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Vincent Price visits ‘The Dating Game,’ 1972
10.30.2014
04:18 pm

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Amusing
Television

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Vincent Price
The Dating Game


 
On October 31st, 1972, a 61-year-old Vincent Price paid a visit to the ABC game show, The Dating Game. Many notable entertainers were contestants on the show such as Karen Carpenter, Sally Field, Farrah Fawcett and Steve Martin. Dusty Springfield, Andy Kaufman, Arnold Schwarzenegger and even a serial killer made The Dating Game scene.

In case you’ve never seen the show, here’s the premise: three “eligible bachelors” (or bachelorettes) are kept behind a partition as a potential romantic prospect asks them each questions to determine who she (or in some cases he) should go out with. On this episode however, Price, who was promoting his 1972 film, Dr. Phibes Rises Again!, ran interference with the trio of single guys on behalf of the show’s contestant (who was always referred to as “Miss X”), 19-year-old actress Janit Baldwin.

The affable Price is ridiculously entertaining and in line with the Halloween theme of the show, he tweaks his questions to include subject matter just so, leaving the bachelors to respond in ways that are totally cringeworthy (which was business as usual on this program, by the way). Apologies for the quality of the video but it was just too good not to share!
 

Posted by Cherrybomb | Discussion
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Why DID Bad Brains frontman H.R. duct-tape himself to a chair?
10.30.2014
09:11 am

Topics:
Amusing
Music
Punk

Tags:
Bad Brains
H.R.


H.R. smoking the good stuff with a Brooke Shields look-alike (or is it really her?)
 
Bad Brains bassist Darryl Jennifer recounts the tale of one of the band’s more memorable shows… This happened sometime in the 80s when frontman H.R. had himself duct-taped to a chair while the band performed on stage. According to Darryl, no one knew in the band exactly why H.R. had decided to do this. They were a little surprised themselves:

So I know this one night my big brother H.R. seemed a little uncomfortable. And you know I, you know everyone knows H.R. can be eccentric, you know? But he seemed a little uncomfortable. So I was like ‘What’s up?’ and he said, ‘I’m good, I’m good.’”

snip~

I see my man sat down on stage and on top of that my man had one of the techs come out and duct-tape him to the chair. So you know, I figure it’s Bad Brains. Even me I’m in the band and I’m like what happens must be some wild punk shit I don’t even know about.

Annnnd, the rest is history, folks. Watch this amusing animated tale below to find out the real reason why H.R. had himself duct-taped to a chair.

 
Via The World’s Best Ever

Posted by Tara McGinley | Discussion
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Hugs for nugs: Dress your baby as a pot leaf for Halloween!
10.30.2014
08:40 am

Topics:
Amusing

Tags:
marijuana
Halloween
pot
babies


 
Brandsonsale are selling an infant sized pot leaf Halloween costume.

This Halloween dress up your baby in our most outrageous costume yet! The baby marijuana plant costume is just the right combo of cute and edgy that is sure to get stares and laughs from everyone.

I don’t know about “edgy”—isn’t weed how you’re supposed round those edges off?

Of course, the predictable pearl-clutching from the predictable prigs is happening. I won’t link to Fox News here, but the dumb people on one their crappy shows had an inane discussion about it to an ultimately boring end. I say whatever, it’s one day out of the year and it’s not like anyone’s naming their child “Dank Sticky.” At least I hope no one is. And most people dress their kids to reflect their own tastes and project their own values—no baby has ever chosen to wear a Ramones onesie.

Brandsonsale have a full line of pot-related costumes for adults, too: There’s the basic-bro pot leaf:
 

 
They also offer the hilarious-to-no-one-I-would-trust “baked potato”...
 

 
...and the totally racist Rasta outfit. Tell me that’s not blackface—at least in spirit if not in actual fact—but the baby pot leaf, people complain about. Because priorities.
 

