Archive for October, 2010

we here at the offices of casual friday are mourning a great personal loss- one of many in what has amounted to the summer and early fall of our discontent, however we would like to thank you, our loyal and lovely readers for weathering the storm which as amounted to our collective lives over the past few months.

while we here at casual friday aren’t large subscribers to the sorcery that is the portents of the stars, we cannot help but feel that we have had some extremely fucking bad astrology working strongly against us. perhaps an evil eye was cast upon us. perhaps the driver of the car we flipped off in april was actually a great doer of dark arts and took our passive aggressive hand jive in an unflattering way. or maybe we’ve been burning the wrong colored candles for far to long…

whatever the case, things have been retrograding and all in mercury- if you catch our drift.

thus this weekend, on the highest of dark holy days, we plan on conducting multiple seances, sacrifices, and exorcisms in hopes of shedding these evil wraiths who have taken to calling us “friend”. naturally, all of the aforementioned events will be taking place over the graves of the both the black dahlia and mac dre to ensure that the right spirits hear our pleas. this ghost party will, of course, be at the illustrious mountain view cemetery- our home away from home.

feel free to join. don’t talk to any strangers though, this is a time where bad things, hell creatures, and lonely spirits move fast and light and yearn for someone to call their own.

dear readers, we don’t want to come off as a “don’t do it donna” type, but we suggest you yeild on the side of caution in any dealings with anyone or thing wanting your blood, your breath, or your very being.


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into the soil of our doubts
sowing seeds of deception
in patterns of behavior
in the shifting sands of numbers
moving beneath our feet

changing the truths, facts
something which should be immutable
new information coming
beyond the last hour

interpretations written, conveyed
seeking different understanding
nothings known generally
the public unawares

raising concerns within us
a history of doubt growing
whether there is thought in these
or if innocence prevails
some frustrations almost palpable

“sowing the seeds of deception” by raymond foss

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dude, killer party this saturday over at the east bay rats little hidey-hole. rager starts at around 8pm, with a $5 cover. pirate punx picked the bands and we here at casual friday can testify that cycloptopus shreads, so we can only assume the same of the rest.

naturally fights will be going on in the boxing ring out back. if you forget your costume, you can always hop in the ring and get an instant constume of someone who came in first, or second, in a fist fight. do it, we will love you more than we currently do for it.

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oh my gawwwwd. bill clinton, patron saint of work place blow jobs and inhale-ability challenged former president of the united states of whatever has admitted that during his tenure as preseident he lost the nuke launch codes. lets just repeat that and let it set in, bill clinton lost the fucking nuke launch codes. for months. in 1998. these revelations are brought to us by a memoir put out by one general hugh shelton, a former chairman of the joint (ha!) chiefs of staff under (ha!) bill clinton.

shelton sums up the problem as being “a big deal- a gargantuan deal” to which we here at the offices of casual friday say no fucking kidding. according to sheldon, bill didn’t cop up to losing the digits right away, first he stated that the codes were upstairs… which strikes us as being a little more casual that we are comfortable with. following a big group lookie-loo, billy “finally confessed that he in fact misplaced them. he couldn’t recall when he had last seen them”.

we here at casual friday are under psychic assault of million questions like angry crows are swarming our overly indulged mind. questions such as: were these codes written on a cocktail napkin in lipstick? where were these codes found? how long were they missing?

now, no one is perfect, and we’ve all lost things in our lives- cars in parking lots, friends, sunglasses, our mind. however we here feel that when an individual is elected into the office of president, it is with the express hope, and one might say responsibility, that they are above losing critically important things. all we’ve got to say is this: party fail bill, big fucking party fail.

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we here at causal friday are a frequenter of the backstage and the vip areas at many of the more suck-my-dick type concert venues in the bay area- which many hipsters, dealers, and groupies can testify is a lot more difficult than it sounds. while we cannot disclose exact specifics, suffice to say, we are more often that not, that asshole that gets into major shows free and then have the happy privilege of an all-access pass or, at least, the ability to cool our heels in the vip room.

we are slaves to the belief that wisdom can be acquired anywhere, so some back stage lessons we’ve learned: often the people you want to talk to for the good stories are the roadies, tour catering rules, stepping on cords should be avoided, and that often large older dudes with furry dogs back stage are often in charge of and worth more than you will ever be.

chug all the hater-ade you choose, but we here at casual friday are benevolent, if anything, and would like to share the fruits of our good fortune with you, our esteemed readers. “how?” you ask, well, after much meditation on the subject, we’ve decided to attack this in the form of a step by step instructional that we are entitling “casual friday’s guide how to be that dick”.

