throughout the whole body and it looks like it just came out of a paint booth.”

Fish with human faces spotted in South Korea

The fish live in a pond behind the home of a 64-year old South Korean man and have been there since 1986 although their looks are only just starting to attract attention.

“My fish have been getting more and more human for the past couple of years,” the owner said.

Don’t even get me started on what elephants have been up to.

The Recession. It blows. For me. For you. For your mom. For your dog. For the car you wanted to drive. For the house with the picket fence your wife wanted. And for the chinchilla I wanted to adopt.

You know what it doesn’t suck for? Dying while you’re swimming in the ocean. Some major shark attack association reports a significant drop in shark attacks on humans in 2008 from 2007. Apparently there were 78 attacks this past year, as opposed to 91 the year before that. Don’t worry though, the same amount of people died due to the attacks (4).

Basically this association is claiming that because of the lagging economy fewer people are out vacationing, and hence, sharks are not privy to as much of our tasty flesh. Fewer people are traveling to exotic destinations and beaches where sharks roam because they are spending wisely and some are not traveling at all.

You know what I think? I think that sharks are just doing their part. I think sharks, even though we paint them as the devil incarnate, are actually very sympathetic toward humans and simply attack us because they fear humans getting so comfortable under the sea that we start living there. They’ve watched us make films like The Little Mermaid and assume they represent our ambitions.

But sharks fucking care man. They see how unstable and stressed people are. They know how hard it is to get away for an all-inclusive in these hard times. So they are lying back a bit, letting us chill out and live a little longer. They are eating some krill instead of legs (also as a big fuck you to the whales who also eat this krill). They are trying to show us that they have feelings too, and that they know how to make tough ethical decisions. So I’m gonna be the first one to appreciate them. Hopefully you all follow suit.

Sharks of the world, if you are reading, thank you. From the bottom of my heart.

Well there you have it. I’m now talking to animals via the internet. This is a JUICEBOXdotcom first. And if sometime in 2010 or 2011 you find yourself swimming in cash, riding your new Jag to work, reading articles about my cute new chinchilla, and taking a vacation down to Cabo San Lucas, remember this one thing: don’t go into the water. Because the sharks will manglefuck the shit out of you.

Last week I came off as really bored. Which I really was. Sports got boring for a couple days. But this week they came back with a fucking fury!

This week In Being Paid 27.5 Million A Year
Even if you don’t follow Baseball, you’ve definitely heard the names “Barry Bonds” and “Rogers Clemens” in the same sentence as the word “Steroids” and “Fat Cunner.” Basically, two of the best baseball careers ever have been tainted by cheating allegations (allegations that are likely realities).

Well this week Alex Rodriguez, the player that was on his way to being the best ever and the “savior” of the MLB, admitted to using steroids from 2001-2003. Well that’s it folks. Baseball is forever tainted. The American pastime is now a farce. Last April I wrote Six Reasons To Go See the Blue Jays This Summer, this year I will write 6 Reasons Not To Fucking Care. Instead I will write about the wicked drunk movie nights I’ve been having (see last week’s article).

This week In Saving Your Job
Rogers cut 1,000 jobs. Do you think Ted woulda let that happen? No fucking way. Also, the Blue Jays haven’t made a single fucking move this off-season, prompting me to rip JP Ricciardi (the man in charge of absence of off-season moves) a new fucking asshole using the Internet. *RRRRRRIIIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP* Make me care for fuck’s sake!

Other Insane Shit
The NBA All Star game was on last night. I didn’t watch it. But guess what! (what) The Toronto Raptors are awful. In fact, every time in the NBA is awful except for four of them. The Raps made a long anticipated move last week, trading Shawn Marion for Jermaine O’Neal (baby dolphin) and Jamario Moon (from Meridian Community College). If you don’t know what that means, it’s ok. I don’t either. Check back with me in October about basketball.

It was opening night of Coraline and I was at the 9:45 show. Aside from a set of young parents and their two young children sitting in front of me, the audience for a movie marketed to kids was uncharacteristically full of asshole teenage emo-jock hybrids sitting in a collective guy to girl ratio of 2:1.

While I sat and waited for the movie to start the guys puffed themselves up and let everyone in the theatre know how everything around them was somehow gay. It was obvious why — they had to show the girls that they were men; only half of them would be able to take a girl home and make her cry in a forceful attempt to see a boob. And in the morning the girl gets a Nightmare Before Christmas keychain for her trouble, then it’s off to hockey practice.

The lights dimmed, and the trailers began. Even though I had my suspicions, I wasn’t absolutely convinced that Zach Efron’s new movie, 17 Again, was gay. But then the kids reassured all of us that it was — so thanks guys. As the movie began, we were treated to a credit sequence in which a disturbing set of metal fingers ritualistically gutted and skinned a rag doll. While this was going on I wondered what kind of trouble I would get into if I bought one of those high-pressured rubber pellet guns and started shooting those kids. Nothing hard. Nothing too violent. Just like a little nudge of, “Hey, shut up. Or I’ll fuck you until you like it. Then who’s gay? Huh?” Probably me at that point. But still, lessons learned are hard taught.

And as all of this was running around in my head I realized that there was no more chest-beating coming from the audience. Everyone was quiet and watching the disturbing ballet of imagery on screen. It was at that point everyone realized this might not be as playful of a kids movie as they had thought. And that played out until the end credits rolled. It is, without a doubt, a kids movie; but it does dance the line of morbidity. I can’t think of many other movies geared toward kids where ghost children plead with the main character to, “find our eyes!” so they can go to heaven.

Coraline, directed by Henry Selick and based on Neil Gaiman’s children’s book, is about a young girl who moves into the middle floor of an old house with her mother and father — two gardeners/authors who never have time to be parents. One night, after spending the day dealing with her eccentric top and bottom floor neighbours, she finds that a secret door in her living room leads to an alternate reality where her parents have buttons for eyes (referred to as the ‘Other Mother’ and ‘Other Father’) and smother her in love. Although she finds this a little unsettling at first, she does appreciate the attention. Everything seems to be going great for her until the Other Mother tells Coraline if she wants to stay in this alternate world she’ll have to sew buttons into her eyes. And everything gets crazier from there.

Technically, Coraline was the best stop-motion animated film I have ever seen. Maybe not the best stop-motion ever used in a film (Dragon Slayer is still top of the list), but as far as wall-to-wall animation goes, Coraline supersedes its predecessors (some of which Selick might also be paying tribute to in his depictions of Coraline’s old friends — who look like they’ve come straight from Will Vinton’s workshop). As far as animators go, Selick is more theatrical in his movements. Everyone exaggerates their actions and nobody is ever still (unlike animators such as Nick Park or Adam Elliot, who concentrate on the subtlety of facial features and nervous movements), but all of this works perfectly for Coraline. Maybe too perfect. In a world where CGI is looking more and more like traditional and stop-motion animation, I think the perfection of the movement in Coraline might have a lot of people not realizing they’re looking at tangible objects.

The voice talent (from Dakota Fanning, John Hodgman, and Teri Hatcher among others) is surprisingly good. Although a lot of people will tend to compare Coraline with Nightmare Before Christmas, it’s not. Not at all. Coraline doesn’t try to be cute. It doesn’t treat its material as fun. Selick’s characters don’t break out in song (aside from one by John Hodgman’s Other Father — but it’s written and sung by They Might Be Giants, so I’m not holding it against him); they don’t playfully relish the darkness like everyone in TNBC; and they don’t treat the uncanny around them as a cute departure from the everyday.

Near the middle of the movie, as things got darker, the two children in front of me were noticeably scared. They even started whimpering and crying a little. Maybe it was because their parents wouldn’t let them leave. But the kids stuck through it, and by the end they were all smiles. And I felt the same way — I wouldn’t necessarily think of Coraline as a kids movie, but it’s a journey that kids would appreciate more than the rest of us. The emo-jocks thought it was pretty gay.

In December, we launched our record label with a totally sweet comp of local dudes and ladies that is probably still worth checking out. Then we released a Christmas album. Now we’re really in the shit.

The Little Millionaires are the first band to release an actual real-life record here. They’re from Toronto, count ex-members of Ontario punk rock royalty in their ranks (Bombs Over Providence, Marilyn’s Vitamins), and are genuinely good dudes who will drink you under the table and then help you walk home. We’re unbelievably stoked to be a part of bringing rad music by rad people to you, more rad people. And now, a word from the band:

Courtesy of Mr. Adam Cook: The Little Millionaires’ DIY is an STD was a self-made mess in the erstwhile tradition of late ’90s punk bands who used to brag about how poor they lived and much crap they silk screened their name onto. The original less-than-fifty physical copies of this disc were all sold at a Toronto live show in October ‘08 and were little more than a spray-painted cardsleeve (that never seemed to dry) and CDs labeled with pictures of the bands’ testicles. Now released digitally with new artwork and fewer balls, DIY is a rough, tough demo and first release from a band that promises… well… nothing.

Download it now and join the party.