 

Posted by Ron Kretsch | Discussion
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Watch the hilarious operatic tale of one man’s relapse into his teen goth self
10.29.2014
10:55 am

Topics:
Amusing

Tags:
goth


 
As a punk, my disdain for goths was challenged upon moving to NYC, where I was forced to admit some of the looks were pretty cool (I blame Hot Topic-style mall gothery for my bad first impression). A year ago, I lost all claim to goth derision when I found myself searching Etsy for pretty cameo jewelry and nearly had an identity crisis wondering if I was a “late-in-life-goth.” (Have no fear, I simply had a dress that required some Victorian flair.) I think a large portion of goth-mockery is rooted in inane subculture competitiveness, but I think the perception of goths as humorless doesn’t exactly help.

Nothing could be further from the truth! Take this comic operetta and short film from New York performance artist Joseph Keckler; a working stiff longs for his days as a teen goth and suddenly finds himself descended into the blackness of his youth (and all the poorer for it—it’s not a look for the broke). The video is really funny of course, but you also have to admire Keckler’s composition and performance. He wrote and sang the entire number, and it’s really technically impressive, not to mention… kind of beautiful? That German dialect! That romantic bass! It’s enough to seduce anyone towards the darkside! Bela Lugosi lives!
 

 
Via VICE

Posted by Amber Frost | Discussion
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Handy tips from the 1970s on how to survive a nuclear attack

prosurbmb111.jpg
 
For some inexcusable reason, I have merged the first time I saw one of these Protect & Survive infommercials with watching kids TV on a Saturday or summer holiday morning. Let’s say, I saw them after re-runs of The Banana Splits and before My White Horses. I’m no doubt wrong but that’s how I like to remember these “chilling” ads instructing the plucky British nation on how best to “protect and survive” a nuclear attack. Fat chance, I hear you say, and I would certainly agree—as the government’s suggestion of some quick DIY (taking doors off their hinges to form a makeshift shelter) and stockpiling food, water and medical supplies within the allotted four minute warning before a nuclear attack was highly optimistic.

Twenty of these short Protect and Survive films were made in 1975, and were certainly screened at some point during that decade and during the 1980s. I know because I recall thinking it very unfortunate that my parents had glass doors throughout their house, which meant any unhinging or using of these doors as possible shelter was utterly pointless. It struck me then that such makeshift bunkers made from leaning a door against a wall and reinforcing it with furniture, suitcases, bedding and, er, sandbags (as if anyone had these lying around) were in reality coffins, graveyards for the millions of English, Scots and Welsh who would have been wiped out in an attack.

Of course the UK government knew this as they had secretly run a mock nuclear attack to estimate the actual number of dead and injured. Called “Operation Square Leg,” the exercise assumed that “131 nuclear weapons would fall on Britain with a total yield of 205 megatons: 69 ground burst; 62 air burst.” This would leave 29 million dead or 53% of the population; with 7 million or 12% seriously injured; and 19 million or 35% of the population remaining as “short-term survivors.” In other words, we were all fucking doomed.

Still, perhaps those in charge hoped these little films would offer a tiny glimmer of hope to those who thought the government knew best, or in my case some scary Saturday morning entertainment. The voice-over for these infomercials was supplied by Patrick Allen—-who was also at this time presenting a host of adverts selling timber-framed homes to first-time buyers. Some of his lines from these films were re-recorded and inserted into “Two Tribes” by Frankie Goes to Hollywood notably:

“Mine is the last voice you will ever hear. Do not be alarmed.”

 

Posted by Paul Gallagher | Discussion
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‘Charles Bukowski, Jeff Spicoli & Lester Bangs on PCP’: Origins of ‘The Derek Tape’ revealed!


 

“Hey, did you get the boot off?”

“Dude, mission accomplished! Gnarly.”


