Hey, what’s new? Probably a lot since last we spoke. Us too… we really should try catching up more often. But I get it, you’re busy, we’re busy. We should just enjoy the time that we do have. SO! The latest episode of Talk Show Night at Juicebox Manor is now online, featuring the mighty & newly minted ANVIL (our first and only guest to have also been on Conan O’Brien. Look out late night network TV, we are limping toward you in a menacing albeit friendly way). On the very same episode, we go to DJ school with Maximum RNR to learn how to do what the kids do, AND we get drunk with power and feature Juicebox Recording Co.’s own Cool Dad… who may or may not have broken up since we filmed this, rendering our incestuousness useless. But what an episode! Also, feel free to check out the episode previous to that, which is just as full of fun and whimsy and high-flying death-defying action, with The Gaslight Anthem (and a 4-year old), Diableros, and a basement performance by the king of beards himself, Mayor McCa. Lots of fancy news on its way about Recording Co. releases in the near future too. Oh, and I think we have an intern now. More on that when we wrap our brains around it.

Hey sweet peach. You’ll be tickled to know that episode 12 of our TV show is online now. In this whirlwind teevee adventure, Gonzalez teaches us how to properly disrespect a piano, The Hidden Cameras’ Joel Gibb tells Canada what’s what, and Halifax’s own Cousins play a couple songs in the basement. And hey, while we’ve got you, be sure to check out Punknews and Paper & Plastick’s limited pressing vinyl auction for the Haiti disaster relief effort. There’s a bunch of cool, super rare stuff available (including a 1/100 blank sleeve pressing of the final Hostage Life album that was supposed to be a full art pressing of 1000 but the band broke up blahblahblah, you know the story). All proceeds go to Doctors Without Borders. In the same vein, The Decay have announced that all donations from their record that we recently released will now be going to www.chglobal.org.

Oh hey bros. We’re back! Twenty ten, listen to Len! Hope everyone had a relaxed or insane end to 2009, depending on your preference. We’ve been busy, making new episodes of our smash hit TV show and using our newfound digital cable celebrity to pass ourselves off as some kind of “experts” on Allan Cross’ TV show. Then we posted another great record for you to love forever. Hey, do you use Twitter? It’s awesome, follow us. If you do, you are automatically entered for a chance to win a great time, every day, when you look at your Twitter. Life! It’s a miracle. Stay real.

It’s holiday time at the manor which means we can update the site even less than usual. Great! Before we go, we wanted to celebrate our ever increasing love for You and Yours with this HOLIDAY MESSAGE from Us and Ours (featuring some of our studliest houseguests from the past year). If that’s not enough, we’ve got our dear Aaron Zorgel’s annual Christmas miracle/holiday mixtape/celebration of friends up for grabs. AND one of our favourite interviews + episodes of the show is now online. Mow down! Merry this and that! See you in 2010, buttheads.

Things are hectic at the buddy factory as usual, so here are some gifts in lieu of our embarrassingly characteristic lack of updates. GIFT ONE: Not one, but TWO brand new EPs direct from Montreal + straight to your download finger here (by Dig It Up!) and here (by Prevenge!). GIFT TWO: several newly internet-ified episodes of our AUX teevee show. GIFT THREE: a kiss. Come collect at 633 Clinton between the hours of 2 & 3 a.m., Monday through Friday. Or Friday night at the Press Club where you’ll have to kiss Greg too for his birthday.

We’re pretty sure that headline makes us looks cool. Last week’s stellar episode of the show is now online, featuring us going to California for Warped Tour, an interview with the Reason, and a performance from the Roman Line. This week’s episode, airing tonight at 11pm on AUX, features us trying to find KISS in Quebec City, an interview with Spookey Rueben, and a performance from the Darcys. 1000% bangers.

So. Hostage Life broke up right before Centre of the Universe was sent to press. The band + us decided that pressing hundreds of copies was now probably an unsound idea; pressing was halted, and in fully shitty news, the gorgeous full-art copies we were all stoked about will never see the light of day. The band is, however, pressing 100 blank label copies to mail out to anyone who pre-ordered and to sell at their last few shows. We wish things had worked out, but life is one crazy motherfucker.