I’m back! For the last six weeks Juicebox has been lamely rebranding itself, and now the sports blog that I work tirelessly to maintain has been reduced to a tiny little section in favour of some kind of music label that lets Sam and Ashley make more blood money for themselves [Ed.'s note: 100% of the blood money goes to the bands that create the records. Look forward to Luc's new sports LP].

It’s great to be back.

This week in sports
Um… I’m not gonna lie. Since the Superbowl last Sunday, I have done nothing but look forward to the Baseball season (April 6th!). Hockey, Basketball… they’re dead to me… more dead to me than Kyle Fines. The teams I care about are really, really bad. In fact they just make me not want to write about sports. So what am I gonna do instead? Write about movies.

Movies I’m gonna go see while drunk in 2009
4Fast4Furious – Aw man, its gonna be so awesome. Original Model, New Parts, More Vin Diesel and Paul Walker looking like they want to bone each other’s dads.

Dragonball: Evolution – If you’re like me, you are the rare breed of mega nerd/mega jock. In grade 10 you’d come home from hockey practice and play Starcraft for a couple of hours. You read the Dragonball Z comic books and you’re gonna go see the live action movie in 2009. Man… I don’t want to remember a thing.

Terminator: Salvation – It’s gonna be bad. I don’t care what screen shots you may have seen or how much Christian Bale is great these days, this movie is gonna blow. So you will need me there in the theatre to yell out random Blue Jays’ names and offer you whiskey out of my flask.

Crank 2: High Voltage – What’s better than Jason Statham snorting cocaine off a bathroom floor and plowing Amy Smart in Chinatown? Jason Statham needing electricity to stay alive. Instant bonnerfication.

Final Destination: Death Trip 3D – No Explanation Required.

Seriously, when did Geekologie get so awesome? First with this practical garment find:

and now with this kid, who has guaranteed pre-pub fodder for his bored rezmates once he’s all growed up and in college (thanks to his genius dad videotaping him post-dental surgery):

Not to mention a guy on an all-bacon diet, digital roadsign hacking instructions, and video games as classic book covers. We need to up our game. Or at least our internet sleuthing skills.

Ah, who am I kidding. Who wants to get nachos?

So CFNY has a great show on Tuesday nights called Punkorama. Last year they held their first award show, and Strike Anywhere let me drink a lot of their gin. It was a great time. 2009 marks the second annual “F.U. Awards” (take that, authority) and the first annual time Junior Battles has been nominated. Right? No, really.

We’re nominated for the “Young Jedi” award for “Best New Band of ‘08″ [Ed.'s note: LOLOLOL]. Also nominated in the same category are our bestest friends the Little Millionaires, but fuck those chumps and vote for us ’cause I want my mom to be proud of me (actually we love the Millionaires and we’re releasing their record, so vote for them too. But not as many times as you vote for us). You can also vote for some non-us related stuff, and when you do that, make sure you vote for fellow JBdc contributor Ben Rispin’s band, Saint Alvia. Keep your eyes on the prize.

Seriously:

VOTE HERE

Thanks, I owe you a beer.

[Ed.'s note: but really, Jr Battles is pretty much the JUICEBOXdotcom house band. Every member writes for us, is a babe, and loves you more and more each and every passing day (see Aaron, Joel, Justin, Sam). Love them like they love you.]

History. cnn.com. LIVE with facebook.

10:29 - there are a lot of people in Washington right now, i heard you can’t even use your cell phone today!!!1

10:30 - ohmigod, LAW MAKERS ARE STARTING TO ARRIVE AND SO IS THE QUEEN OF SOUL.

10:35 - maybe they should move this to August since it’s so cold, shut up Virgina.

10:38 - 2000/min status updates on facebook shown on cnn.com!

BRB.

10:49 - someone just got into a car.

10:50 - Gabriel Luis Moreno is OLIVIA!!!!!

10:50 - Lorrie Lynn King is crying.

10:50 - Aureliano Rey Aguilar is bored.

11:02 - HOLY CRAP I CAN SEE HIM RIGHT NOW, HE’S WALKING INTO A BUILDING. I WONDER WHAT HE IS THINKING ABOUT?

11:05 - James W. Lawrence thinks Michelle Obama needs the name of good hairdresser.

11:06 - YO DISS!

11:09 - Dustin Clark it ManBearPig, im super cereal.

11:28 - the kidz are here.

11:35 - oh c’monnnnnnnn, let’s get this show on the road.

11:40 - JOSEPH R. BIDEN JR. BATTLES.

11:45 - oh hey, obama is outside now. he’s looks like a pretty huge babe.

11:49 - Jane Maru saddleback church, nice name.

11:53 - Robert Rahardja fat dude is not praying.. Haha.

11:54 - ARETHA IS GONNA SING I WILL SURVIVE! fab bow, girl.

11:58 - “I take his obligation freely, and I will well and faithfully say that the Girlettes are the best band known to man and will win at least every Oscar this year” - says Biden.

12:00 - YO, TOTAL GUY ON GUY ACTION!

12:03 - it’s happening!

12:04 - he spoke too soon.

12:06 - OBAMA IS GONNA GET LAAAAAAAAAAAID TONIGHT.

12:11 - HE’s TALKING and then some other old guy walked behind him and then walked away.

12:12 - Riti doesn’t know who all these other people are. She should a grow a brain.

12:13 - kbye. ttyn.

GRAVE DIGGER YOU ROCK

I suppose if you’ve never listened to indie pop before you might find I Am the Heat’s album The Future Doesn’t Need Us a bit interesting. Unfortunately, I have heard indie pop before, so I’m left with nothing.

It’s not a necessarily bad album by any means, I’ve just heard the same let’s-write-a-song-for-the-sake-of-writing-a-song stuff before. Many times before. Anyone out there ever head of ‘Space Bike’? I used to think they were awesome; until I realized my favorite indie-pop bands were only my favorites because I heard them first. It’s like buying a box of Corn Pops, eating one, loving it, and not liking all of the other corn pops because they taste too much like the first one. There’s nothing new going on here.

Once again, it’s not bad; but it’s not great. Should you buy it? No. You probably already own it, but it’s a different album, written by a different band, and you like that one more.

It’s been a tradition for the past few years to see a movie on Christmas day instead of spending time with my family.

A lot of people were at the theatre when I got there; A quick scan of the crowd told me most of these people were home for the holidays before returning to school.

The majority of them were boyfriends (who didn’t leave town) accompanied by their girlfriends (who were in their first year of post-secondary school) — it was written all over them. The same girls that were only months ago wearing stripped leggings under an oversized hoodie covered in crazy shit were now draped in pea-coats and scarves, while their trashbag boyfriends still wore their trucker hats (which are still cool in Sault Ste Marie where I live) and Fox Racing jackets. Both seemed clueless to the fact that this would probably be their last date together.

Even for Christmas day the theatre was fairly packed; and for a two-hour movie it was a rather breezy time. But that’s all David Fincher; the guy knows how to make a long movie seem at least half an hour shorter than its actual length: keep it moving and keep giving the audience new information (a tactic used in both Zodiac and Fight Club)

Cate Blanchett and Brad Pitt do little with their roles, and fall back on composited CGI versions of themselves to do most of the acting, which is a shame and a waste. Pitt’s role as the title character is especially underrepresented — relying almost entirely on narration rather than interaction to emotionally engage the audience.

The script, by screenwriter Eric Roth, felt too much like his work on Forest Gump. It’s basically Forest Gump, if he was physically handicapped instead of mentally handicapped. And then instead of being physically handicapped, he was magically handicapped.

But the biggest downfall of the movie is the ending. As Benjamin grows younger, it gets to a point where they can’t keep using Brad Pitt CGI mutants, and have to use a younger actor. So, as soon as you see the teenage version of Benjamin, you’re pulled out of the movie. It’s no longer the same character. He doesn’t even really look like how you figure Brad Pitt would look as a teenager. At that point the audience doesn’t care. They’re no longer following the story of Benjamin Button - that was Brad Pitt’s story, not some teenagers.

As the credits rolled, we began walking out; passing the same young couples we came in with. The pea-coated girlfriends, who felt newly enlightened because they were in university, defended the movie to their trucker-cap boyfriends, who thought it was dumb and long. After a short back-and-forth, the girlfriends just stopped arguing. Their boyfriends weren’t going to get it. They’d never understand because they haven’t experienced life yet, not like they had anyway. And later on in the night the larger revelation would hit — not only did their boyfriends not ‘get’ the movie, but they didn’t get them anymore either. They would have to break up. She’s in university, she wants to travel, she wants to grow and live life and settle down when she’s ready. Her and her boyfriend were just different people. We all know those girls (btw those girls, fuck you. Die sad and alone — with guys still not ‘getting’ you.)

And then it hits that Benjamin Button is the perfect guy for these girls. While they’re young and stupid, he’s the older, mature, worldly man they feel they can learn from; And when they get old and their vaginas start to dry out (science), he’ll be the bucking young stud ready to fuck them until they orgasm all of the dead, unused eggs out of their wombs (also science).

That said, I still enjoyed The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Although it’s not a movie that I would feel the need to see immediately again, it does have a fairy tale air that appeals to both adults and children. Not one of the best movies of the year, but still a great movie.