Greetings exchanged, so begins “The Derek Tape,” a fascinating phone conversation between a very relaxed record store clerk (Kurt) and a full-time hesher (Derek) in Los Angeles circa 1992. If it sounds familiar, you’ve likely heard it before. Derek does most of the talking (there’s a good reason it’s not called “The Kurt Tape”), much of which concerns Derek’s reasons for wanting to put his neighbor, Terry, in the hospital, and his intention to do just that. Once the conversation turns to metal lore, though, and Derek’s enthusiasm kicks into high gear, it is hard not to get carried away with him as he talks about the important things in life: the occult significance of Morbid Angel guitarist Trey Azagthoth’s name; the distinction between “tripping” and “flipping” on acid; the relative merits of guitarists Robin Trower, David Gilmour, Jimmy Page, and Ritchie Blackmore; and the comparative belief systems of Deicide, Mercyful Fate, Morbid Angel and the Grateful Dead. If only going to the theater could be more like listening to this.

Once jealously guarded and traded among initiates, the tape has taken on a life of its own on the internet. Recently, it’s even been serialized and animated, as you can see at the bottom of this post. I had an inkling that my friend Sean Kelly—whose great old band, Tight Bro’s From Way Back When, was named after a memorable phrase of Derek’s—might be able to give me a clue to the origins of this tape. As it turns out, Sean knows more about the origins of the recording than anyone on Earth, other than Derek and Kurt themselves.
 

Bassist Sean Kelly, second from left

When did you first hear this tape? How did you get a copy?

I moved to LA in the early 90s chasing the obligatory teenage rock stardom dream and ended up playing in a band with a bunch of misfit weirdo drug casualties, one of whom was the now legendary “Kurt” (his name really IS Kurt, but he’s become so mythical to me at this point that quotation marks seem necessary). Shortly thereafter, and after one too many life-threateningly self-destructive episodes, I found myself transplanted to San Francisco, but still remained in contact with Kurt. On one very fateful occasion he came up from LA for a visit and happened to bring along a rare gem that will henceforth and forever be known as “The Derek Tape.”

Kurt was a great collector of the funny and absurd—weird underground art, obscure music, prank call tapes, etc.—but I don’t think he realized how special the gift he created actually was. He just offhandedly gave me the tape and said “Oh hey, I recorded this—you should listen to it sometime—it’s pretty funny.” I don’t recall how long it took me to sit down and listen to it, but suffice to say, and using Derek parlance, “I was blown away just like everyone in the whole fuckin’ place was blown away.” I promptly proceeded to play it for the friends of mine who I thought would appreciate it and only one, really, my comrade Jason Traeger, realized the brilliance of it; most people that heard it were repulsed by what at first aural glance was the insane violent rant of a lunatic, and missed the mostly unintended, but genuine genius of this epic, absurd, comic, tragedy.

I don’t remember anyone but Jason and I listening to it in SF—it was very much our own private little thing that we obsessed over—but we DID make copies of the tape and gave it to the many bands that used to crash on our floors with a “Here’s a little something for you to listen to in the van on the rest of your tour,” and no explanation other than that. I’ve oftentimes been bewildered by how many people know about this thing (I certainly thought I had been keeping it in the family), but I suppose that’s how it got disseminated—the Johnny Appleseed-ism of touring punk bands! In fact, two of my oldest and best friends, Jon Quittner and David Wilcox, who along with Jason and I are equal custodians of the tape (I’d go as far as to call us scholars at this point—ha!), met each other and forged our friendships from different parts of the country over our mutual and rabid appreciation of the tape. I suppose on a smaller level my former band’s name, which is from a line in the tape, helped spread it around too. Kurt, as far as I can tell, had nothing to do with it getting spread around other than happening to put it my filthy mitts almost 25 years ago.
 

 
What else can you tell me about the scenario? They’re talking about the LA area.