With the Fest over and our kittens headed back to the den, things are slowly returning to normal at the manor. Episode four of the show (feat. Tokyo Police Club + Crystal Antlers) is online now; our Canadian Fest Comp is still available (freshly antiquated and collectible!); and today the Toronto Star called our show “a cross between a regular talk show and a riotous house party.” Thank god tonight’s episode (11 p.m.! Rogers cable 107!) is a banger: Josh Reichmann, Dave Bidini, and D-Sisive.

For the last eight years, the folks behind No Idea Records have organised a monster punk circus called the Fest. In the past, Canadian representation has been limited. As in, one band out of about 300. But this year, seven filthy Canuck rock units are headed down to Gainesville to blow minds. So we’ve compiled tracks for all but one Fest-bound Canadian band. And it rules. And you can go download it now.

Last week’s hotly-anticipated second episode of Talk Show Night at Juicebox Manor–wherein we hit the Steamwhistle Brewery with United Steelworkers of Montreal, talk dead bodies and dating with Alexisonfire, and The Thermals play the basement (no big deal)–is now online. On tonight’s on-the-actual-TV episode (11 p.m.! Rogers 107!): Woodhands, Wax Mannequin, and The Artist Life.

Last week marked the debut of our real-life, parent-impressing TV show, Talk Show Night at Juicebox Manor. Everyone we watched it with said it ruled, and we don’t think they’re biased or unlikely to express dissent, so the show must rule. Now you can watch it online and decide for yourself if we’re full of it or not.

The thing we’ve been yammering about forever is happening, finally, in the real world. The trailer is up. The countdown is on. Tomorrow, Tuesday, October 6th, at 11:00pm, Talk Show Night At Juicebox Manor becomes a TV show that you, your mom, and your best friends can all watch, love, and enjoy forever. If you live in Ontario, Quebec, New Brunswick or Newfoundland, you can catch the fever on Rogers Cable 107. Elsewhere, head to www.aux.tv to fall in love all over again. We are stoked. You are stoked.

While we squeaked in with the midnight release of Hostage Life’s utterly rad sophomore full-length record, Centre of the Universe, we were faced with the simultaneous complete meltdown of our server. After endless discussions, revisited mixes, couriered masters and fierce uploading, this whole night rested on two pots of coffee, one large pizza, and an endless series of calls to some guys in California, offering indisputable proof that God hates Hostage Life and doesn’t want you to hear their record. Do you need a better reason to download it right now?

(Pictured: Webmaster losing his mind trying to not fail at delivering maximum rock to you on schedule.)

We’ve talked about it in dark rooms with large beers, and there have been murmurs over these interwebs, but we are officially making it official: Hostage Life will be releasing their massively rad sophomore full-length through the Juicebox Recording Co. on September 30th. It’s called Centre of the Universe. It’s incredible. Donny Cooper recorded it and Alex Snelgrove did the artwork. There will be vinyl. You will be stoked. Check out this video for a snippet of just how good this record is going to be. If you like punk rock and thinking about stuff, you will be down.

All you really need to do is peep our little blurb for the latest JBR release to see how much we love this band, but just to drive it home, Horses are an incredible band, Brotherly Love is an incredible recording, and we’re stoked and honoured to be able to share it with you, glorious internet. If you like rock music, people that are nice, songs that are good, or enjoying life, you should probably give it a download.

When we were younger, thinner, and much bigger fans of the first Fenix TX album, there was this band from Windsor, Ontario, who were awesome. They were called Sewing With Nancie. They changed their name and stopped playing all their old songs without ever playing a real farewell show, so six years later, they’re playing six final shows and putting things to rest for good. And we’re releasing their discography. High school awesome times deploy.

