NEED WE REMIND YOU, THIS FRIDAY IS NATIONAL RYAN ADAMS DAY. OK — maybe not National Ryan Adams Day, but Ryan Adams is doing a free 4th of July show in Battery Park AND WE ARE PSYCHED! Why? BECAUSE RYAN ADAMS IS A DRUNK AND WE LOVE IT!

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TOO MANY BANDS, TOO LITTLE MEMORY

The last 5 days in pictures…

Above (in order): Dirty on Purpose, The Boggs, ’64 World’s Fair, Autodrone, The Twenty Twos, Rufus Wainwright.

This past weekend was the most gorgeous weather we’ve had in New York City since… uh… a long time. We spent Friday night by Chelsea Piers at the kick-off for Bike Summer. So beautiful. The sun set, and the music started playing, and you could see the bright lights of New Jersey (is that a term?) in the background as charter boats circled around Manhattan…


We spent Saturday dinner at a Eurotrash Asian fusion joint. (Teriyaki disappointing!!!) We spotted three young children on Razor scooters vandalize a pay phone and then violently rip off a help number for an anger management help line.

Later while air conditioners were being installed we witnessed The Stills on MTV for Rolling Stone’s “10 to Watch in 2003.” Cried. Watched Pretty Woman.

Then we went to Tiswas. We, along with Ms. Liv Tyler, watched The Twenty Twos rock. The lead singer looks like a mini-Gina Gershon (incredibly beautiful), and the other two ladies (and lad) aren’t too shabby either. And they sound GREAT. Style + Spunk + Good Sound = Success. Pfffttt to Rolling Stone’s ones to watch in 2003… because big things were predicted for The Stills back in February… so in a six month advance to a glossy mag near you, The Twenty Twos will be the new cover girls of 2003/2004. Move over Sahara Hotnights, these ladies (and gentleman!!) are H-O-T… and they’re American… and from New York. Hey, does Joan Jett know about them yet? The Meow Mix crowd might want to get on this one.

After the Twenty Twos finished, TISWAS TURNED INTO A CAVERNOUS HOLE. Where have all the kids gone from Tiswas? We haven’t been in a while, but JESUS there was NO ONE THERE. Like zero people. Big empty space. It was sort of horrifying. May be due to good weather, people wanting to be outdoors, in the park, making babies, house parties, the Coral Room, The Hole, etc etc etc. Very weird! Left Tiswas to go find the party. Went to sleep instead.

We spent Sunday DE-PALING in Central Park, and caught Gay Canada Day. We saw lots of Canadians and lots of gays… and as Lawrence mentioned to us, it was kinda difficult to tell the difference. We saw Sarah Slean, The Dears (pretty good! You’d be so proud of us Miss Kate!), Daniel Lanois (20 seconds into his first song we screamed out to our party with horror in our voice, “Guys, is this JESUS ROCK?”), and of course, the poster boy for Gay Canada Day, the marvelous Rufus Wainwright. Rufus Rufus Rufus. WE LOVE, L-O-V-E RUFUS WAINWRIGHT. LOVE. He messed up during “Poses,” he played “California,” “Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk,” play two new songs (one called “11:11”), and did an encore of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” with mom Kate McGarrigle (NOT Kate Wainwright as the Summerstage woman called her).

So fab. Great weather = great weekend. Keep up the good work, God!

Also major props to our friends at Sony for sending over the new Beyonce album STAT. YOU MADE US HAPPY x10… DANGEROUSLY IN LOVE WITH BEYONCE ARE WE!

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Albert Hammond Jr. is on Friendster, according to the New York Post… so is Josh from “The Amazing Race”… whoever the heck that is.

Shooting with a SX-70.

Liz Phair fights back against a bad New York Times review with the story of Chicken Little. Thanks for the heads up Beat Royalty and Eddy.

The Times does a loooong piece on the genre named SCREAMO (that’s screaming + emo).

I’m a bird…wheeeeeeeee!

Very true.

The Happy Monday’s Bez does a dance number with The Rapture at Glastonbury!

Headline should read Big Brother housemates stunned by frosted makeup.

“The White Stripes make my lady parts happy.”

HARD GLITTER IS BACK!

Soviet Panda has loads of Enon/Interpol pictures up.

Music of the moment: Parachutes, A Rush of Blood to the Head, Coldplay; s/t, Rufus Wainwright; Hail to the Thief, Radiohead; Dangerously in Love, Beyonce

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Kraftwerk back with “Tour de France 2003.”

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“Q: I got this girl I met on the Internet naked — she had flab, and I never want to go out with her again. What should I do?” Dategirl: “You’re a jerk. Die.”

Special education teacher starts “Tard Blog.” Thanks Josh!

“Does your teen know the latest fashion trends? Do they have extensive knowledge about skateboards? Do they like video games?…They might turn into a drug addict.”

More in Craiglist: “Looking for experienced trucker hat artists to work at Coney Island”, “Who’s that hot girl in Park Slope walking with a cane?”; “To the girl I see on the L train every day, sorry about getting a bus boner when you sat next to me.”

In case it gets flagged and taken off, here’s our hero, Bus Boner Boy:

Dear morning commute train ride girl,


————————————————————–

Reply to: anon-12915392@craigslist.org

Date: 2003-06-27, 7:16AM

Dear morning commute train ride girl,
Allow me to explain what happened this morning at approximately 8:15 AM on the Manhattan bound L train. I have been riding this train for some time now, and like you, I am usually in the same car every morning. I know you have noticed me before today, and up until this little incident we have maintained a pleasant riding relationship.



