Drew Landry: Cajun Heartbreaker

Drew Landry, crawfisher turned oil field worker, steals the show the first Town Hall meeting of the Presidential Oil Commission. In the song he pleads about just wanting a job and how hard it is to make a living. Well Drew, I don't t'ink you need to worry 'bout dat no mo!

VIA Gawker

UPDATED: Well it turns out he's more of a musician than he is a crawfisher/oil rig worker. This doesn't make him any less of a songwriter/singer for a cause, but it does make the story a little less genuine when it seems he might have been using the platform to actually get himself a record deal and not JUST for the people of the Gulf Coast. I'm still gonna check out his music though. The song i'm listening to right now is about the WWF and the chorus is about the Junk Yard Dog, so it can't be all that bad. The Dirty Cajuns

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The Side Door At Beacon Restaurant : Pop-Up Intro Menu

Saw this yesterday around lunch time and was highly intrigued. I hung around long enough and she gave a me a five dollar coupon. That left me with a bill of 5 bucks for a high quality lunch. Chips (Wise All Natural Potato Chips), Soda (Sprite or Coke) and Tax Included! Click through for menu, photos and all the other scrumptious details.



This is the Beacon at Night. The Side Door @ the Beacon is pretty self explanatory to me, but in case you need further explanation it's actually to the right side of the door. Oh and it's really only half a door which kind of looks like a window.



This is what they actually look like...but they taste much better than they look. The hotdog was stellar, two all beef dogs crammed into a po-boy roll. The sweet relish was the perfect balance of sweet and sour. I didn't taste the parmesan though. Although, I didn't really give much time to savor the flavors cause it was so damn good I ate the thing it almost one fell swoop.

Don't get me wrong, the burger was great too. I had heard there were probablems with not letting the patty wrest and you ended up with a bun that was covered in blood. Not so today. It was all in all delicious and a steal for even $10 dollars in Midtown.

CLICK MENU BELOW TO ENLARGE.



UPDATED:

Went back again today. Note to self. Don't show up at the supposed "opening time" of 11:30. Didn't open til 12pm. I guess the dogs had been sitting in the heater since the half. Buns were rock hard. I don't mind eating withe a knif and a fork, but come on. Still will go back next week though. 12:30 seems the most opportune time. Or call. The numbers on the menu above. I still can't figure what's all in the relish, though. Answers in the comments would be appreciated. (chips and pickle and keyboard in picture below do not come with...)








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SAY YOU GOT A CASE OF THE HIVS

Satan as imagined by the creator of The California Raisins.

This is the from the movie The Adventures of Mark Twain (1986). It is a claymation version that surrounds the characters from his writings and general life musings from the author. In a particular stirring clip (after the jump)we see the children meeting Satan who goes on to explain his meaning of...well...life. I guess. Pretty scary stuff seeing as the age of the viewer was probably 5 - 8 years old.


Yeah, well. I'm fucked up. This video is a bag of coke thrown to Lindsey Lohan in after party. I know this video is old but someone threw a bag of coke to me at a Lohan afterparty. It was large and in charge. So, I'm still dealing with it. I found the full movie here, but I keep forgetting to link to it. Sorry for being so disconnected, but I am SOOO disconnectected. I'm sure that is a proper use of a comma but a horrible use of spelling. so eat a dik wit aids.






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Bollywood's Chiranjeevi Would Kick Chuck Norris's Ass

Warning: Many horses and extras were violently injured in the making of this awesome chase scene.

Ask an American what the best chase scene in cinematic history and they say bullshit like Bullit! Or The Man With Golden Gun! If they are a badass they'll say, Smokey and the Bandit. Ask any Indian (dots, not arrows...) or anyone thats a true movie expert and they will tell you it's Alluda Majaka starring India's version of Bruce Lee, Chuck Norris, Stallone and Schwarzenegger and Jean Claude Van Damme all rolled into one. Chiranjeevi! I mean, just look at this dude!

This a doctor smoking a cigarette with a gun who can kick Chuck Norris's ass.

Click thru for the most badass chase scene you will ever see. As well as a TRACTOR FIGHT. That is all.




PopTen

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Tyra Banks is Batshit Crazy

I have always hated this woman but now I have a reason. More »

Cigarettes

I used to know this girl. I'd go to her place to have a beer, the toilet and whatnot. She'd meet me down at the front after the respective phone call with a match. A match so exhausted I could smell her skin singe.

She never, ever, flinched though.