There’s this movie that rules. It’s called Dazed and Confused. We hadn’t watched it ’round the JB Manor in a little while, but in a moment of beautiful serendipity, we basically re-watched the movie and got introduced to Party At The Moontower the next day. These guys seem to be dedicated solely to rocking extremely hard and referencing Richard Linklater’s best movie all day, ever day. It’s a rad combination that works well if you like good music and sweet films. The decision to release their debut EP was a pretty easy one, despite them living way far away in “beautiful” and “serene” Vancouver, which has always seemed way too simultaneously bourgeoisie and dangerous for us. Mostly because it is awesome. Enjoy it, and relish in what a dink Fred O’Bannion was.

Well, for one, what can really be said after a MEMBER OF FUGAZI PLAYS IN YOUR BASEMENT (tv = fun amirite?!) But mostly we’ve been slacking because the Juicebox house band and co-proprietors of this ghostship are on tour and I’ve been busy forgetting that computers co-exist with ice cream in the summertime. But! NXNE is coming up, the bars are open till 4, and the aforementioned Junior Bagels will be there (UO / No Idea Records showcase on Thursday w/ the awesome Bridge & Tunnel from Brooklyn NY +++), so let’s go to that together and reminisce about days of yore. I’m buying. But only if you wear that shirt. You know the one.

When we started putting out records last December, I doubt anyone anticipated we’d already be at a total of ten gorgeous records by May. Well, what’s up. Ten records. The latest of which is the kind of high-water mark I didn’t think we’d reach for a while: the complete discography of Burlington punks the Video Dead. The first time I ever saw them play was at the Bovine a few years back; their singer kept spitting beer on everyone and he scared the shit out of me. Plus their bassist had this weird chud-baby-skull-thing bass, which was also kind of disconcerting. Then we all became friends now we’re releasing the career-spanning A Face For Radio… But Not The Songs. Life is rad like that sometimes.

In other news that doesn’t make my high school brain fold in on itself, we’ve got some big plans for this summer. Like most seasons. This time, watch out for a Repo Man tribute night. Yeah. Details and Emilio worship to follow.

We’re still busy collecting our sanity (and the wreckage that is our house minus a film crew) this week after wrapping the first four episodes of the show with a bunch of in-house “interviews” (including a round of the dating game wherein Justin’s ex-girlfriend gets fresh with Alexisonfire). Speaking of yer buds in AOF, we’ve got a showcase at this year’s Over the Top Fest, a mixed bbq featuring headliner Hunter (members of Alexisonfire, Moneen, and The Abandoned Hearts Club), a couple of Juicebox bands (Cool Dad, Ulysses and the Siren), and out-of-towners The Narrative (from Brooklyn NY). Best yet, it’s at Dee’s this Friday (May 22). You were gonna be there anyway!

Definitely a bit of a bananas month here at the manor as we scramble to complete the first season of our TeeVee show. This week begins with The Thermals gracing our basement to play some songs. Tuesday we’ll be feeding ducks and scoping babes in the park with Woodhands. And Friday our lucky lil basement (seriously, it’s starting to get a big head) will see performances by both Crystal Antlers and Wax Mannequin. All while we continue to cover the best film festival this city has to offer by seeing more movies in a week than we’d normally see all year (look forward to coverage involving the stars of Troll 2 and Best Worst Movie). Yiiiiiiip.

How are you? Yeah? Great to hear. Just another week at the office for us that’ll see bands like Nomeansno and The Rural Alberta Advantage play in our basement(!) for episodes 2 & 3 of our forthcoming TV program that I swear we are not just pulling your leg about. Also, we’ve got a new release for you to feast your ears upon by Haligonian ex-pats Cool dad. AND an event you should probably hang with us at: Juicebox house band Junior Battles’ cd release party at the El Mocambo. Friday! Let’s drink about it. (oh, and, uh, we got a, uh, twitter account. new hot updates! wassup haters.)

Have you watched the Terminator films recently? Well, a very potent strain of “feeling like total shit” has swept JBHQ this week, and seriously, those first two movies own your life. The third one is just kind of funny. In non-Terminator-related news, the Recording Co. is pleased to announce the release of Saint Alvia VS. Jeremy Chambers, our first release from anyone ever nominated for a Juno. It’s awesome, go download it. Right on.

