Tania Shcheglova and Roman Noven are Synchrodogs, a pair of lovers who photograph all sorts of wacky shit in Ukraine. We tried to write a short bio about them, but just threw up our hands and said, “What do you do, you fucking weirdos?” This is a small portion of what they sent: “We didn’t start as a photography duo; we just fell in love, and hanging out together made ‘us.’ It was be simpler a year ago, taking pictures on the trees (hell knows why). We have no shame and are stupid enough to shoot anything strange or naked, trying to make this modern fashion area go underground—become a little bit more trashy than people are used to seeing. We have no favorite things, just favorite people.”
Nadja is a Canadian journalist who lives in Berlin and hosts ArtStars*, an internet show about artists and art and artiness. She also writes about artistic and cultural endeavors for the New York Times, the Globe and Mail, and other fine publications, which we guess makes her some sort of expert. Nadja got in touch with us out of the blue, stating she had already completed an interview with R. Crumb about a gay-marriage-themed cover he did for the New Yorker that was rejected by David Remnick for reasons unknown. Crumb was particularly enthralled with Nadja after she explained just how large her breasts are (double-Ds), going so far as to ask her to snail mail a nude photo of her to his residence in France.
See THE GAYEST STORY EVER TOLD
Tommy is our production manager, which means he oversees the printing of the very magazine you’re holding in your grubby little paws. He also has to deal with a lot of bullshit from editorial and ad sales—last-minute changes to the mock, complaints about things that have already been printed, and lots of jokes about how he looks like Adam Sandler. In fact, we were going to use a still from Billy Madison for his photo, but he got all bummed out and said, “My mom will be really upset. Please don’t do it.” So thanks Tommy’s mom, you spoiled a perfectly good joke. But we’d also like to unsarcastically thank you for one-uping us by sending in this ridiculous photo of your son as a goofball teenager. And don’t worry, your boy is doing a bang-up job.
See THIS MAGAZINE, FART-KNOCKER
John Martin was once the head of ad sales and is now our publisher. Once, while he was on a “business meeting,” two guys in the office threaded the handset of his phone through the space between the first guy’s balls and taint, and corked it right into the second guy’s butt cheeks. Then they waited for him to get on a call and emailed him a photo of the act. After a satisfying freak out, John swapped his phone out with the guy who sat next to him and resumed the call, at which point they sent him a photo of that phone running under the second guy’s sack and into the first guy’s ass. The ensuing spazz was a symphony of omnidirectional rage. John also wanted us to mention his Rolling Stones cover band but we ran out of room.
See MICK’S JAGUAR (GOOGLE IT) ON A WEDNESDAY NIGHT IN HOBOKEN
THIS MOTHERFUCKING CHAINSAW
We’re sure people who use chainsaws in their professional lives treat them very responsibly and respectfully, as tools to perform a given task. But for us, it was a real treat to hold this whirring carnage-creator in our hands. What if we just fucking revved it up and started running through the office, righting all the wrongs that are inflicted on us on a daily basis? HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT EDITORIAL NOW, AD SALES GUY? SAY WHAT YOU SAID IN THAT EMAIL TO OUR FACES, WHILE WE HOLD THIS GAS-POWERED DEATH BLADE AGAINST YOUR THIGH! Then we got ahold of ourselves and just used it as a prop for an A$AP crew album-cover shoot.
See A$AP PLAYLI$T MANIFE$TED
Employees of the Month