Oh Australia, what were you thinking? A bar in Perth in the Land of the Criminals kicked a guy out for having a mullet haircut. A bouncer at Print Hall’s rooftop bar told mullet-wearer David Hoogland that “his kind” wasn’t welcome at the establishment — and it’s all because of his business in the front, party in the back haircut. Hoogland says he was asked leave because of his hair.
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Dear French Guy Who Buried Himself In A Hole For A Week,
Sometimes life gets really overwhelming, and I want to just, I don’t know, bury myself in a hole with a stack of books and not talk to anyone for a week! Yeah! That’s what I want to do! Do you think that’s crazy? Of course you don’t, because you did exactly that a couple weeks ago, when you descended into a two-foot wide hole dug under a Marseilles bookstore, equipped only with water, freeze-dried food, a headlamp, and some books, and didn’t emerge for seven days. That’s pretty much my life dream. I feel like you and I would have a lot in common. Maybe next time we can share your hole?
That sounds a bit dirtier than I intended, but hey, whatever floats your boat, mon amour.
Dear Vegetable Musician,
Hello. Nice to meet you. I don’t know your name, but I came across this video of you playing your celery nose flute and developed an instantaneous crush. Some people think celery is a boring vegetable. You’ve proved them wrong! Celery has so much untapped potential (it goes great with peanut butter or hummus!) and the fact that you understand that, speaks to your character and creativity. Not to mention your musical talent. Vegetable Musician, I stalked you on YouTube and discovered that you also play the cucumber trumpet, the carrot pan-flute, the broccoli ocarina, the red pepper panpipe, the sweet potato slide whistle and many, many more. OMG. Seriously! You are a one-man vegetable band! A musical fruituoso! Now all you need is a singer. Keep reading »
Dear Tattooed Poet,
You got the following poem tattooed on your shoulder: “Roses are red/ My name is Dave/ This poem makes no sense/ Microwave.” Obviously you have a way with words and a keen eye for art. I wrote you a little response poem that I hope you’ll enjoy:
Violets are blue
My name is Winona
I like your poem tattoo
It gave me a bonah.
Care to escort me to the tattoo parlor and make this official?
Dear Mark Welch,
I would like to start by saying that even if no one else does, I believe you. I’ve had that happen to me before — where I woke up and the same stuff that I dreamed happened to me in real life. I was in college, around you age, when it happened. It’s was really freaky. I thought I was losing my mind. Granted, I wasn’t smoking synthetic pot before bed (I was smoking real pot) nor did I call 911 to report the incident, but I can understand why you did. I don’t think you were trying to be cute or funny. You were scared. Keep reading »
Dear Sergey Pakhomov aka The Pasta Artist,
Six years ago you were working on an ad campaign for a Russian macaroni company and were struck by divine inspiration: what if you built models of various objects using macaroni? So you did, and the ad campaign fizzled, but your life was forever changed. Now you build all kinds of things using all different kinds of pasta: spaghetti motorcycles with rotelle wheels, bi-planes with lasagna wings, and a whole pasta town complete with a linguini windmill and penne playground.
So why am I contacting you today? Well, I’m something of an amateur pasta artist myself. A beautiful pan of cheesy rigatoni speaks to my heart and soul in a much more profound way than the Sistine Chapel ever could. I don’t care for oil paintings unless the oil is olive and the canvas is cannelloni. Your work truly moves me. What do you say we collaborate sometime?
Modern day Will Ferrell seems like a total blast, but college era Will Ferrell appears to have been a stone cold foxy frat boy the likes of which he would one day portray in “Old School.” Call me crazy, but I am into it. I’m don’t know what he and his brodawg are up to in this photo and I’m not sure I want to, but I do know that it takes a macho man to pull off a pair of white briefs, tube socks, and sneakers, especially with a goggle headband. Let’s go back in time and make out. [Drunken Stepfather]
Josh Androsky is a skateboarding rabbi who decided to take some mushrooms and get a little bit wasted before attending a taping of long-running game show “The Price is Right.” Miraculously, Josh was plucked out of the audience and chosen as a contestant, despite the fact that, in his words, he “lied to Drew Carey’s melting face.” Weirdly, Josh seems like the least effed up of all the “Price Is Right” contestants. [YouTube]
Dear Drunk Tourist,
You sauntered up to the Rome airport’s international terminal with a backpack and a can of beer, ready to check in for your flight. When no one showed up to help you (God, customer service these days!), you jumped over the counter and snuggled up on the baggage belt for a quick nap. This would have been a totally reasonable plan, except that baggage belt started moving, taking you deep into the secure mazes of conveyor belts within the airport while you snoozed contentedly. Who knows how far you would have gone or which corner of the world you would have been shipped to if security guards hadn’t spotted you on their x-ray monitors and plucked you out of your drunk suitcase dreams.
Listen dude, I’m not sure if it’s your laissez-faire attitude or the fact that the x-ray scan of you looks like an ultrasound photo of an adult man-baby, but I’m intrigued. What do you say next time you let me buy you a beer and we take a nap together?
I saw this Craigslist ad looking for a falconer to bring “an aggressive flying killing machine” to a 30th birthday posted on Facebook. I’m not sure if it’s for a party held by my old colleague who posted it on Facebook, or someone else, but it doesn’t matter: I want this Craigslist author to be my boyfriend. You know why? He knows what he wants. He wants someone with a “badass bird of prey, a “cool leather bird glove” and a “tiny bird helmet that the bird wears.” So few people know what they want in the world but this man is decisive.
And also, he will “understand if you weren’t comfortable letting a stranger hold an aggressive flying killing machine in my apartment.” But he hopes you are. This means he is flexible. That is also a quality we see too little of these days.
This sounds like it is going to be a bitchin’ party. I hope all his 30th birthday dreams come true. Find me, Falcon Boy. Seek me out! I’ll bring the dead mice. [Craigslist]