From Craigslist New York:

I am a female in my mid 60’s and I am looking for a room mate. Times are tight and I need some extra money.

I am willing to rent out my bathroom in my 1 bedroom east village home.

My bathroom is large. You can easily put a twin air mattress in there. I only ask that when I need to use the bathroom, you or your air mattress are not in it.

I do ask that when you are in the apartment, you confine yourself to the bathroom. I do not feel comfortable with a stranger walking around my living room. This might change as I get to know you better.

You may have guest over as long as they are cnfined to the bathroom as well. This might seem a bit odd but please remember the rent is $400 and the bathroom is large.

From Minneapolis:

BARTER: looking for macbook

i need a macbook for school. i have the following and am willing to trade:

- pack of napkins
- can of vegetables (you choose the vegetable)
- robin hood: men in tights dvd
- half used glade candle - fresh linen scent
- bottle of lemon-lime gatorade (unopened!)
- 19 ziploc sandwich bags
- pack of tube socks
- box of 63 crayons (missing cadet blue)
- bag of pogs
- “chicken soup for the horse lover’s soul II” book
- black belt (not a karate belt)
- 60 watt light bulb
- home-made play dough
- button with a picture of a chicken saying “where’s the beef?”
- button with a picture of a cow saying “where’s the chicken?”
- bag of ranch corn nuts

if you are interested in trading your macbook for any of the previously listed items please email me.

thank you!

Have you ever imagined what The Sixth Sense would have been like if the little kid hadn’t been such a bitch and had tried to actually listen to all the dead people? Maybe they just needed help or something, like Mischa Barton did (hot even when far too young and vomiting).

Well Ghost Town does just that, pitting a live and well Ricky Gervais (who plays a bitter about life Dentist) versus the ghostly remains of a tuxedo laden Greg Kinnear. Kinnear wants Gervais to get his widow (Tea Leoni on the comeback path) to still love him or something, and surprisingly enough Gervais and Leoni end up having the hots for each other. Makes perfect sense, considering Leoni is engaged to none other than the Rocketeer himself Bill Campbell (boner).

Whatever. This movie was pretty good and entertaining. And the best part by far is Alan Ruck with a very minute and cheesy role as some dead dad.

4 out of 5 Bangbuses

Note: This film is not to be confused with There’s Something About Mary, The Sixth Man, Ghost World, Just Like Heaven, Spanglish, What Lies Beneath, or GhostBusters II.

What’s Worst Mondays without a dark and villainous foil? That’s the kind of thinking that forced us to create Best Fridays. So for all our weekend warrior brethren: Wooooo, T-G-I-F, right? Herein we hope to bookend your awful week by quizzing our previous Worst Mondays candidate about slightly more encouraging things. Every Friday!

So the Trunk reunion is tonight. It’s going to be rad. You’ve got Trunk, obz. Plus the Video Dead, featuring JUICEBOXdotcom contributer and super dude Ben Rispin. And The Grave. And Tilt’em. It’s free, and any donations you find fit to offer up will go to a Burlington charity called the Healthy Basket Program. Doors at 9. Red Rooster. Burlington. Pop punk forever.

Best injury
I don’t really have any good/funny injury stories. I’ve broken my nose three times. And I’ve sustained nine concussions. Maybe I do have injury stories, but I just can’t remember them?

Best historical figure
Neil Armstrong. Either that man truly walked on the face of the moon, or he was the greatest actor and liar the world has ever known. Either way, pretty bad-assed!

Best shirt
I’m a big skate tee guy. So I’ve had quite a few over the years that I’ve loved. But I guess if I had to choose one, it will be one that I still own. It’s a Black Label tee with a line of seven bombs on it and says
“Death From Above” below the bombs. No idea why, it’s really nothing special, but I love it. That, and my autographed Gretzky jersey.

Best thing to do with $20
Buy as much beer as it will get you. I highly recommend Pabst Blue Ribbon Light. That shit is gooood.

Best party trick
I can successfully “fall” down the stairs of any home without sustaining a major injury (knock on wood). We used to actually have competitions. I think the prize was usually a chocolate bar.

Best monster
I’m not into monsters. Unless you consider the Bumble from Rudolph to be true a monster? Gretzky was a monster of a hockey player, so I’ll choose good old Wayner.

Best question ever asked of you in an interview. Now answer it:
“Fuck no! That was NOT us! Why the hell would we piss in every ones drinks?! Well, except for that guy. Yeah, we did piss in his drink. Sorry man.”

We at JUICEBOX love ourselves some Craigslist. We also love the potential for new and lasting friendships. Sometimes when we are just bored enough, we enjoy combining the two. Usually when Greg (above) is around. And mostly because people are fucking weird.

Posted to Craigslist Toronto:

Free: Two Cokes on Ice

We have two delicious cokes in glasses with three to four ice cubes per drink. They are cold and refreshing and need to find a home (your belly) soon! Email us before 1:00 am and come get your free drinks!

* Location: Juicebox Manor, Clinton Street

We legitimately wanted to share these fresh cokes with a thirsty new friend. Look at the condensation on those glasses. And that welcoming red curtain showcase? I’m telling you. Not the cheap stuff.

Alas our posting was flagged for removal once again (does anyone know on what grounds? is this something psychopaths do?), but not before we got a few responses in. Responses that would indicate that we may have been unintentionally propositioning our potential new friends. Here’s a sampling:

From: partypooper.me@hotmail.com
To: sale-872104120@craigslist.org

where on clinton?

who are you?

i’m a 24 year old dude.

Score! And this:

From: ms Kitten allabouthilites@hotmail.com
Subject: RE: Free Cokes

Am I too late? Are you the guy who likes straight hair?

Yipes. To which Gregory responded:

To: allabouthilites@hotmail.com
Subject: Re: Free Cokes

I do like straight hair, but I don’t know if I’m “the guy who likes straight hair”…..

Are you close by? I’m at clinton and dupont street

To which “Ms. Kitten” responded:

ms Kitten wrote:
Nooooooooooooooooo, not nearby, I thought you were… a friend of mine who does foolish things like that. hahahha. sorry to bother you. take care and good luck with the cokes!

Pfft. We had great luck with the cokes. They were delicious, you pervert.

OH MY GOD! DID YOU SEE THAT SALE THAT URBAN OUTFITTERS WAS HAVING ON BOXING DAY??? IT WAS SO FUCKING INCREDIBLY AWESOME! $14 RUBBER DUCKS WITH DEVIL HORNS! 50% OFF UGLY KNITTED GLOVES!

Well I saw it, and I stayed away from it and other such sales. You probably didn’t though, and that’s why you’ll need these top 10 ways to save money during the 2009 recession:

10. Get that shit used
Unless you’re really adamant about having a hardcover copy of Twilight with the 10% off Indigo sticker on it, I suggest you consult places like Craigslist beforehand for pretty much anything you want to buy. Or even ask your friends! Or your mom! (Hot?)

9. Walk
Walk to the bar, to your friend’s house, to the eye exam, to your booty call. Or steal a bike in the summer. Either way, you will feel healthy and save the planet all at once. Plus you will work up an appetite for that booty call (also free. I hope).

8. Cheap Films
Go to Rainbow Cinemas, or whatever fucking theatre in your little town lets you see movies for $7 and under. Or look up where movies are playing for free. The movie won’t be good, but its something to do once you…

7. Dump your girlfriend
Ladies beware, if you constantly ask your boyfriend to cab everywhere or to stop making pasta every night, you may soon be dumped. Gentlemen - the bitch has got to go.

6. Revert to College Party Mode
Cheap bars, cheap beers, cheap bitches. If going to places like “Lot 332″ and “Cheval” are costing you dicks and asses in expensive vodka 7s and cab rides to follow your crush around, then maybe heading back to your old digs to drink $11 pitchers is the smart thing to do. After all, people born in the 1990s turn 19 this year! (Gross)

5. Don’t use condoms
I’m kidding. Please use them.

4. Drink Water
Get yourself one of those thick plastic containers Sam has on the end of his backpack and fill it water. Don’t buy that bottle of Dasani or Spritz Up – fill up at your friends house. Again you will feel like you are saving the environment (key words = “feel like”).

3. Don’t go back to school
Just don’t. People always say this is a good idea. Just go take one class or pickup a For Dummies book on the topic you want to learn about. Just like they’re doing at York right now. Zzzzzzzzzzing!

2. Take up a hobby
Chess is fun. Learn it, then come over and challenge me. I’m serious. I’ll give you a pudding if you can beat me.

1. Ditch newspapers, read JUICEBOXdotcom
Check this one off the list. Way to go! Now pickup the phone and tell Stacey you never want to see her again. Then walk to a free movie, moneybanks.

It’s just about blizzarding outside. It’s just about blizzarding outside and I live in a charming but kinda dinky basement apartment. So it’s hella-snowing outside, I live underground, and as such there is little else in this world that I want to do more than curl up with my laptop and watch Sabrina the Teenage Witch on YouTube.