Kurt used to work in a record store somewhere in LA (can’t remember where or which one but I’m sure it’s gone now) and Derek was a frequent customer, obviously, obsessed with death, black, and Satanic metal. Kurt was a collector of the weird and absurd and realized how amazing this guy’s obsession was with the genre. He hatched a plan to get him on the phone to talk about his favorite bands and record the conversation clandestinely to add to his collection of oddities. He had no idea that he was going to get the epic tale that ended up unfolding. You can even hear him on the tape periodically trying to get Derek back on the subject of music, not being fully aware of the magically maniacal saga that that was being hurled at him on the other end of the phone. That all being said, I never got the impression, despite the questionable ethics of recording someone without their knowledge, that Kurt was taking advantage of Derek or trying to make fun of him—I think he was genuinely fascinated by Derek’s passion and certainly never intended for it to become what it has—that appears to be entirely my fault! I’ve actually been in the room where it was recorded. Kurt was living there before I moved to SF. It’s in an apartment complex near Franklin and Cahuenga—I never drive by it without thinking that it all happened there!
 

 
Can you shed any light on these two characters?

Well, as far as Derek goes, I only know as much about him as anyone who’s listened to the recording does! Total and utter enigma. Kurt told me very little about Derek, mostly because I haven’t seen him since the day he gave me the tape and I never got the chance to follow up! As far as Kurt goes, I can tell you he was a really cool, sweet guy—very talented guitar player too—who wasn’t nearly as much of a ding-dong as he appears to be on the tape. I’m pretty sure that his conversational demeanor was dictated by a combination of him consciously being a foil to Derek’s madness, and almost certainly being profoundly and epically stoned at the time of the call!
 

 
What makes this thing so fascinating?

Oh man, where do I begin? I feel like this tape could be the source of a university-level psychology, sociology, or Underground Art of the American 20th century class! I could write a fucking dissertation at this point—ha!!

To begin with, it’s an absolutely amazing voyeuristic—and maddeningly finite—slice of the life of a completely unknown, quasi-brilliant American underground character, who basically lets us in on the epic saga of his insane life and all of his passions in a mere 45 minutes. While I stated above that I know nothing about Derek, which is strictly factual, I actually feel like I know EVERYTHING about him through his willingness to reveal so much in this conversation. Hearing this for me was like discovering an unknown mean streets of Los Angeles anti-hero who is the combination of Charles Bukowski, Jeff Spicoli, and Lester Bangs on a heavy dose of PCP. A true folk art discovery in my book. His use—or, more accurately perhaps, abuse—of the English language is extraordinary too. He absolutely creates his own lexicon through the sheer passion for what he’s expressing. I can’t even begin to tell you how many Derek-isms are part of my everyday conversation.

Most people default to the brilliance of this tape being his monologues on the ultimate truths about his favorite Satanic bands and the greatest guitar performances he’s witnessed, which are undeniably and endearingly hilarious, but I think what ultimately makes this recording so fascinating and enduring is the real life tragedy, pain, and suffering of a person struggling to get by in an unforgiving environment on display here, who in the end finds reprieve in his obsessive passion for the music he loves, and thank all the evil gods of the Necronomicon, he just happens to be an unintentional comic genius while delivering this LSD-fueled slice of profane pulp non-fiction!

While this is clearly Derek’s tour de force, it’s also undeniable how perfect a foil Kurt is for the proceedings. His peaceful, stoned counterpoint to Derek’s rabid verbal violence keeps everything in order and, most significantly, probably saved the life of the severely maligned and lazy Terry! Ha!
 

Anton LaVey and King Diamond: “tight bros from way back when”

If they’re still among us, what do you think Derek and Kurt are doing today?

Derek, again, I know absolutely nothing about, which to me makes his enigma so fascinating. It’s like he only existed on the planet for these 45 minutes and that’s all there ever was to him. For a long time I thought I wanted the back story, but now, no way. I love not knowing what he looked like, how old he is, what happened in Oklahoma City, or how he got his head wound! I would say it’s safe to assume, based only on the 45 minutes of his life that I’m aware of, that unless Derek had some sort of serious spiritual epiphany, things most likely didn’t end up too well for him. But then again, who the fuck knows!

