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Vintage LSD Anti-Drug Poster

This is a 1969 poster from Finland warning about the dangers of LSD and marijuana use, stating that the “use of narcotics results in serious consequences.” And I should say so! Grave processions? Seeing it all? That shit’s got nothing on growing flowers out of your fucking face. You know, compared to that, Meth mouth really doesn’t seem so bad — thanks for the education and perspective, guys! 

Where would we be without the world’s governments holding our hands? Shit, I don’t know, probably lost somewhere having way too much fun — and what a terrible thought that is.

Back when I was young and my parents hadn’t yet accepted that there was hardly a drop of athletic ability amidst all the blood in my veins, I spent some time touring the various frustrating, extracurricular sports teams. Soccer, basketball and flag football all saw my rein of incompetence, and I quickly learned that the bench was a great place to relax if you wanted to sit a few plays out. And thanks to what surely looked like a mild case of mental retardation whenever I was on the field, the coaches usually wanted me to sit a few out as well.

Years have passed and team sports have largely become something for people who are paid millions of dollars to catch a ball and like to kill strippers, but benches are still a good place to sit a few plays out (metaphoricwise) when you’ve been taking a beating in that game called life.

It’s basically common knowledge amongst the various elite intellectual circles that the easiest way to make something good even better is by adding Muppets. It’s pretty much hard science, actually.

If I had to be reincarnated as a Muppet, my first answer would be, obviously, “yes,” but if I had to get more specific than that I’d have no choice but to pick Doctor Teeth. What can I say? I’ve just always felt a sort of kinship with the furry little guy. And it’s no wonder why really, when you consider how much he shares in common with one of our generation’s brightest poets:

Anyway, this masterpiece should be a pretty solid way to wake up this Saturday morning. Hopefully you still have some herbal remedies left over from last night, since that’s another foolproof way to make a good thing even better. When you’ve got the green, there’s no reason to be blue.

The Gonz, street plant — photo by J. Grant Brittain

There’s a great quote from Mark Gonzales at the end of his Real to Reel part:

I’m an old man. My age has nothing to do with how much fun I have. 

If that’s true about anyone, it sure as hell would be The Gonz. Words to live by, geezers.

These semi-abstract close ups of sunsets are probably pretty boring to some people, but I am obviously not one of those people. There are those who may feel that I’m only capturing a background image without a proper subject. But to me, a sunset is a fantastic subject — always moving, always changing, always different than the last. In fact, they’re one of my (again, obviously) favorite subjects, and I’m not just saying that because I dislike almost every person I’ve ever met.

Oh smog, how boring and healthy (and therefore even more boring) the sky would be without you.

Maybe as boring as saying the word “boring” six seven times in a single post?

Or maybe… as boring as these photos?

The next time you ask yourself, “Why isn’t the third Jurassic Park movie ever taken seriously?”, instead of conjuring up the bottomless list of faults this film easily provides, you need only turn to this 18 second clip:

To be clear, just because something isn’t serious doesn’t mean it’s also not genius.

If I ever got married, I think I’d want this video looping on a huge backdrop behind the altar for the entire ceremony. You know, kind of combine the two most important moments in my life at once.

Also, please note the charming bootleg quality of the video, along with the additional laugh track provided by the camera man unable to contain himself at the end. I don’t blame you man… shit’s fucking funny.

Don’t show up to this year’s Thanksgiving festivities empty-handed! Don’t you want to be the guy everybody remembers for bringing the best bottle of wine they’ve ever had? Well, too bad, chump, not this year.

Whether you’re heading to a classy dinner party that you probably don’t belong at, or spending a few hours at some delusional hipster wine-drinking pretentiousness, and that can of King Cobra in a paper bag just isn’t going to do, 7-Eleven’s got you covered with a headache in a bottle that’ll only run you a measly $3.99!

Chardonnay-flavored Slurpees with limited-edition, vineyard-themed holographic cups coming soon.

There’s a lot to love about this animated sequence of Joey Brezinski. 

Joey Brezinski, manual to f/s 180 to switch manual to switch f/s 180 out — via Adio Footwear

1) Joey Brezinski’s manual wizardry.

2) Nice black and white photography.

3) How cool and weird the banding in the sky looks due to image compression.

Okay… so three isn’t really “a lot.” Who cares?

Joey Brezinski — via Cliche Skateboards

I always thought windows like these were pretty cool looking… but apparently there are those who disagree quite strongly.

There was an article in the New York Times a week ago about jolie laide, directly translated as “pretty-ugly”, which reflects on an age old dispute — what’s more attractive, visually perfect features or visually interesting flaws?

Jolie laide aims to jog us out of our reflexive habits of looking and assessing by embracing the aesthetic pleasures of the visually off kilter: a bump on the nose, eyes that are set too closely together, a jagged smear of a mouth… it also recognizes that behind the visceral image lies an internal life. In that sense it is a triumph of personality over physiognomy, the imposition of substance over surface. 

As I sift through a batch of mediocre photos, my side of that battle is plainly revealed. I tend towards the pretty-ugly… towards the pretty-fucking-ugly, even.

Of course, in this case “jolie laide” might largely be a nice euphemism for “very poorly lit photography,” but god damn it, it’s not my fault it gets dark at 4:30 in the afternoon now.

1. Build mini ramp.
2. Live happily ever after.

Never — and I mean never — buy a wireless mouse. They’re marketed as convenient, clutter-free and easy to use, when the reality is, they’re mostly just a money pit. How far away from your computer do you tend to use your mouse? Like… a foot and a half? How often are you going to be using your mouse at the table across the room from your computer, considering you can’t even read the monitor from that distance? Yeah. Never. Which is why you should never buy a wireless fucking mouse.

Oh, and there’s also the part about how you might as well get sponsored by Duracell if you actually plan on using one. The people at the convenience store counter are going to think you’re cracking double As open and getting high off them or making acid-spraying bombs or doing something illegal at the rate you’re going to be picking those economy size packs up.

I’ve replaced the batteries on mine three times in a month. And now I’m just going to be replacing the entire mouse with one of its prehistoric, wired ancestors. Keep the clutter, keep the money, and keep your fucking batteries for your circa-1998 discman that, oh yeah, you never use anymore because it’s the fucking future.