The Stoner Boys got stoned in Stoner Woods, and that was all that anybody figured they would ever do — including the Stoner Boys.
Missy Churmblo would become a psychologist, Joe Maglietti would take over his father’s construction business, and the Stoner Boys would smoke dope in Stoner Woods. Maybe they’d get some poor girl knocked up, work menial jobs, and do a little jail time, just like all the other white trash kids from the Sunset Trailer Park. Not much else was likely to come of them, though.
No, the truth wasn’t pretty, but it was the natural progression…
Read: Part 1
The boys expected to find the hospital in chaos, with nurses and doctors rushing frantically around Grady. Instead, they walked into sterile white indifference. Grady, pale but otherwise looking the same as always, smiled at them from his bed.
Grady’s mother was there too, her enormous girth swallowing the chair beneath her as she held her son’s hand. She turned to smile at the boys, tears glimmering in her eyes.
“I knew you’d be here,” she said. “Such good friends.”
The boys squirmed, awkwardly picking at their clothes or running hands through their hair. Compliments were foreign…
12:05 AM, January 1, 1967.
Lower Haight neighborhood, San Francisco, California.
The Beatles’ “Tomorrow Never Knows” emanates from a dilapidated house on an otherwise quiet street. The house’s windows glow with soft orange light. Darkness bathes the front porch. A match flame pops into life and illuminates the face of a prostitute named Sunshine as she lights a cigarette while standing on the porch steps.
Sunshine takes a drag, arches her back against the railing and exhales languidly into the night air. She can see herself perfectly in her mind’s eye, the way the curves of her body silhouette against…
I like people that don’t fit neatly into any tribe. Even more than that, I like people that don’t fit into any tribe at all. So it was that I found myself interested in the work of one Fullmetal Magdalene: crypto anarchist, gnostic seeker, free thinker, and artist.
Her art combines crypto currency, the occult, esoterica, spirituality, comic book/manga culture, Gnostic Christianity, music, sex, and other things that I can’t name because I can’t identify. The sexual aspect is important to her work and is part of her personal artist statement.
The sexuality in her art is shameless, philosophical, exploitative…
Grady lay in bed with the window open next to him so that he could hear the laughter of the audience, the good-humored heckles, and the cheers. Only after these sounds faded did he finally take the pain meds.
He let the relief sink in as he watched a half moon burning over silhouetted treetops. Crickets chirped at the wood’s edge and the faint scent of smoldering cedar wafted in on every breeze. …
First showing was three days later, a Saturday, with the film being projected on the white cinderblock wall of Butchie’s Garage, which sat at the end of the road leading into the Sunset.
Residents began filing down two hours before show time. Some brought lawn chairs for seats. Others dropped the tailgates of their pickup trucks and sat on those. …
Three words: Oiled-up biceps
After a long, painful selection process, we here at Scavenger have finally selected our #1 greatest workout song of all time.
By “we,” of course, we mean “I,” editor, writer, interviewer, manager Jeff Suwak (I’ve created multiple identities in my head to accommodate my various roles — the resulting infighting and backbiting have been terrible, but at the end of the day we are a family and prefer to think of ourselves as such).
Our choice will have our offices swarming with haters. So be it. …
This piece is for those who have seen Sebastián Silva’s “Crystal Fairy and the Magical Cactus.” Unless you’ve seen the film, this piece won’t much mean to you.
Crystal Fairy and the Magical Cactus is on my top-50 favorite films list. I’ve seen it multiple times and with multiple people. The end of the film has always left me with two contemplations that, for whatever reason, I found myself coming back to regularly over the past couple of weeks. One is rather simple, the other less so.
Jamie doesn’t get enough credit. I don’t know if this was by director…
Inspired by Ricky Bascom’s “Lil Boy”
Damn I feel good today.
I only slept about 3.5 hours but woke up feeling juiced up and ready to get some words down, to work, to create. Lots of stuff feeding the morning buzz, but most of all I think it’s this young guy named Ricky Bascom and his buddies.
No, I’m not joking.
I found his stuff last night on the Twitter feed of Hotep Jesus. The energy of Bascom and his friends had me laughing like a slack-jawed yokel at a greased pig contest.
The whole world is going crazy right…