About eight years ago I was working at Sub Pop in Seattle and, completely randomly, I heard Derek coming through the speakers of a co-worker’s computer. I was thoroughly and utterly stunned—there was no way I was aware of that could be happening—I certainly hadn’t given him the tape or even talked to anybody at SP about it, ever. Turns out WFMU in New York had gotten ahold of the tape and was streaming the death metal parts of the conversation on its website, and my buddy was listening to it online. That was the first instance I realized that it had sprouted up out of the underground, and almost simultaneously, people started contacting me inquiring about releasing it, as the word had got out that someone in Tight Bro’s From Way Back When had something to do with it and tracked me down.

Now, I’ve always felt VERY protective of the recording—it’s like a family heirloom to my friends and me—and I never intended to, and still have not attempted to, exploit it, but at the time it seemed inevitable that it was going to happen. So through the wonders of the internet, I actually tracked down Kurt after what would have been about thirteen years since the last time I had seen him, to let him know what was happening. He was living in SF at the time and doing well (walking dogs for a living, if I remember correctly) and totally blown away, to say the least, to hear from me and also to hear this very unexpected news about the tape. He was very interested in capitalizing on it, and we had a few conversations on how that might be possible and then we promptly fell out of contact again—haven’t heard from him since.

He did reveal one gem to me, though. Apparently he recorded another short conversation with Derek that the world has yet to hear, in which Derek muses on what he would say to God regarding his life if he encountered him in the afterlife:

“Well, that sucked!”

Below, the first episode of Found Magazine’s cartoon version of “The Derek Tape”:

 
And for purists like me, the original audio recording:

 

Posted by Oliver Hall | Discussion
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Nasty notes and other ‘Hate Mail’ by Mr Bingo
10.28.2014
11:06 am

Topics:
Amusing
Art

Tags:

Mr. Bingo and his Hate Mail
 

I probably started taking risks when I was ten when I went to school dressed as a girl.

 
UK artist Mr Bingo has been working in the commercial illustration industry for over a decade. In 2011 he sent a postcard to a man named Jonathan Hopkins that said “Fuck you Jonathan, fuck you and fuck your shit legs’” and Mr Bingo’s “Hate Mail” was born.

Since that fateful day, Mr Bingo (who never uses his real name in public, so I won’t be bringing it up here either) has sent more than 500 pissed off postcards to his “customers” that pay a small fee to be admonished by Mr Bingo via snail mail. So popular are the acidic communications that 100 of the artist’s favorites have been published in the 2013 book, “Hate Mail”.
 
Mr. Bingo's Hate Mail to Matt
 
Every year Mr Bingo opens up his “Hate Mail” request line for people to order a postcard to be delivered to themselves or a recipient of their choosing. According to his Twitter (highly recommend), “unless something goes wrong on the Internet”, “Hate Mail” will once again be open to the public starting on Monday, November 3rd. For now, the service which costs about forty quid (plus postage) is only available in the UK. When one of Mr Bingo’s prospective customers complained that the price for the service had gone up, Mr Bingo responded by posting the question and his response, “Fuck off you tight fisted cunt, this is still very affordable “art”.” to his FAQ page on his website. Well done, Mr Bingo. Well done.

The best of the worst of Mr Bingos’ “Hate Mail” correspondence (NSFW) follows.
 
Mr. Bingo lazer cats Hate Mail
 
Mr. Bingo You are Nothing Julian Hate Mail
 
Mr. Bingo Fuck You soup can Hate Mail
 
More after the jump…
 

Posted by Cherrybomb | Discussion
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Party People: Vintage sixties home movie of grandma and grandpa getting *shitfaced*
10.28.2014
07:58 am

Topics:
Amusing

Tags:
shitfaced
parties


 
What comes off as a long lost 1960s party scene from the film Office Space, is actually redditor’s Lesmullet husband’s silent vintage video footage of his grandparents’ “wild” party set to the tunes of Wiz Khalifa’s “Black And Yellow.”