Second only to Josie and the Pussycats in terms of live-action adaptations of peripheral Archie comic characters, Sabrina succeeds at more than simply following the obligatory format of a family-friendly high school-centred sit-com, though it definitely does. What makes the show so magic – heh, you get it… do you get it? – is its complete irrationality, and the ability to explain away any potential plot holes with the fact that Sabrina and her aunts Hilda and Zelda are witches. Narrative gold!

Sabrina’s best friend from the show’s first season (Jenny, a pretty girl with curly hair and countercultural leanings) disappears without an explanation to be replaced by a far inferior pal (the neurotic and co-dependent Valerie) in the second season. But who cares? Look, a cameo by Davey Jones from the Monkees! Paul Feig (Sabrina’s cynical science teacher in season one)’s absence is never noted either, when yet another neurotic lady is brought in to fill the shoes of a well-liked character from season one. But, hey, here’s Penn and Teller! One of the most important lessons I have gleaned from this well-structure show is that there is virtually no problem that a surprise visit from Eric Estrada can’t solve. Though I already had a hunch about that one.

There are countless other nerd reasons why I genuinely love this show, even though it clearly jumped the shark when they made the grievous error of sending Sabrina to college (hey, Degrassi: The Next Generation, are you listening?). I mean, come on! Melissa Joan Hart’s Sabrina and her subsequent role as a teen starlet in such exceptional films as Drive Me Crazy and Can’t Hardly Wait totally cement that TGIF ideal of my early adolescence, when watching 20/20, which aired at 10 o’clock on ABC after Sabrina and its cohorts, made you so totally in the know with how the world really was. Not to mention the fact that Sabrina’s father in the show is the same actor who provided the voice for Prince Alexander in the stunning 1992 point-and-click adventure game King’s Quest VI, which also had a solid hand in the formation of the socially graceful, upright citizen I am today.

So, in conclusion… oh man, I don’t know. In conclusion, I will never find love because I spend my time watching sit-coms from when I was twelve on YouTube and can identify the voice actors of computer game characters that spent half of the game telling you, “I don’t want to pick that up.” Good grief.

At JUICEBOX HQ, we’ve never really had a case of the Mondays because we don’t have real-people jobs. But for those feeling a bit garfield this A.M., feel free to wallow in other people’s most hated things. Every Monday!

Sometimes, when I close my eyes really tight, it’s the mid-90s again and pop-punk rules. Then I wake up dudes like this are famous and I get way bummed out. As if to alleviate my seasonal punk rock depression, Trunk are reuniting this week. For one show. January 2. Red Rooster. Burlington. It’s going to be awesome and will make you want to light your stupid cut-offs on fire and buy a nice pair of unnecessarily baggy shorts and a skateboard.

My knowledge of Trunk comes exclusively from dubbed cassette tapes, which is a pretty romantic way to remember any band. They were just hitting their stride when I was finishing middle school, and as a result, they were one of the first punk bands I heard that made me question my devotion to Korn and musical theatre. They ruled.

The band formed in 1992 for a high school talent show. After two cassette releases, they signed to legendary local label Raw Energy Records, where they released Beaned Up Polkas, Yank to Release, and Throwin’ the Horns. Trunk played over 500 shows, toured North America a bunch of times, made three music videos, and starred in commercials for Tiger Toys and Ontario Hydro (easily their greatest achievement). They broke up 1999 without an official farewall show, having opened for bands like Rancid, Propagandhi, Good Riddance, MXPX, The Get Up Kids, DOA, SNFU, Day-Glo Abortions and Gob, and cementing their place in Canada’s pop-punk pantheon.

They went on to play in bands like Somehow Hollow and Grade. And now they’re back for one more show with no cover. Basically, it’s a steal of a deal and it’s going to rule. Peep the Facebook invite here, and peep bassist Jerry Filice’s answers to our awesome questions here:

Worst day-job
Dishwasher at the Keg. I hated every fucking second of it. Smashed shit rather than washing it, hid utensils, threw out dishes, and one night I even cut myself so I could leave early.

Worst haircut
I’m not afraid to admit that for 2 days, I had a “swoop“. Terrible. I’d never been more uncomfortable in my life.

Worst subculture
It’s a tie between dog park people that form cliques at the park, and heavily devoted Starbucks patrons. Why do people that drink Starbucks need that little hand protector on the cup? Is Tim Horton’s coffee somehow colder, or do we Timmy’s drinkers just have less asshole-like hands?

Worst date
The worst date I’ve ever been on is a date that I never actually went on. I went past my usual comfort level and actually approached a girl when I worked at the mall a lifetime ago. I asked her out and she said yes. Then 5 minutes before leaving to pick her up on the night of the date, she called and said she couldn’t go because she forgot she had her cousins birthday party. Oddly enough, she didn’t reschedule with me.

Worst invention
The “Fox Puck“. What a piece of shit! I always thought it had an infrared sensor that the camera picked up for all of our optically challenged friends south of the boarder. But no, just LED lights! ACTUAL lights IN the puck! I saw one on eBay a couple months ago. So not only was it a stupid invention, but it was also a total piece of shit.

Worst purchase
The Goober Patrol CD Vacation. It was the end of my So Cal punk innocence. Up until that point, if it had a Fat Wreck Chords or Epitaph logo on it, I would buy it without a listen. This record was a pile, and forced me to begin to question everything in life. I still hate it to this day, yet keep it in my collection as a reminder.

Worst way to die
In any situation where Jazz is playing. Fuck do I hate Jazz.

Two Thousand And Eight was another fantastic and shitty year in sports. There were moments that absolutely disgraced the profession and made me want to steal someone’s copy of Twilight and get addicted*, and there were moments that truly gave me that boner everyone else would get if they understood what WHIP is in baseball. Anyway, I’ve decided to hand out awards.

* I am aware that there is a baseball scene in this.

My favorite moment of 2008
On June 20th in Pittsburg (a game I attended), Roy Halladay was struck in the temple by the ball hit by Nyger Morgan of the Pirates. The ball bounced so high up that Jays third basemen Scott Rolen had time to catch it. Try and put that on a Chuck Norris list.

A close 2nd: Alex Ovechkin proclaiming upon receiving the key to Washington DC “Today I am President… no speed limit!”

The World/America’s favourite moment of 2008
People love records. Even ones they can’t really relate to. I mean, I wish I knew how hard it was to win the 100 metre butterfly or 100 metre sprint at the Olympics… but I don’t. The media does however, and the Michael Phelps/Usain Bolt dominating the spotlight in Beijing takes the top spot.

A distant 2nd: Tiger winning the 2008 US Open with basically one leg.

My least favorite moment of 2008
At some point in April, I sat in the Rogers Centre for over 5 hours as the game went to 14 fucking innings and past midnight. You know who lost the game for the Jays? The $82.5 million man himself, AJ fucking Burnett. I’m gonna throw a fucking anthrax paper airplane at you when you come back.

Biggest Vagin of 2008
Oh god. There are way too many 2008 vagins, all with excellent justification for this honour. I’ll go with what the general public hates the most… they hate cheaters, they hate potty-mouths, rebels, wife beaters, Madonna fuckers, etc. But above all, we all really fucking hate people who don’t treat their animals right, and that’s YOU Michael Vick.

Soggy 2nds: Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Plaxico Burress, Sean Avery, Barry Melrose, Stephon Marbury, Alex Rodriguez, and the entire Chinese gymnastics team.

Best Sports Related Film of 2008
Armageddon.

Outlook on the New Year
We all know that no matter how many of your friends got married, had a baby, graduated from college, got a job at Urban Outfitters, used Boba Fett to get laid, and lost their virginity, you will always remember 2008 as the year everyone’s parents lost a fuckload of money.

The ripple effects of the meltdown are not yet apparent in the sports world (thanks to the Yankees), as salaries are already set before seasons begin. But it will be felt. Clubs will lose money and fans. Some may even fold. The NHL might lose a few teams, or they could see resurgence as Americans seek cheaper entertainment (an NHL game in Phoenix costs $9 versus $24 for the NBA).

Basically, I expect the plot from Baseketball to take full effect by 2009. All those dudes from Yo Mama with Wilmer Valderama will have full time jobs.

My football team for the week
I told all you faithful readers (mom) that this column would return in week 17, and has it ever! My team this week is the Detroit Lions, the only bright spot for all those auto workers!

What’s Worst Mondays without a dark and villainous foil? That’s the kind of thinking that forced us to create Best Fridays. So for all our weekend warrior brethren: Wooooo, T-G-I-F, right? Herein we hope to bookend your awful week by quizzing our previous Worst Mondays candidate about slightly more encouraging things. Every Friday!

Alright, this hasn’t been our busiest week. But it was Christmas and we started a record label, so between all the turkey and family and free rock and roll, I don’t feel too bad about the state of things over here.

But we didn’t forget about our friend Jeff Rosenstock and his pretty much the best answers to this crap so far. Plus, we stole his idea for an online-only donation-based record label. Seriously, these are the best answers so far. Everyone else, time to step your game up.