It was routine. I'd puff my cigarette twice and sit alone on the worn out couch. Worn down by pain, love and cigarette sin. I'd puff it twice more and take one long draw off the half filled glass of stale beer and we'd silence and watch the Earth move. No words, no emotion, just listen and watch.

We watched mostly through this picture frame that hung shantily on the living room wall. The futon that faced us relaxed eagerly suggesting the obvious but she and I weren't interested. The smoke filled the room and the picture changed moods letting the voices on the other side dictate the degree of aggression that was illustrated by it.

Cigarettes and empty ashtrays later we would awake from that moment we waited for. That shattering separation from reality that only that picture frame could give us. More »

KETCHUP

On Sunday morning, post Easter, Jesus had been resurrected from the dead. I was non- plussed. Not being a catholic and drinking myself into a coma on a weekly basis, I didn’t think anything of it. Instead, I bathed in the darkness of my bathroom, slowly washing away the cave of pain that surrounded my life. After partially drying myself off with a dirty towel, I dressed in random articles of clothing I found between the bath and the bed. I stumbled down the stairs to hear the vibrancy that was Bed Stuy. Bill Withers blared. Actually, that’s wrong. He can never blare, cause he can never be too loud. He reverberated. He shook the halls and the mailboxes so that bills fell from their respective places and people forgot their debts and over-arching problems. I traipsed on.

Squinting my eyes I avoided the locals and wished I would have bought a pair of shades. They are seasonal in my lifestyle. Like fans, space heaters and ramen noodles, they all come at a typical time of the month or year.

I walked into the restaurant I go to now that I don’t go to the other one and yelled out my order in Spanish and stared at the table. Still wishing I had the glasses. On it were three things. Salt, pepper, and fucking ketchup. I moved in a way that made the table shift and the ketchup bottle fell sideways. It was resting on its top. It was Heinz. The first thing I read was “only the best tomatoes for the best ketchup” and realized that this was how I was going to get her back.

I had lost my confidence years ago through a series of poor choices and accidental mistakes and had an idea. I often did. Unfortunately most were forgotten due to the loss of memory that excessive drinking often causes. I would make sure that the best tomatoes for my best ketchup would be her tomatoes. And, like Heinz, if there is any quality control, my ketchup, and therefore, her tomatoes, would be mine.

In order to do so, it would be a slow process. I’m sure mister Heinz didn’t come up with his commercially viable recipe overnight. It would take time. So in order not to rush things I decided I would think of her as muse and do one simple thing a day. Write one word.

And so i set forth to reconnect with the woman i hoped to be my muse. The sweat that came from the trying follows.

Click thru for the bullshit...

The first would be the word “hope”

Hope sounded like dope. What did that mean. I guess it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t sound like anything either.

It felt like everything, though. It felt like a birthday party. It felt like being washed ashore. It felt like coming clean from lies that kept you washed in filth.

The second word would be “despair”

It sounded like the last grains of the hourglass falling onto the ones before it.
Like the people singing the last words of happy birthday as you entered the room from coming from the bathroom.

The third word was “faith”

It was the place to you would find to spread your ashes so no one had to clean up after you anymore.

The fourth word was “jealousy”

This is the party that I wasn’t invited to where you were invited to and I hoped I could talk to you.

The fifth word is “solitude”

These are the evenings that I spend talking to myself so that I will know what to say to keep you from leaving me next time the morning comes.

The sixth word is “desire”

The emptiness I feel on a daily basis because my hunger strike is not for a noble cause, but one of selfishness. Unlike Tibet, I don’t want freedom, I only want to be chained to you.

The seventh word is “regret”

Because instead of saying I love you, I only said I’m sorry.

The eighth word is “promise”

Because I don’t have to say it if we are together forever.

The ninth word is “love”

Don’t forget that the heart not only pumps blood out, it sucks it in. Without the two actions, death is inevitable.

The tenth word is “alone”

A man that cannot enjoy his own company can’t truly enjoy the company of others. But without the company of others, his enjoyment of his company cannot be shared.

The eleventh word is “broke”

This has to be not having a quarter to call and say I love you.

The twelfth word is “walking”

Because I would do so like hazel motes with glass in my shoes to get to you.

The thirteenth word is “absolution”

All of my hopes and dreams will be washed away when you will be here in my dying days. Choking and coughing, love and my blood, never tasted so sweet.

The fourteenth word is “ran”

Past tense because it happened. Going forward because it was what I need to get to our future.