It works.

As one redditor puts it:

“Ass grabbing, funky chicken, passing the bottle, grandpa drank too much, embarrassed grandma, half naked guy hugging people, milf doing sexy dance, chick rocking electric guitar, random kid, funny hats. Yep… They know how to party.”

Yep, they’re experts!

 
via reddit

Posted by Tara McGinley | Discussion
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KISS rocks out on ‘The Paul Lynde Halloween Special,’ 1976
10.28.2014
07:02 am

Topics:
Amusing
Music
Television

Tags:
Halloween
KISS
Paul Lynde


 
Nothing better exemplifies the “everything but the kitchen sink” entertainment mentality of the 1970s than “The Paul Lynde Halloween Special,” which includes the following components: swishy comedian Paul Lynde, Margaret Hamilton as the Wicked Witch, Florence Henderson, Billy Bartie, Tim Conway, “Pinky” Tuscadero (no, not “Leather”), Donny and Marie, Betty White, Sid & Marty Krofft’s Witchiepoo, and ... KISS!
 

 
In addition to being Samatha’s campy Uncle Arthur on Bewitched, and supplying the voice for Templeton the Rat in Charlotte’s Web, Lynde was best known for being the “center square” on the Hollywood Squares, from which perch he would uncork as many double entendres as the format could sustain. He was gay and didn’t apparently seem to care if anyone knew about it, meaning that the home audience could be assumed to be pretty much clueless on the matter. (At the wrap party for Bye Bye Birdie early in his career, Lynde quipped in a toast, “Well, I guess I’m the only one here who doesn’t want to fuck Ann-Margret.”) In any case his jokes are super corny—only masochists will want to sit through the whole thing.
 

Ace Frehley hanging out with Billy Bartie
 
Apparently this was the first prime-time network appearance for KISS—anyone know?

Here’s the part you want to see—KISS doing “Detroit Rock City”:

 
The entire special after the jump…

Posted by Martin Schneider | Discussion
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Music videos are so out, 80s-tastic DeLorean commercials are in!
10.27.2014
07:42 am

Topics:
Amusing
Music

Tags:
cars
DeLorean


 
Are you a Norwegian electronic music enthusiast in the market for a 1981 DeLorean DMC-12? Look no further, my friend, because Norski producer/DJ Todd Terje (a kingpin of Norwegian EDM, apparently) is ready to sell you a fine futurist automobile with his new song, “DeLorean Dynamite.” The video itself is a real, actual commercial, for a real, actual 1981 DeLorean DMC-12, that you can really, actually purchase... provided you’re Norway-adjacent.

How did this project come about? From Terje’s press release:

This is a real classified for the sale of Frank’s Delorean. Frank was kind enough to let Terje use the DeLorean for his live visuals. Eventually, Frank decided it was time to sell his prized automobile, so in return for his generosity, Terje offered his music and Terje’s collaborator, Espen Friberg (the director who made the “Leisure Suit Preben” video) offered to make him a video to help him sell it. The result is this bizarre advertisement/music video, which is currently sitting somewhere on Norway’s Craigslist. The email address above is real. SERIOUS INQUIRIES ONLY, PLEASE.

In keeping with DeLorean aesthetics, Terje’s video has all the production value of an 80’s home video and it is absolutely hypnotic. For the full effect, I highly suggest turning on the subtitles—listening to DeLorean specs listed off in Norwegian over electronic music, while watching the car itself cruise through Scandinavian scenery… well, it puts one in a kind of meditative state (and the car appears to be in great condition). Prospective buyers are encouraged to contact Frank at delorean_dynamite@hotmail.com. Remember, serious inquiries only—don’t jerk Frank around.
 

Posted by Amber Frost | Discussion
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