Best injury
About a year ago my friend Brett from the Riot Before came to visit New York right when I moved to Brooklyn. I parked my van with all of my stuff in a nicer neighborhood and longboarded to the bar where we met up. While jumping between bars, we rode the longboard together in the rain and everything was fine. When we got to the next bar, I bought Brett a 32 oz. beer but he’s a baby so kept pouring his beer in my cup. When I left it was pretty cold so I decided to skate to the train station instead was a good compromise between skating home drunk or walking to the train station in the cold. I actually made it just about to the train station fine, but when going up the curb I flew in the air and landed on my wrist. Since I was pretty hammered I didn’t feel anything until I woke up at 6 in the morning because the pain was so crazy. It was either a fracture or a sprain, but since I didn’t have health insurance I just bought a 15 dollar brace at the pharmacy, and tried my best to stay off it ’cause I had a tour coming up. However, I couldn’t refrain from going to the bar without my brace and re-fucking my wrist while high fiving someone who had the same sweatshirt as me, bringing me back to the brace for another two weeks. Dumb dumb.

Best historical figure
Is Doug E. Doug a historical figure?

Best shirt
For my kickball team a few years ago, I took a few hours to painstakingly craft a stencil of Karl Malone’s face for our jerseys (we were Karl Malone and the Mailmen)… the stencil was super thin though, so after like two shirts it looked kinda distorted and gnarly. I got one of the least gnarly shirts and I would wear it every day if it didn’t say “666″ on the back of it… I still wear it quite a bit though.

Best thing to do with $20
What is there besides skipping lots of meals, not eating anything but rice, walking or riding your bike instead of taking the subway, getting your music off the internet, asking your friends to put you on guest lists for their five-dollar shows, then spending that twenty dollars on tipping well on overpriced bottles and cans of beers at bars in Brooklyn? I guess the best way to spend $20 is taking your girlfriend out to dinner or buying your buddies a drink. You owe ‘em.

Best party trick
I can play songs on my face by slapping my hollowed out cheeks. I can also fit my fist in my mouth.

Best monster
In all honesty I thought that the monster that chased Janice Ian from Mean Girls down the subway tunnel in Cloverfield and then dug into her back and made her eyes bleed and her body explode was pretty fucking bad ass. I also thought the smoke monster on Lost was pretty cool, but we need more action from it!

Best question ever asked of you in an interview. Now answer it:
From Scott Heisel, regarding Alternative Press’s 100 Bands You Need To Know in 2007:

“Some meaningful quotes from you about the band—your sound; what makes you special; why you do what they do; which is cooler, monkeys or ninjas; stuff like that. Just responding via e-mail is A-OK for this; no need to set up a phone interview. The more in-depth you can be, the better.”

My answer, circa January 2007: [Ed's note: The following is hilarious, poignant, unedited and far, far, far too long to be on the front page of a blog. Read it.] More… »

Last week, we launched our record label with a totally sweet comp of local dudes and ladies. This Christmas week, we’re proud to give to you, gentle reader and downloader, our second release, Aaron Zorgel and Friends Present: 808s and Fruitcake!. It’s easily the best collection of festive music you’re going to hear all year. Deal with it.

I think the first time I recorded music was in 1999. I had one of those double-deck tape players with a mic input, and I was rapping along with Limp Bizkit’s “Nookie.” I probably tossed the tape aside and forgot about it, eventually using it to tape my favourite songs from Edge 102. One of my best friends and I were listening to one of these radio compilations, when suddenly the radio rock ended, and a voice that was clearly mine came screaming over the speakers, “like a chump, HEYYY!”

My friend’s jaw dropped, and I immediately threw up my best defense: “How else am I supposed to learn how to rap?!”

Since then, I’ve been totally comfortable with home recording, and the really stupid and hilarious moments that can be immortalized in a song.

Over the past 5 years, I’ve recorded 4 albums worth of Christmas music with whomever I could convince it was a good idea. Using it as an excuse to hang out over the holidays, I get together with my friends, apply liberal eggnog, and record something silly and festive. Sometimes I get submissions from friends who record stuff themselves in their own home studios. In the end, I throw all the tracks on a CD-R with some DIY packaging, distribute it at local shows for free or PWYC, and toss the whole thing online for free download.

This year just might be the strongest effort yet, with 17 songs spanning nearly as many genres. Luckily I’ve got a sweet outlet for this super indulgent creative output, as the Juicebox Recording Co. has kindly agreed to make this Holiday record its second official release.

So head on over to the Juicebox Recording Co., and check out this year’s Christmas Album:

Aaron Zorgel and Friends Present: 808’s and Fruitcake!

If you’d like to dig deeper, check out my other blog-mistress www.funtimeinternet.com to download the previous three albums in their entirety.

At JUICEBOX HQ, we’ve never really had a case of the Mondays because we don’t have real-people jobs. But for those feeling a bit garfield this A.M., feel free to wallow in other people’s most hated things. Every Monday!

Well, this worked out nicely. In case you haven’t noticed, we launched a record label on Friday. Then we were worried if we’d have a good Worst Monday/Best Friday this week. Then Jeff Rosenstock got back to us. Besides playing in a sweet punk rock band, Rosenstock is also the dude behind Quote Unquote Records, the label we blatantly stole the model for Juicebox Recording Co. from. So, thanks!

Rosenstock’s musical career starts with the Arrogant Sons of Bitches, a ska-punk band from Long Island. They were pretty good. Then Rosenstock started making music by himself on his laptop and putting it online for free. This is when shit got real. Under the Bomb the Music Industry! moniker, Rosenstock’s weird laptop-punk rock got really interesting. Careening between sounding like Rx Bandits and Neutral Milk Hotel, Rosenstock was making some really exciting music. And he was releasing it in a (as far as we all know) brand-new way: online, for free, and with a sugested PayPal donation. The idea worked. Kids downloaded the band’s music from Quote Unquote Records’ website, they donated enough money to keep the whole thing afloat, and Rosenstock began touring Bomb the Music Industry! as a weird punk rock collective that only sometimes played with a drummer.

Since then, Bomb the Music Industry! has recorded an album with live drums (!!!) and Quote Unquote has released a shitton of great music by bands like Cheeky, the Riot Before, and We Versus the Shark. And, as of last week, they’ve now influenced at least one group of people to totally rip them off. Kudos, bros.

Worst day-job
My least favorite day job was this one temping job I had at an investment banking firm. I know that sounds interesting as hell to begin with, but my duties were particularly thrilling. My job was to push around a soda cart and make sure that each conference room had two cokes, three diet cokes, two snapples, etc. Once or twice a day I would also refill the refrigerators where these sodas were coming from. Pretty sweet, right? A lot of my job consisted of sitting down and doing nothing and staring at the wall. My supervisor who I was sharing a workspace with told me I couldn’t use the internet, so I was relegated to reading the extensions on the wall for hours until my soda cart round came up. One day I was working and there was a newspaper on the desk, so I was reading through it instead of staring at the wall. After about an hour of reading the paper and being told that there was no work to do I clarified, “Well, it’s okay if I read this paper then while I’m waiting to do the soda cart thing,” to which my supervisor said, “Actually, no it isn’t.” When I said, “Okay, well I just really think it isn’t useful for me to sit and stare into space for eight hours,” I was given the exciting task of taking Windex and wiping down all the cabinet doors in the entire office. That job shiiiiiiit.

Worst haircut
I think that the worst haircut I ever had was when I was a kid and I asked my barber to spike my hair, but my brother had already had spiked hair and I guess someone didn’t want us to have the same haircut so my barber gave me what was called a “parrot spike”, which is apparently when your hair is slicked back. So I looked like a fucking asshole eight-year-old, but I guess since I don’t have a photo of that one here’s a photo of me making a decision as an adult to look like a fucking asshole twenty-year-old.

Worst subculture
The worst subculture ever takes place in Brooklyn and can kinda be described as when hipsters hate hipsters. Basically a bunch of kids who are super snobby and pretentious about the music that they like and I guess they feel so guilty about being shitty that they spend a lot of their time making fun of people who act like that. There is an easy cure which is simply being more open minded about the things other people like and not being an asshole if you think their taste is lame. This also applies to white kids who have helped to gentrify their neighborhoods complaining about gentrification as well as college graduates complaining about college kids.

Worst date
I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been on a date ’cause I am a pretty bad socializer. One time I was hanging out with my girlfriend at our apartment on a cold day when we were getting cozy in bed and I put on City of God which is based on a true story and has a lot of kids getting murdered. She wasn’t too pumped.

Worst invention
Condoms. Guys, am I right?

Worst purchase
When I was on tour this summer I bought a bunch of keyboards at Guitar Center which they assured me I could return within 60 days (one keyboard) or two years (other keyboard). I bought them just to fuck around with every intention to return them when I got home as I couldn’t afford them, but I was lied to about the return policy and man, I could really use that eight hundred bucks right now more than I can use a heavy ass midi controller with weighted keys and drumpads that don’t do anything. Also, any miniature guitar I’ve ever bought has been a pretty fucking stupid purchase.

Worst way to die
How does pain work? Do you stop feeling pain once it’s just so crazy that you can’t deal with it? If pain is always pain then I think that having your skin peeled off and being eaten alive would be pretty bad. If not though, then getting buried alive would be awful especially cause you’d have to be alive for a while before you die in a small box of your piss and shit. Drowning also seems pretty terrible ’cause breathing rules shit.

