Fat Freddy’s Drop is a reggae/soul band from New Zealand. Possibly the only one. And they’re really good. If you like good music, that is. If you like bad music, go here.
Check out Fat Freddy’s Drop’s website, or just take our word for it and buy it from iTunes.
They were brought to our attention by the good folks over at 88nine Radio Milwaukee. If you find yourself stranded in front of a computer with nothing to listen to, stream a little independent radio to your ear-holes. [ms]
That’s right, everyone’s favorite hyper-allergic sidekick now represents the judicial interests of multinational conglomerates. I was thinking of dropping him a line and asking if he could get me in the door with Winnie. [ms]
It’s the same old story. Man gets his girlfriend pregnant, takes off and leaves her to do it by herself while he smokes a lot of rock, woman raises the child until he is 18. At 18, he seeks out his father. He’s a kid on the wrong path, running with a rough crowd- guns are invariably involved. The father, wizened in his older age, pleads with his son to get away from the violence-drenched streets… in the shower. Then he goes to the batting cages.
Visit Reh Dogg’s website for the longest flash intro ever. It’s pretty awesome. [ms]
On a completely unrelated note, this made me laugh so hard, coffee came out of my tear ducts.
Via College Humor
With all the user-generated content sites, flashy Web 2.0 widgets and gadgets, and all-around high-tech wankery floating about in our interweb, it’s easy to forget about the things that made the internet so great in the first place.
In its infancy, the great revolution of the internet was that anyone who had a couple bucks to cobble together some sort of internet-ready pc could spread his unique vision around the world. Alas, today’s “Hamster Dance” and “All Your Base Are Belong To Us” have become yesterday’s Lambada and Pet Rock- mere glimpses into our tacky and sordid past, completely taken for granted. Once the sheen was buffed off of the internet, and the novelty had waned, these pioneers of online content stopped updating, stopped creating.
All except for Randy Constan, AKA Peter Pan.
Kudos, Randy, you give hope to every man-child that wants nothing more than to prance around in satin fineries, extolling the virtues of dreaming, staying young and, inevitably, Jesus. [ms]
Visit Peter here
KJ lost his right arm in a tragic motorcycle accident, kinda like that guy from Def Leppard, only less british. Anyway, surgeons toiled tirelessly to reattach his arm, but alas, it was a lost cause. Luckily, this company in Seattle was engaged in a research grant to create a robot that could play the drums. In the prototypes, each arm contained a quartz metronome, accurate to the nanosecond, which allowed the robots to play consistently and flawlessly for hours on end. After much negotiation, a robotic right arm was grafted to KJ’s shoulder bone, giving him the ability to play with cyborg-like precision. This is the result. [ms]
editor’s note: after an embarassingly small amount of research, it was discovered that KJ is really just a bomb-ass drummer
Being a rock star is all about going that extra mile for the fans. Frequently it seems that extra mile involves massive pyrotechnic displays supervised by stringy-haired heshers who say things like, “Dude, this is going to be so rad!” [ms]
This guy has feel coming out of every orifice. [ms]
No, like puppets, not stupid people. [ms]
Zookeeper answers with candor and honesty.
From a 70’s sex education film entitled “Am I Normal?- A story about male puberty”
Watch and learn. [ms]