lesson one

how did we our vip reality become such? well, several factors are at work here in this equation, and we are going to only touch on one for this lesson, the basic tenant that a lot rides on who one knows. as the beastie boys said: “i’ve got friends in high places that are keeping me high”. a more applicable statement to our personal situation is such: we’ve got friends in mid-level places that are keeping us relevant and we do a fine job on our own of keeping ourselves high.

how does one meet these critical, kind mid-level people? well, sleeping around is a quick way to do it, however the results tend to be a little so-so at best. another good option is to just fucking become a very regular. we here at causal friday have been lurking around venues, playing and putting on shows for a considerable period of time. basically since the dinosaurs ruled the earth. we’ve met a lot of people who put on shows, own venues, or just generally work in that amorphous thing called the “music bizz”. pay attention to the things happening around you and try to remember names…

so there you go our sweet grasshoppers- work with what you’ve got. we’re not advocating sucking dick willynilly- because ultimately bjs are a very unlikely to get you to the steaming core of the vip room, however, the ball is in your court.

let the sagacity wash over you. we’ll see you on the other side of the silk ropes.

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so from the looks of things, the new york gubernatorial elections debate last night was the place to be. this year new york city has a real bevy of insanity in the running, but amongst all of the emotional and social train wrecks is one, jimmy mcmillian, 64, of the “rent is 2 damn high” party who really stood out as the new crown prince of the fucking weird.

mcmillian’s party, rent is 2 damn high, basically stands for that- rent being to high and that being a damn problem. granted, he does not offer any real resolutions to the problem, from the looks of his web page, however we think that it is probably a key-note issue he would tackle with unique zeal.

we spent an awesome, and illuminating, few moments pursuing the breathless thing which is mcmillian’s campaign website (http://www.jimmymcmillan.org). it has a list of items that we can only assume to be a broad range of “issues” he is concerned with. one such issue being stated simply as “transgender”. According to the site, mcmillian states that transgender is “not gay” and is due to the “the medical community has been choosing who is male and who is female, this attitude has got to change”. amazing.

when asked about gay marriage, mcmillian also stated his stance was he’d “let a person marry a shoe” if that was their wish. a baffling statement, however at this early hour of the day, we are going to elect to interoperate it as a pro-gay stance, though we really have nothing else to back it up with.

as an interesting side note, jimmy also gives a shout out to his dentist on his website, crediting her with the good condition of his smile.

now to the nuts and bolts, mcmillian is a former postal employee and vietnam veteran. mcmillian wears gloves all of the time, pays rent, and has a huge mustache which he calls his “moneymaker”. the wallstreet journal reported today that mcmillian’s campaign war chest contains a whopping $26.09.

surprisingly, this isn’t mcmillian’s first go at politics, mcmillian ran for mayor of new york city in 2005. we here at casual friday have no idea how we missed this nut bag the first time around, suffice to say in 2005 we were probably more interested in beer bongs than we were in new york politics.

it was during this election that mcmillian gifted himself with some skeletons for his political closet. these specters take the form of ill-uttered phrases about “jewish people are responsible for the rent being 2 damn high problem”. we here at casual friday are very obviously against that sentence in every way, shape and form, and apparently mcmillian has begun to see the light and is now publicly recanting that statement like a modern-day latimer. which is a good, however, you know, some things you can’t un-say, especially when you are running for mayor, or governor, of new york. it is likely this, and several other things, will ultimately be the undoing of  jimmy mcmillian’s prospects as governor of new york.

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well, the sf chronicle once again proves, when the going gets slow in the news biz, then it is high time to riffle up another zodiac killer story.

the latest zodiac-based conspiracy theory comes from former homicide detective, john cameron, who hails from who-fucking-cares, montana.

mr. cameron is reported to have recently sent his police buddies in multiple counties, including san frandisco, as well as our esteemed friends at the chronicle a 207 page document with “hundreds of exhibits”. apparently this extravagant display of obsession demonstrates that the zodiac killer is in fact  mr. edward wayne edwards (a stage name if we’ve ever heard one). mr. edwards, in the words of the fine folks at the sf chron, is “alive and unwell” in an ohio prison serving time for two murders in 1977. according to the cameron theory, edwards toured the country killing folks until caught in 1977 through a sophisticated use of  aliases and false birth certificates, which really doesn’t sound all that cutting edge, even by 70s crime standards, but there you have it. according to the sf cops, they have yet to receive cameron’s tome, but no doubt await it with fervored anticipation.

other than the almost clock-like regularity of every two years someone reporting they believe their step-father was the zodiac, not much further to report on this front…

anyhow we remain dedicated and compelled by civic duty to keep you cats posted on the latest news on the zodiac killer front and remain ever vigilant on behalf of you and yours. 

further, mr. cameron, and all other conspiracy therorist, send your novels our way. we’ve got nothing but time and an open mind.

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