Ben Rispin has played in a lot of bands (like the Video Dead and Saint Alvia). He’s toured with some more bands he wasn’t even in (like Jersey). And he was nominated for a Juno for Best Rock Album (really). With The Kids Today, he shares his years of hard-earned wisdom with a new generation of totally sweet dudes and ladies.

Soooo… the last thing I wrote for Juicebox got passed off as urban legend.

Let’s talk about another story I heard recently.

My friend Greg Taylor told me a tale that he heard from our friend Chris Danner who knew some people who had a pet snake. A big fucker like a boa or python. I, for one, am not sure why anyone would want a giant tube of evil made of leather skin who sports the face of Lucifer as a fucking pet. That shit is so far beyond me I can’t even begin to tell you. To top it off, you feed these hate tubes bunny rabbits. Cute, cuddly, hoppy bunny rabbits. Bunny Rabbits aka the only logical and worthy symbol of Christ’s resurrection. Man you have to be soooo twisted to have a snake.

Anyway, this couple, we’ll call them Sam and Ashley for the sake of this story, loved their pet snake. They loved it so so much. They let the little Hate Tube slither freely around their den of idiocy, also known as their home. They loved this guy so much that they would let it sleep in their bed. Yeah, get that.

So they’re growing to love the snake more and more and doing whatever it takes to keep the fucking thing happy. It got to the point where they were feeding it whole bunny rabbits. Bunny rabbits! But eventually it wouldn’t eat the bunnies. It wouldn’t even touch them. Oh no, they thought, our hell mouth of a pet may starve!

They bring the little guy to the vet and the doctor can’t seem to notice anything wrong with it, so he sends them home and tells them to keep watching for odd behaviour.

In the days to come, this ungrateful piece of shit still won’t eat the bunnies. And they’re noticing that sometimes when they wake up, the snake is straight as an arrow, stiff as a board.

“Unusual for a snake,” they thought, and went back to the doctor.

So doc hears that this Hate Tube is still not eating and now it’s maintaining these weird sleeping habits. What does he tell them? He tells them they HAVE to get rid of their pet because it’s FASTING AND PREPARING TO EAT THEM. What the fuck!!!! It’s a snake!!! Who sleeps with a hungry snake???!!!!

It’s like that grizzly man. He lived with bears. How did he die you ask? I’ll give you one guess.

These are wild animals. You might as well try to tongue kiss a lion. So I ask you readers to ponder this tale, as it has all the makings to be an urban legend. And it probably is. But I think I have to believe snakes exist. There’s just so much evidence.

Vagin of the week
This week’s honor goes to Shaquile O’Neal, who became only the 2nd NBA player to ever miss 5,000 free throws. If you don’t know what a free throw is, its when someone on the other team touches you too hard, and you get to stand 10 feet away from the net and take a free shot. That’s right, no one’s in your way, you don’t have to jump, you just get a free point. Or in Kazaam’s case, 5,000 squandered opportunities. To put this all in retrospect, Steve Nash has only ever missed 253.

This week in douches that used to play for Toronto sports teams
I’m not mad that he signed with another team. I’m not mad that the team is Vancouver. I’m not mad that he once said he wanted to finish his career with the Leafs, regardless of their success. I’m mad that last February, when he could have waived his no trade clause and helped Toronto’s future, he said he didn’t want to be a “rental player” and wanted to win the Cup by playing an entire season with a team. Oh right, the NHL season starts in January now, I completely forgot.

Well, goodbye Mats Sundin… you’re living out your American dream.

Top 5 Former Toronto athletes who are little bitch divas
5. Roger Clemens
4. Paul Tracy*
3. Eric Lindros
2. David Wells
1. Vince Carter

* He never really ”played” for Toronto (he races cars), but he’s from here. And he’s a monstrous douche.

This week in Canadian sports history
On December 19th, 1984, Wayne Gretzky scored two goals and four assists, becoming the fastest hockey player to ever score 1,000 points. He did it in 424 games which is 296 games faster than anyone ever had (Gordie Howe = 720 games). Just how great did Gretzky’s career go on to be? He is first on the all time list with 2,857 career points. Second Place? Mark Messier with 1,887.

Have any cool sports clips, articles, or ideas for stories? Send them my way: luc@juiceboxdotcom.

In an attempt to get the music we love in this city heard by more people, we have started a record label. Except we are cheap and poor, which, coupled with our youthful technological resourcefulness, means it’s an online-only, donation-based record label. It’s called Juicebox Recording Co. What’s up.

Our first release is a compilation of bands we like from Toronto. Some of the big-money shit on it includes unreleased songs from the Flatliners, Saint Alvia, This is Picture (ex-Mare), the Little Millionaires (ex-Bombs Over Providence), and the Wooden Sky. It’s really great. And is kind of all over the map genre-wise. Which we think is cool.

As for all the online/donation babble, we basically think that awesome music should be readily available to awesome people, who can then make up their own mind as to what that music is worth (monetarily) to them. We stole the whole idea from Quote Unquote Records, who rule and are so punk it kills me. Thanks, dudes.

We hope you enjoy these twenty songs and you tell all your friends all about how much fun you had downloading and listening to them. Music is so fucking great.

Enter the Recording Co. to download your own spectacular, personalized copy now.

What’s Worst Mondays without a dark and villainous foil? That’s the kind of thinking that forced us to create Best Fridays. So for all our weekend warrior brethren: Wooooo, T-G-I-F, right? Herein we hope to bookend your awful week by quizzing our previous Worst Mondays candidate about slightly more encouraging things. Every Friday!

Todd Taylor is responsible for one the best fanzines ever, Razorcake. And he edited Flipside. And he wrote some books. Clearly a good dude. Onwards and upwards!

Best injury
I’ve been scalped by going through a windshield. I was ejected from the car, then hit by oncoming traffic. I was thirteen.

I broke my leg so violently skating a pool so that when I looked down, my foot was pointing in the opposite direction. That was two years ago.

I broke my pinkie toe playing crab soccer. High school.

Take your pick.

Best historical figure
Got to go with Gandhi. Motherfucker took no shit but didn’t hit anyone. And unlike Martin Luther King, Jr., he didn’t have the Deacons of Defense behind him when he was preaching nonviolence.

Best shirt
The one I find myself gravitating to is Blöödhag’s “The Sooner You Go Deaf, The More Time You Have to Read” t-shirt. Fits well and condenses my world view nicely.

Best thing to do with $20
For $20, that pretty much covers an evening of DIY punk rock, a record directly from a touring band, and some bagged beers. That shit’s tight.

Best party trick
I’ve never, ever been out-burped. On a good day, I can do the alphabet.

Best monster
I wholeheartedly recommend The Flesh Eaters. The big-ass monster at the end that’s little more than Nazi-made protoplasm activated by electricity and bad intentions is badass and hilarious at the same time.

Best question ever asked of you in an interview. Now answer it:
Actually, Sean Carswell (co-Razorcake dude) and I were getting interviewed once and Kat Jetson, the interviewer, asked, “If you were a roller coaster, what would you be named?”

Without waiting a second, he replied, “Dangling Fury.”

This is Sam’s weekly column where he writes about a band he likes and tries to make the punk tag bigger in the sidebar tag cloud. Noble pursuits, dude.

Holy shit you have no idea how hard it is to find pictures of a band named “Virgins”. First of all, they’re not the only one. Secondly, that doesn’t even matter because you’ll never find a picture of either on this damned perv-web. Even searching for some combination of “virgins” and “fest 7″, where I first saw the band, gave me nothing but pictures of Oasis at this year’s Virgin Fest in Toronto. So that’s my day. This is a picture of Sam Johnson, the band’s singer guy, shouting around in his old band, New Mexican Disaster Squad. But just imagine he’s playing slightly more melodic pop-punk-cum-classic-hardcore instead of full-speed-ahead ’80s hardcore, and it will work just fine for you.

So Virgins is Sam’s post-NMDS band, and, not surprisingly, they rule. Where NMDS sounded like Black Flag, Virgins kind of sound like None More Black covering the first half of Minor Threat’s discography. I loved NMDS, and I think it’s even better. Because I just love pop-punk that doesn’t make me feel wimpy. Their debut full-length, Miscarriage, is a 1000% awesome songs recorded by the guy from Lords, so you know it sounds spacious and dirty. It’s got songs about how Religious America is crazy and how Jim Jones was crazy. It’s fast and it’s catchy and it’s gritty and it’s occasionally heavy but not in a real heavy way more just in the sense that it’s got guitars and a bass and drums and is infused with a love of the Damned who I guess weren’t that heavy but whatever it’s awesome all the time.

Playboy has been forced to issue an apology to the whole country of Mexico over this, the cover of the Mexican edition of the magazine which depicts a very Virgin Mary looking model looking very nude. The issue came out on the first of December, a few days before some big festival where a bunch of people try to placate themselves and deal with their own pending mortality (also known as the annual Roman Catholic pilgrimage to the Mexico City shrine of the Virgin of Guadalupe). As a result, a bunch of Roman Catholics were deeply, profoundly offended. Apparently Playboy just wanted to “reflect a Renaissance-like mood”, which sounds kind of sexy, I guess. I’m sure the Pope is down.