This morning I was lucky enough to get a seat and sure enough as people got off you found yourself seated next to me. We have been in this situation before and it was only common courtesy to exchange greetings.



There we were, riding along, minding our own business when suddenly it happened. It is something that has happened to me every now and then since the 6th grade. I cannot explain this phenomenon nor am I quick to share its existence with others, but I know I am not alone. It is something that happens to guys, and it usually happens during early morning hours, although it is not surprising to find it happening at other times as well. The one key ingredient is that it must take place in a moving object and more often than not in a mode of public transportation such as a bus or train. I am of course talking about the dreaded “bus boner”.



The name bus boner is a term coined in junior high but it is also known by many other names. The Break of Dawn Hard On, Morning Commute Salute, AM Stick Up, Banana for Breakfast etc. By the way just so you know I wasn’t thinking about sex with you or anyone else for that matter, for the bus boner comes without warning.



I started to panic, which is exactly what you don’t want to do in this situation, and my tight suit pants only made matters worse. I calm down, for it is not too late to ward off an erection. I close my eyes and now I am cutting grass. I imagine myself on a baseball field cutting grass. This is what I do. I concentrate on keeping the lines straight, carefully weaving them into a beautiful pattern. And then it happens. I jerk the wheel of the mower to avoid running over 2 beautiful naked lesbians making out on the freshly cut grass. Damn It.



At this point it was very obvious that I was aroused. I thought about saying something like “Hey that’s not a big boner in my pants.” And just playing it off like it was cool, but it wasn’t. I wanted to maneuver it into a less offensive position but that would have required touching it and that would have probably been worse.



Then you looked down and away and back again just to make sure this was a boner you were looking at. Then you slid down the seat to distance yourself from what you obviously thought was disgusting. You got off at your stop but paused momentarily just long enough to give me a dirty look.



Well I just want to say I’m not sorry. I am only a man. I wish you could see past this and not hold it against me. I want a second chance. Who knows maybe we would have hit it off and you could tell our grandkids about how you met grandpa on the subway and he had a big boner and it was soooo funny. So see you on the train Monday. Hopefully.


Sincerely,

Guy with the boner

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You heard it here first… now you hear it on Craigslist: “Someone’s selling ‘I f*cked Jack White’ t-shirts.”

More in Craigslist: “To the dude that was screaming stuff at hipsters on the L train: ‘That was my sister!’“; “To the guy who used to work at Kim’s on St. Mark’s… I’m stalking you.”; “I’m headed to Thompkins Square Park and I’m not wearing underwear… Will you be my missed connection?”; “Why can’t I get a date to the Wilco/Sonic Youth show?”

Demi and Ashton Kutcher is an elaborate episode of Punk’d.

Mizrahi goes high and low at the same time.

Summer in New York is mini land.

Solange Knowles to join Destiny’s Child?

Check out photos of the No No Gnomes, Dirty on Purpose, Awek, and The Boggs at ON THE MOON MUSIC.

We like Catherine Pita’s site. No reason, just linkage.

Amazing look at designer’s workspaces. Link from Travelers Diagram.

Sondre Lerche gallery up.

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Blogger’s let us back on. WooH!

Last night we repped for Jinners and went to her On the Moon fete @ Luxx. (Yes, we know…Williamsburg.) Counted 5 trucker hats but think we actually knew some of the people wearing them, so no one make fun. (Even we sported one in a daring feet on Long Island this past weekend.) Saw the No No Gnomes, Dirty on Purpose, Awek, and The Boggs. We think we remember good times.



ASCAP tins filled with super-mints were sitting on the table (along w/ OtM.com pins) and someone wanted us to throw all of the mints in the tin (about 30) in our mouth all at once. “Is this a bet?” we enquired, unable to ever resist dares that don’t include bodily functions or blood (self-humiliation is our strong point – we’ve got no shame). “Yes,” they responded. “What will you give us if we do it?” “Something good.” So we did it, and at first we were like “This is nothing. This is way easy.” Then about 2 minutes later when all the mints were getting into that gross pasty consistency we were trying not to puke all over ourselves. Our challenger suggested we spit the remaining pulp into a cup but we said “No! THAT’S CHEATING!” We kinda staggered around after that, not feeling so hot.

Then a mini-doberman barked at us all night long and peed on the floor. Bitch.

Things are kinda bleary now as a matter of a fact… but before we go, gotta say: The Fever’s EP, “Pink on Pink” is available at fine music agents NOW! Go get it. Dance to “Ladyfingers.”

Great interview with Jesse Pearson of VICE magazine. Link from Gawker.

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On Craigslist: “Guy screaming at hipsters on the L train last night had good points, but dude, calm down.”

Our own personal shout out: 4/5 downtown from 42nd Street @ 6:17pm yesterday. Dude sitting by door wearing black and white trucker hat backwards, tshirt, baggy jeans, black sneakers with elaborate velcro/laces: We were staring at you, we made eye contact… PROBABLY BECAUSE YOU WERE SUCKING ON BLINKING PACIFIER, YOU IDIOT. In case you didn’t get the memo, THE SUBWAY ISN’T A RAVE. You deserve a punch in the face.

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Who’s hotter? Ashanti or Beyonce?

Paris Hilton tries to tan herself black for the BET Awards.

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