Greetings, my heavy turdies.
I've been away from Ye Olde Douchebagge Korner N' Such for quite some time now, so forgive me if my douchebaggery is substandard. So wow, like 2005... What up, sucks? Oh wait, nobody says that shit anymore except lames and your elderly Nana and her bridge club in Boca. So, anyway... How's it going? How was your year? Do you still like posters? Oh, so you got really heavy into Italo this year? That's cool. Is that a new jacket? Nice work. Uh, so.. yeah. [end of re-acquaintance segment]

Adios for now, my trolliez. I will give you the full-on douchetard when we give you the full LFOP update.

Douchebag Top Forty:

40. Creme Soda Tricky Zingers LP
39-08. Van Morrison Bang Records Contractual Obligation Demos
7. The Tomorrow People
6. Flower Travellin' Band
5. Alrune Rod
4. Terry Riley Le Secret De La Vie LP
3. "Pommel & Pilt" Theme Song
2. Vertigo Mixed CD
1. Talking Shit. I do it, you do it, we do it together. Face it, you get a little thrill out of it, you gross perv. You talk shit and then you pee in your pants a little bit. I knew it.


Hello there, my suckity-babies.
The holidays are coming up, and I want to remind you all that screen-printed concert posters make fucking excellent Christmas and Chanukah presents, for those of you who are still going through the motions as if you want to believe in an afterlife and that people love you and every gift you receive isn't just another pathetically disguised re-gift. "Here, I got you The Best of Crocodile Hunter on VHS." WTF? "Here, I got you a ladies' sweater. What are you looking at me like that for?" Posters even make a great present for babies, who can barely see anything six inches in front of their fat faces. Even though you could get a baby anything, because they wouldn't know any better, because their brain is like a Tic Tac floating in jelly, I would still really appreciate it if you bought them a poster. Because that money comes right to me.
WRONG: "Here is a precious teddy bear for a precious fat baby."
LESS WRONG: "Here's a Who Let The Dogs Out keychain, you dumb baby."
RIGHT: "Here is a poster. Don't touch."

Christmas gifts are so awesomely terrible. Someday, when and I am rich and famous, I will take a break from flying around the universe with my diamond-encrusted jetpack and buy presents for my entire family out of one shitty mail-order catalog, like, all in one shot. Something like Successories or Amway or the NPR catalog. "Here is a set of 26 cassette tapes-- the entire run of Shari Lewis & Lamb Chop. Merry Christmas. And for you, here is a 10 gallon tub of generic hand lotion." Except that doing that would barely even approach the complete and total mind-boggling randomness of actual gifts.

Adios, True Believers. I have to go take a squeege.

Douchebag Top Forty:

40. Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti The Doldrums LP
39. Marsha Hunt Woman Child LP
38. Improved Sound, LTD.
37. Floh De Cologne Tilt LP
36-05. Arby's Bacon Three Cheese Chicken Sandwich. I'm going to get one right now.
4. Top Model.
3. Hawkwind
2. Dungen Ta Det Lugnt LP
1. Savage Rose, "A Trial In Our Native Town"



Hello there and what up, my sucks?
This here is the Tour Wrap-Up edition of the Douchebag Corner. I have a lot of ground to cover, so LISTEN UP, goddamnit. But first, let me remind you to become one of America's Greatest Heroes
by signing up for our mailing list, Little Friends of The Little Friends. Our monthly update emails may be as close as some of you ever come to having a real friend, which is sad. Not that I'm going to be shedding a tear over some computer nerd who can't even step outside of his own musk-cloud long enough to touch one molecule of poonani.

The tour was awesome. I watched a buffalo scratch his balls on a rock. I spat into a gorge. My moustache, "Ch. Thighbrush XIV," won Best Moustache at Flatstock 5 (I'm pretty positive Richie Buentemps peed a little when he saw my moustache). I ate a lot of vegan slop. Yannick threw a big rock at a little rock, and the little rock broke, a maneuver that has since become known as a "Quebecois Science Experiment." A lot of things smelled just terrible. I saw some girls snort a shit-ton of coke (like a big pile) outside of the Oakland show. They bought posters, but politely refrained from using them as a coke-straw. We found out that Yannick G.'s farts fucking reek, and that he thinks it's awesome to stink like shit. In Sacramento, Yannick and Melissa tried to catch, like, five different stray cats. What is up with those dudes? I got an ear infection and spent the Sacto and Long Beach dates pretty much completely out of it and delirious. Everything anyone said to me just sounded like "Bzzzt bzzzt bzzzt." I was on the road with two guys named Yannick and no one could get their names right. It also blew people's minds that there were two people named Yannick, ever. (I've been assured that in Quebec, "Yannick" is like "Shawn" or "Jason.") People who thought they were cool pronounced it with a fake french accent, like this: YAWH-NIQUE. That's just pathetic. Seriously, dudes.

To everyone who didn't come out to one of the tour dates: What's up? Everyone was all like, "Where is that one dude?" and we were like "We don't know. We thought he was cool, but I guess we were mistaken." Then we all drew an unflattering picture of you and wiped a booger on it. True story.


Douchebag Top Forty:

40. Dorothy Ashby Afro Harping CD re-issue
39. Bloc Party live on WFMU
38. new Glass Candy demo stuff
37-07. Arby's
6. new Mouse on Mars single
5. new Smith N Hack 12"
4. Dr. Strangely Strange
3. Tetsunori Yodel & Potato Man comic
2. Gospel Zombie/Jai Agnish split 7"
1. Supertramp