As reported over at my main employer’s HQ, this awesome dude named Dante Knoxx was trying to sell his soul on eBay. With a starting bid of £25,000.50, Knoxx was prepared to sign over a percent of his annual income, 10 percent of the intellectual works of his band, Paradigm, along with an annual soul report and a birthday card on Knoxx’s birthday. And, you know, his fucking soul. Then eBay, being total buzzkills, came in and closed his offer two hours before the auction’s scheduled end. Even though he had no bidders, Knoxx was still bummed, and rightly so: they let Robert Johnson’s soul go for a measly 60 bucks about a month ago. The internet is totally insane.

Guess? It rules, too. That’s it. See you soon.

At JUICEBOX HQ, we’ve never really had a case of the Mondays because we don’t have real-people jobs. But for those feeling a bit garfield this A.M., feel free to wallow in other people’s most hated things. Every Monday!

It’s always a pleasure to interact with dudes like Todd Taylor, the people who prove that punk rock, with its “ethics” and “ideals,” doesn’t end when you leave high school. Todd Taylor is the proof that you can operate completely outside of mainstream media culture and live. Happily. And contribute to a valuable, viable culture that you actually believe in. For Taylor, that’s punk rock. We’re in.

Taylor is kind of the punk rock journalist guy. He was the managing editor of Flipside, the Los Angeles-based punk fanzine/bible, until it shuttered in 2001. Looking to keep the dream alive, he and Sean Carswell founded Razorcake that same year (for some reason not going with the way-awesomer name Barbed Wire Asshole). Since then, Razorcake has become an institution all its own — a bi-monthly fanzine, a record label, and a partnership with Gorsky Press all keep Taylor and Carwell pretty busy.

Somehow, Taylor has also managed to find time to publish a collection of some his best interviews in Born to Rock and edit a collection of fiction called Shirley Wins, his first novel. He does what he does well, and he does it all through completely independent means and channels. Which rules. We salute you, Mr. Taylor. Now, your turn.

Worst day-job
When I first moved to L.A., I worked for a temp agency. Got a gig at Bank of America Business Credit. Went to work before the sun came up, got off after it came down as the main desk secretary because I’m a fast typist. On the up side, I got to see some yuppie holiday freakouts. A guy broke his hand by karate chopping an elevator door because it didn’t open quickly enough. Ties look like nooses on me and people can tell.

Worst haircut
I’ve only had two non-family-member-doing-it haircuts in my life. Pretty basic shit. Of the two non-family ones, I came out of the hair salon like one of the Thompson Twins. The lady.

Worst subculture
Pretty much any one where I’m greeted by, “What the fuck you looking at, faggot?” which is quite a few of them.

Worst date
I forget if it was prom or homecoming, but the nice lady I lost my virginity to that night said she was sleepy afterwards, so I went home at about 10 p.m. She got back in her car, went to the casino we visited for dinner, then had sex with the comedian we’d seen earlier.

Worst invention
Capitalism appropriated through Social Darwinism into becoming the meanest fucking way to take money from people ever conceived. Or nuclear power/warfare. That turned out to be a real pickle. Third choice would be the for-home combination hot dog bun warmer, hot dog heater. Boil the hot dogs in a pan, put the bun on the lid.

Worst purchase
I thought it was a great purchase at the time. 1972 Ford Courier pickup, mustard, roof rack with tennis balls at the end, so I wouldn’t puncture my skull when I got in. Loved it until it developed a phantom electrical problem. I had a gun pulled on me in Inglewood because the backfire was mistaken as gunfire. Months later, I was driving down the freeway, it backfired the rear of the muffler clean off, the back pressure started an engine fire, and I just sat there for a couple of minutes on the side of the freeway, defeated. I put out the flames right before they’d burned through the fuel line, seconds away from a CHiPs moment.

Worst way to die
When I was a kid, my brother and I would hide from each other and scare and hit one another. One of my best shots was picking the lock on the bathroom door and waiting to see his elbows go up when he was shampooing his hair. That way, I knew he’d have his eyes closed and hands out of the way. I punched him full force through the shower curtain. Probably the best shot I ever got on him. The worst was when I decided to hide in a cedar hope chest. I got in and it locked. Perfect coffin for a kid. About three hours later, my brother, who was making a model plane in the garage, came looking for me and I’d almost asphyxiated. Still have a hard time with cedar and watching baseball on TV. There was a Cardinals game on that I could see through the keyhole. I really thought I was going to die.

From the BBC:

“So what if the guy threw a shoe at me?”

That should be your motto in life, take notes. I’m gonna miss the lil guy. Don’t you wish we could all hang when this is done?

Simply the best.

This is a special collector edition of the Sexy Sunday Sports Section.

This week we celebrate America and how the most popular baseball team in the world is setting the example during tough economic times by frivolously spending insane amounts of money on pitchers.

The New York Yankees have signed CC Sabathia (formerly a Milwaukee Brewer) and AJ Burnett (formerly and currently a shitty pitcher) to a 7 year/$161 million contract and a 5 year/$82.5 million contract, respectively. Which brings the ultimate question:

What you and your buddy could buy with USD$243,500,000:

-174,820,144 Big Macs

-53,642,384 shares of Domino’s Pizza Inc.

-30,413,016 used copies of Jingle All The Way

-16,200,000 mickeys of JD

-you could see Seven Pounds 12,150,000 times

-6,944,841 copies of Pokemon Pearl (or Diamond)

-6,075,000 sets of the Twilight book series

-745.000 full outfits at Aritzia

-486,000 iPhones (in Canada)

-12,150 2009 SmartCars (Urkel Car) including the insurance

-243 Tim Horton’s franchises

-97 times a CFL team’s payroll

-9 times A-Rod’s contract

-8 trips to space with NASA (or 29 trips with the Russians)

-1 big fucking waste of money

So long AJ you stupid sack of worthless shit.

Have any cool sports clips, articles, or ideas for stories? Send them my way luc@juiceboxdotcom.com.

Whoever keeps planting search phrases that lead to this site is really bringing the lols during my obsessive stats browse this afternoon.

Maaaaaan.

She’s no Bettie Page (maybe half as sexy on a good day), but man am I ever bummed. And not just because I’m out of a job, but because it’s the first thing I read every single day. Here’s hoping a new city voice rises from the ashes of such a tireless staff of cool dudes and ladies to publish under a non-Gothamist banner.

Does this mean I have to read BlogTO now?

(in cheerier related-ish news, happy 5th anniversary to Spacing)

So what if she converted to Christianity and became a Baptist missionary in Angola and worked with Billy Graham in the ’70s? Angola seems like an alright place, and I’m sure Billy Graham isn’t actually a total douche. There’s very little from the 1950s that our internet-ruinated eyes can still find classy and sexy, but godamn if Bettie Page wasn’t just as sexy in 2008 as 1958. She was unashamedly sexually liberated in a time when it really wasn’t cool to be unashamedly sexually liberated, and her hair cut ruled. Parkdale is crying. You will be missed, but seriously.

What’s Worst Mondays without a dark and villainous foil? That’s the kind of thinking that forced us to create Best Fridays. So for all our weekend warrior brethren: Wooooo, T-G-I-F, right? Herein we hope to bookend your awful week by quizzing our previous Worst Mondays candidate about slightly more encouraging things. Every Friday!

So Jessica Hopper blogs, writes, and is generally better than all of us. You’ll notice that we normally refer to the people we write about as “better than you”, but this time, we’re lumping our omnipotent selves in with you lowly peasants. Yeah, she’s better than JUICEBOXdotcom. We’re pretty weirded out, too.

Best injury
Fell off a ladder while holding a scissors and stabbed myself in the ass. I was pranking my roommate by gluing some of his belongings to the ceiling, so I was getting my karmic due.

Best historical figure
Herzog c. Fitzcarraldo and or Lincoln c. 1863.

Best thing to do with $20
Buy cards and stamps and write to elderly relatives.

Best party trick
Not partying.

Best monster
America.

This is Sam’s weekly column where he writes about a band he likes and tries to make the punk tag bigger in the sidebar tag cloud. Noble pursuits, dude.

Whiskey Trench are this awesome band from Montreal that I first got into when they played all the Saint Catherines‘ Quebec release shows. I was interviewing Hugo from S.C. and I couldn’t really understand what he was saying because I was on a shitty phone and he’s got a pretty thick Quebecois accent and I’m sort of an asshole. So he was talking about this band and it took me a bunch of really intense Googlefying variations of the syllables I was able to decipher before I realized the band was “Whiskey Trench”, which is obviously an insanely rad name. Since then I’ve been convinced that they’re one of the best punk bands in Montreal even though I’ve never seen them live. I was reminded of this fact today when I stumbled on If You Make It, which is basically the best website on the planet. If you check out their section of free (awesome) albums, you can download Whiskey Trench’s The Good Sun, a fast, gritty, super-rad and out-of-print 7″originally released by Dead Broke Rekerds. It’s really good. Go, now.