The fifteenth is “law”

As morally obligating as ‘til death do us part’ might seem, it is still not binding. However, being apart til death kills me every day.

The sixteenth is “fidelity”

Our life has had a series of rainchecks. How many days will it have to rain before I can cash them all?

The seventeenth is “child”

If I am lucky it will be a girl and it will be as beautiful as you. If I am not, it will be a boy and not be as smart as me.

The eighteenth word is "explosion"

It gets larger as the day that gets longer still only gets longer.

The nineteenth word is "TEXAS"

Cause the meaning of YES in Texas is worth more than the meaning of NO anywhere else.

The twentieth word is "replace"

Because 6 figures will never replace the 7 letters that I will miss every day.

the twentieth word is naked

because when i am seemly i am covered in ashes and hope to be surrounded by the molten lava that is you.

More to come.

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I'M HUNGRY!

The Ross Sisters singing bizarrely about potato salad and a bunch of other weird shit. More »

Juggalost

Wow. Mind Blown. Juggagenius. Watch and understand. Juggalos on Bill O'Reilly. "WTF, I'm sitting here with a painted face?" More »

Garden-Hose

I was in a Volvo leaving something that I should have stayed for. I had a guitar and a set of knives that served as forks with sharp edges. They were called knorks. You could cut ravioli and tomatoes but they were advertised as something that could cut meat.

Qvc could not help this. This was my product. I tried to sell it and failed.

I pulled the car into a slow town in Louisiana in hopes of finding an easy take on the knorks. I found nothing but rain and a church. I found solitude with a water spout that was surrounded by a garden hose. I missed my family very much. It had been days since I had bathed in cleanliness and hope. I stopped there and stepped out and washed myself naked in the rain in hopes of being whole again. I was. The parking lot was empty in the back of the church, however, the gutters were full with free water. I was clean and resting in the backseat of the car that was full of beer cans, beef jerky packages and stolen hotel shampoo bottles. These, I used under the gutter to wash myself to sleep. It was like my own shower. I went back in the car after the nature bath. I fell asleep like coma patients waking up. Click through for more, it's worth it.



The sun came and started shining in my mirror. My radio had died and light was in my eyes. I stumbled across the street to a diner I had never been to with a handful of door to door items I hoped to trade for breakfast to no avail. I had them in my pocket. I ordered pancakes and solitude and left the waitress alone. This didn’t work because when the food came I was lost. I had seen this person before next to a swimming pool at a motel in Arizona. I was sure of it. She told me quick and clean that I was getting a ticket and towed. This was strange cause I had never been here before in my goddamn fucking life. It didn’t stop then.

My wallet and my clothes and my gun was in that in that car. I needed everything. She gave me access to nothing. I knew that what was happening was not an accident. The thing that I had been escaping from had finally caught up to me here in New Orleans. There were no more Mardi Gras or churches or green garden hoses or weather reports that could save me. I was good.

I traipsed back to that church and Volvo and thanked the rain. If I tipped my head back I would drown like poultry. I didn’t. I went into the back of the car and looked for an umbrella in order to maintain my dignity.

I broke a hole in the church window and went inside. I went into the bathroom and found the toilet paper and wrapped it around the handle. 3 or 5 times. Strung it to the door. Pissed all over it and closed the door and brought it to the top of the broken window.

Then ran like hell.

I ran down the street through an alley over an overpass through a bathroom to another window that I climbed in hoping I would get away. But again, I found myself back to that car in the church parking lot,later. It had my gun, my clothes and it was the place where it rained when I arrived. It was where all the answers were reconciled during a later date.

The roof of the church was nice. The garden hose could be a rope (or a noose). The church served as a venue. I fell into the past but stepped into the future. Delusion wasn't a nightmare but a dream of the same sort:

I went to the back and climbed up the set of steps with Eve's green shackles wrapped around my neck. And as I did, I stepped gingerly up the iron necklaces that kept me bound to the excuses that were you.

I knew that I wasn’t going to make it in that town. I knew I was going to fail. I had too many things in my pockets to sell to so many people that did not want to buy them. I gave up and…

I fell down those steps before I charged up them. I ran before I lost it. When I did, I swam up those steps and life to make sure that I went forward. Face forward. Into a pool without water. Into a pool without hope. Into a parking lot with a garden hose, drowned by the greenness of the rain that came from Jesus himself. I hung myself faster than I started to tie the knot.
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