I just have to say that reading the Russian Issue really reinforced my belief that even if your motives aren't the most altruistic, the outcome is still powerful.
It's part of a tea-table set my mother's father built for her when she was my son's age. We had to refinish it recently, losing the original decals that Grandad applied in 1948, so I painted up a bunch of cels like the one you see here.
This is a compilation of basically everything Giant's ever done. Him and Scott Campbell from Saved are the best sources for tattoo ideas in the whole world. There, I said it.
This is a group of 16-year-old quadruplets that I know. They were born and raised in Williamsburg, where they go to a private school.
This contraption allows me to dip my nib just inches from my drawing, thereby avoiding an exhausting reach of a foot or so waaaay over to the side table.
Listen, I don't really like to read about chicks puking or starving themselves or whatever. Why would I? It's not pleasant. You may as well just print an "article" about a guy dropping a bowling ball on a woman's foot.
I should start this off by mentioning that I generally consider writing to publications, companies, or other abstract entities the exclusive province of dumbshits and an all-around waste of time.
If you're a guy in high school and completely surrounded by jocks and dogmatic straight-edgers, it's fine to take a year or two off to dabble in acid and not be stressed out all the time.
A hundred years ago all Russians wore these primitive-looking straw slippers made by peasants in Belarus. They look like Steve Martin's "Cruel Shoes," but holy shit are they comfortable. They feel like you're putting your feet into vaginas.
This game expertly preys on the fantasies of all devoted gamers. No, we don't specifically want to be black-ops guys with ninja clothes and guns from the future and shit.
There was a time I was way over black-and-white photography. Now I seek it out and feel relieved when I am looking at it, like, "Ah, that's nice." Color photos were starting to burn my eyes.
A few weeks ago we were laughing at our buddy Ryan for claiming that ever since he started wearing matching tighty-whities and T-shirts he can't stop getting laid. It's like a guy's version of lingerie.
Some of the worst books ever written are those by "former" gangsters or football hooligans about their shitty, pointless lives.
Grabbing lunch every day on a cop's salary (STARTS at $34,970) is not easy, especially in New York City. Remember all those transit workers who went on strike? Half of them make more than us. And no, we don't eat for free.
I've just spent the past three days kneeling on my bed, staring at the screen, and frantically banging my head as I "shredded" my way through such venerable hits as "Higher Ground" (Chili Peps version, natch), "Iron Man," "I Wanna Be Sedated," and "Sharp…
A little over a year ago, we ran an article in which we pitted a friend of ours against some cockroaches (it ended with several of their heads in his mouth-remember?).
Breakfast in the Feds is served from 6 AM to 7 AM and ranges from coffee cake to pancakes to bear claws to egg-and-cheese bagels to cinnamon rolls to waffles.
I've been saying for years that you assholes just sit around your house and pull your stories from the internet—thanks for getting careless and proving me fucking right.
One of the biggest problems in the gay community (besides the Silent but Deadly "killer of millions") is their lack of vitamin C. In short, they refuse to take it into their bodies.
We are usually against necrophilia, but if there is one corpse that deserves to have slow, magical love made to it, it's John Belushi's. He represents a golden era of comedy celebrity, and the world will never see the likes of him again.
On August 28, 1999, the Bureau of Prisons adopted the Ensign Amendment, putting in place statutory restrictions requiring return of commercially published information or material that is sexually explicit or features nudity.
A lot of times when people bring up the Gross Jar with somebody from the magazine, they think they're being super clever by saying stuff like, "Man, what if something's alive in there" all sarcastically.
If you want to know right off the bat whether or not I recommend this game, the answer is yes, OK? God. I have a few reservations, but go ahead and buy the fucker now.
After years of getting bullied by the French, English Montrealers are shoving the Quebec flag up their asses and taking to the streets. It's the most political fashion has been since Yankees fans started balling up Red Sox shirts and stuffing them in thei…