Ben Rispin has played in a lot of bands (like the Video Dead and the Saint Alvia Cartel). He’s toured with some more bands he wasn’t even in (like Jersey). And he was nominated for a Juno for Best Rock Album (really). With The Kids Today, he shares his years of hard-earned wisdom with a new generation of totally sweet dudes and ladies.

So this is a different kind of Kids Today. This is more of a cautionary tale about not to trust napping outside of Canada.

My friend Cam’s brother’s name is Guy. Guy is a nice “guy.” A little rough around the edges, enjoys simple pleasures like hustling money, having “cold ones,” and hurting people (especially Cam).

Recently in life Guy has met a girl in Colombia and has been spending time there. I think there is talk of marriage but I guess time will tell.

So on Guy’s last trip he was taking a nap on the beach. Guy felt something tickle his arm, figured it was just a bite of some sort. When Guy got home, his “bite” had become bothersome. He started to think it was a massive ingrown hair. Fevers started accompanying the pain.

While spending time at Cams, Guy started messing with this “ingrown hair.” It was starting to pus and Cam described it to me as being the size of a nipple.

He then mesed with it a bit and something long and black seemed to fall out. He tugged on it and Cam swears it was a leg.

Guy went to the doctors and they figured it was a bot fly. Apparently a type of fly that lays eggs in flesh. He scheduled his appointment to have this bot fly removed surgically and got on medication for his fevers. The fevers just got worse and worse.

He went in for the procedure and what they found was not a bot fly at all but a freaking tarantula!!!!!!!! It was still in the sac and was using his arm as a womb!!!!!!! It was laying belly up and maturing into a full blown spider!!! FUCKING GROSS!!!!!!!

He was getting fevers due to the venom leaking into his system. If he had waited much longer he probably wouldn’t have survived. That shit is just fucking crazy.

If you’ve ever needed further proof that most of the great people who live in North America are xenophobic and vulnerable to suggestion, there’s a big ol’ storm a-brewin’ in the mall this Christmas. Supposedly, the good folks at Fisher Price are marketing a doll to the impressionable gentile youth of our nation that coos, giggles, says “mama” and, of course “Islam is the light.” Check it:

According to Mattel, Little Mommy Cuddle just makes sounds, none of which sound like “night” or “light.” Those sound files are compressed and played through a tiny, crappy speaker. So there’s an outside chance terrified parents could hear demonic, Child’s Play-like phrases. Enough of them have complained and returned the toys to prompt Mattel to eliminate the potentially offensive sound-thing from future runs of the dolls. But outside of a few Targets in the U.S., the toys appear to be staying on store shelves. Which is prompting a lot of uproar on the internet from people who seem convinced that an unintelligible sound clip is going to turn all their children into terrorists. Just listen to the enlightened words of Jim Markell, founder and director of Olive Tree Ministries:

This is not a healthy thing to be putting out in the marketplace when we’re in a war on terror, and little children are so susceptible to the messages they hear — even from a doll — then to take them into the school and talk about them. So yeah, this is a serious thing.

But this obviously isn’t the first time overzealous Americans have heard weird shit coming out of dolls.

Remember the Teletubby that said, “Bite my butt“?

How about the Little Mermaid doll that called people “sluts“?

And finally, the killer Tickle Me Elmo? Oh yeah, an the other killer Elmo.

The ultimate cliché album has me fighting with myself to not write cliché jokes about it. Roofies, frat boys/sorority girls, keg stands, gym passes, fantasy football leagues, drunk driving, Greek alphabets: all off limits. I’m gonna walk 500 miles in someone else’s shoes for once.

This album plays out like a party should play out. Classics, bangers, mash-ups, slo jams and a couple of bi-curious sing-alongs. Buy a twelve pack of beer, drink 6 and put the album on. “Fuck you bro, my stereo = my tunes.” Drink the other 6 (or maybe give a couple away to babes or friends, cause who really drinks 12?) throughout the course of the album and see where I stand at that point. Knowing my (hypothetical) self, I’d be having a real good time. “I’ll fuck anything that moves!” Rad.

By the time “Paradise By The Dashboard Light” comes on, I’m ready for bed (baby, baby, lemme sleep on it). Best frosh week ever! Best Best of Frosh cd ever!

The grass is pretty green on that side, plus they’ve got a killer soundtrack.

At JUICEBOX HQ, we’ve never really had a case of the Mondays because we don’t have real-people jobs. But for those feeling a bit garfield this A.M., feel free to wallow in other people’s most hated things. Every Monday!

Jessica Hopper writes good stuff about punk rock. And other kinds of music. And things that aren’t music, like feminism and bed-wetting. She’s really good at what she does. We kind of wish we were that good at what we do. But hey. You need goals, right?

Hopper’s been cutting and pasting zines since she was a teen, but it was Hit It or Quit It, a collectively-compiled collection of music, culture, and general zine-y writing, that launched her into the upper-echelon of zine-people. Her work has since appeared in bucket-ton of places, from the Chicago Tribune to Stop Smiling to SPIN to her own popular blog, Tiny Lucky Genius. Her long-running column in the recently(ish) defunct Punk Planet yielded one of the magazine’s most infamous pieces, “Emo: Where the Girls Aren’t“, a controversial, smart, really, really relevant examination of the inherent misogyny of everyone’s favourite “genre/plague”, as Hopper describes things.

Currently hard at work editing a book for young girls about how to start to a band and be awesome, Hopper’s getting ready to help educate a whole new wave of smart, forward-thinking punks. She took some time away from this noble pursuit to tell us about buying rugs on eBay.

Worst day-job
I have been self-employed/freelance since I was 19 and the last job I had was the worst. I was a cocktail waitress at this restaurant/club in Hollywood that did a lot of corpo music biz and movie wrap parties. The tacit agreement was that sure for the $300-a-night pay you were not to bitch and smile big despite that B-list actors and gross A&R dudes were petting you like a Labrodoodle.

Worst haircut
Senior year of high school, I shaved my head. I looked like a Mon Chi-Chi.

Worst subculture
I would say nu-neon-hippy, but you can’t really call something sub when it’s Urban Outfitters dominant paradigm.

Worst date
The ones where I didn’t realize it was a date until I was on it.

Worst invention
Apathy

Worst purchase
Rugs off eBay. One arrived encrusted with a kilo of sand.

Worst way to die
I’ve spent a lot of time at hospitals and nursing homes this year and I think those are as brutal as any other way to go, in a sterile environment, hooked to machines, filled with super-medicines, attended to rotating shifts of strangers trying to keep you from dying. It’s just grim.

Vagin of the week
As if you didn’t know who it would be. This man.

This week in sports history
Today is Terrell Owens’ birthday!

UN-Coolest thing that happened this past week (still)
Raptors head coach Sam Mitchell was fired because the team is supposed to be better and it’s actually worse. Well… maybe the other teams are just better now. Either way, the only Canadian NBA team now has a Canadian head coach in Jay Triano! And it will be like that for at least six games! Six games they will lose! YAY!

In other news, Andrew Bargnani, if you’re reading, I got two words for you: YOU FUCKING SUCK YOU DAZED LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER.

This week in keeping your mouth shut
This week’s event is summed up in an interview with my girlfriend who wishes to remain anonymous:

Me: So what happened this week?
GF: Sean Avery called Elisha Cuthbert ’sloppy seconds’
Me: Why?
GF: I don’t know…maybe because he’s jealous the other dude (Dion Phaneuf) has her?
Me: And why is it bad to call her sloppy seconds?
GF: Because it’s rude and degrading.
Me: How would you feel if I dumped you for Elisha?
GF: Well she’s pretty and famous so I couldn’t really hold it against you. And then she could introduce me to her actor friends and I could do them. Actor friends like Daniel Craig.

This week’s pop quiz
Would you bang Elisha Cuthbert because:

a) she banged most of your favourite hockey players
b) she is Jack Bauer’s daughter
c) you had a crush on her in Popular Mechanics For Kids
d) she was in Love Actually for 4 seconds

Have any cool sports clips, articles, or ideas for stories? Send them my way luc@juiceboxdotcom.com.

Via Torontoist:

Little bitta context for our bluehaired friends.

Alright, everyone who’s sick of the rampant takeover of this website by my Canadian Political Fury, I’m sorry. Get ready for more. But this time, politics has booze! So, you love it. Also, I’m not really sorry.

We here at JUICEBOXdotcom have never tried to hide the fact that we think all Australians are totally nuts. To drive this point home, it looks like they’re considering installing breathalyzers in their parliament. Because shit like this keeps happening:

“State police minister Matt Brown was dumped from his portfolio in September after allegedly “dirty” dancing in his underwear over the chest of a female colleague after a drunken post-budget office party.”

Awesome. Totally awesome. And, you know:

“New South Wales state lawmaker Andrew Fraser resigned from his conservative opposition frontbench role after shoving a female colleague in the wake of Christmas party celebrations.”

Apparently Sydney’s Daily Telegraph started calling for breath-testing politicians before they enter parliament, and now they might get their wish. Good job, England. You didn’t have anywhere better to put a penal colony in the 1700s?