I can’t believe that all it took was South Park calling Kanye West a gay fish to float that space cadet’s enormous head back to earth. I haven’t seen the whole of last night’s episode yet (mostly because I’m busy half-watching Event Horizon), but Idolator describes it as such:

Because of his giant ego and self-proclaimed genius, Kanye is the only person who doesn’t get [a dirty joke], and this leads him on a quest for self-discovery in which he knocks the joke-stealer Carlos Mencia’s head off with a baseball bat, holds Cartman and Jimmy hostage, and ultimately accepts that he is a gay fish, engaging in underwater Autotuned bestiality.

SOLD. Now for the bananas part. From Kanye’s blog (still in all caps, but this time not a rant!):

SOUTH PARK MURDERED ME LAST NIGHT AND IT’S PRETTY FUNNY. IT HURTS MY FEELINGS BUT WHAT CAN YOU EXPECT FROM SOUTH PARK! I ACTUALLY HAVE BEEN WORKING ON MY EGO THOUGH. HAVING THE CRAZY EGO IS PLAYED OUT AT THIS POINT IN MY LIFE AND CAREER. I USE TO USE IT TO BUILD UP MY ESTEEM WHEN NOBODY BELIEVED IN ME. NOW THAT PEOPLE DO BELIEVE AND SUPPORT MY MUSIC AND PRODUCTS THE BEST RESPONSE IS THANK YOU INSTEAD OF “I TOLD YOU SO!!!” IT’S COOL TO TALK SHIT WHEN YOU’RE RAPPING BUT NOT IN REAL LIFE. WHEN YOU MEET LITTLE WAYNE IN PERSON HE’S THE NICEST GUY FOR EXAMPLE. I JUST WANNA BE A DOPER PERSON WHICH STARTS WITH ME NOT ALWAYS TELLING PEOPLE HOW DOPE I THINK I AM. I NEED TO JUST GET PAST MYSELF. DROP THE BRAVADO AND JUST MAKE DOPE PRODUCT. EVERYTHING IS NOT THAT SERIOUS. AS LONG AS PEOPLE THINK I ACT LIKE A BITCH THIS TYPE OF SHIT WILL HAPPEN TO ME. I GOT A LONG ROAD AHEAD OF ME TO MAKE PEOPLE BELIEVE I’M NOT ACTUALLY A HUGE DOUCHE BUT I’M UP FOR THE CHALLENGE. I’M SURE THE WRITERS AT SOUTH PARK ARE REALLY NICE PEOPLE IN REAL LIFE. THANKS FOR TAKING THE TIME TO DRAW MY CREW. THAT WAS PRETTY FUNNY ALSO!! I’M SURE THERE’S GRAMMATICAL ERRORS IN THIS… THAT’S HOW YOU KNOW IT’S ME!

This from the same guy who thinks (amongst a billion other things) that if the Bible was modernized, he would be a principle character. And now he’s completely reformed. What self-important dinkus am I supposed to look up to now? Billy Bob Thornton? Regardless: South Park, ladies and gentlemen.

Lots for us, thanks. It’s been a gigantor month traffic-wise thanks to everybody stuffing their faces with our last few releases. Some cool announcements/records/burgersandwiches coming soon, possibly even this week. Until then, for all none of you living in London, Ontario, go see our mega pals in Great Lenin’s Ghost (you may remember them from such releases as JUICEBOXdotcomp) open for some boyband called Tokyo Police Club (this Thursday! Call the Office!). We’ll be there. If you see us, say hello and I swear we’ll buy you a car.

As you can hopefully tell, we’ve been pretty busy lately making your life great. We’ve got the first release from Ulysses and the Siren (ex-Cain and Abel), plus our very first limited-time download — The Darcys’ cover of Final Fantasy’s “The CN Tower Belongs to the Dead” (with the blessing of sir Owen Pallett). If you’re in Toronto and feel the need to party about it, we’ll see you at this week’s show featuring the above bands alongside fellow JBR friends (and master brewers), Cool Dad. ALSO: JBR on FB. Do it.

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!

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.