A new one by yours truly over at HuffPost:

I’m as happy as the next person to see the underused adjective, frothy, have a resurgence. Too bad it’s due to Rick Santorum’s strong showing in Tuesday’s Iowa straw poll. Before he fizzles, here’s a stroll down memory lane revisiting some of the frothiest excrement that’s passed through his lips.

On Gays in the Military Who Threaten the Sanctity of Showers
“They’re in close quarters, they live with people, they obviously shower with people.”

On How Sucky It Is to Wear a Condom
“One of the things I will talk about, that no president has talked about before, is I think the dangers of contraception in this country. It’s not okay. It’s a license to do things in a sexual realm that is counter to how things are supposed to be.”

Read it all.

10. Frank Fairfield, Out on the Open West

9. Wilco, The Whole Love

8. Toro Y Moi, Underneath the Pine

7. The Antlers, Burst Apart

6. tUnE-yArDs, w h o k i l l

5. Destroyer, Kaputt

4. Kurt Vile, Smoke Ring For My Halo

3. The Decemberists, The King is Dead

2. Gillian Welch, The Harrow & The Harvest

1. Real Estate, Days

A new one by yours truly over at The Awl.

I’ve been addicted to Sun Araw lately. Here’s my favorite track off of Beach Head:

CATEGORY: Goofy + Buddies & Gal Pals
FILM: Sex Pot
YEAR: 2009
NETFLIX SUMMARY: “[A] raunchy comedy about two wannabe Don Juans who have no luck with the ladies. That is, until the pair happens upon a stash of pot that the honeys find an irresistible turn-on. If breast-baring babes and killer weed are among your interests, then this sex- and smoke-filled romp is the film for you.”
HELPFUL USER REVIEW: “Any movie that’s cool with public masturbation is cool by me… Expect bizarre misconceptions of pot and stoners. A lot of little things (coitus with a donut, a girl rubbing gorilla dung on her chest, the fact that the car on the poster is never in the movie) make this one a favorite of mine.”

Read it all over at The Awl.

A new one by yours truly over at The Huffington Post:

Republican Congressman Joe Wilson agrees that the Democratic initiative of mixed seating isn’t enough. He says that in light of the tragedy in Tucson, lawmakers need to diffuse their divisive rhetoric.

“Instead of shouting ‘you lie’ when the president addresses Obamacare,” said Wilson, “I will yell out something more sensitive like: ‘you articulate an unsubstantiated conclusion to a complicated issue to which I have a differing opinion and to which I want to find common ground.’

Sen. John McCain, who will be sitting with Democratic colleague Sen. Mark Udall on Tuesday, told Face the Nation that conservatives should not feel pressured to stand and cheer.

“When the president says something I disagree with, I plan on rising slightly out of my chair and tilting my torso forward at a 45 degree angle into a position that is neither standing or sitting. Instead of clapping, I’ll click my teeth together,” said McCain.

Read it all.

It’s playoff season. If you hate sports as much as I do, but hate missing out on the gluttony, I’ve got a new piece for you on The Awl:

With the NFL playoffs underway, multitudes of jock-averse women and effeminate, girlie men (like me) find themselves facing a challenging predicament over the next couple of weeks. On one hand, forgoing a “Millionaire Matchmaker” marathon on Bravo to watch a playoff game at a sports bar seems excruciating. Still, missing out on the camaraderie and, more importantly, the gluttony of the playoffs is even more upsetting. After all, nothing’s more fun than gorging oneself on well-prepared wings, burgers and quality beer, activities which can make any sporting event—even basebal!—entertaining.

The question, of course, is where can New Yorkers go to make the experience bearable. Those who are disinclined to jerseys, vomit, beer pong and getting their asses beat, should obviously steer clear of Nevada Smiths, the Pourhouse and the other frat houses that make up Third Avenue’s bro-row. Especially since there are plenty of superior alternatives. Granted, there’s no way to avoid the crowds or the meatheads when a big game is on, but here are a few establishments worth checking out for those among us more interested in the food and the beer than the homoerotic opera known as the NFL.

Find out where to go over at The Awl.

I interviewed the Humanimal for Vice:

If you’re one of the few who saw Guy Ritchie’s latest film, RocknRolla, you may recall a scene where a Chechnyan thug chases Gerard Butler through a tunnel. The pursuer in question is a strikingly buff 34-year-old Russian-born Londoner named Alex Kovas, a model/actor who may be more familiar to you licking his “paws” in head-to-toe Cheetah bodypaint. Though RocknRolla is his biggest mainstream acting break, Alex Kovas has been thrilling online audiences for years as The Humanimal. To date, over 700,000 YouTube viewers have watched Kovas transform himself into Dalmations, unicorns, zebras, and dozens of other creatures using an impressively detailed mix of bodypaint and prosthetics. Reactions to this “art project” range from awe to amusement to disgust:

22tus says:
MY SEARCH IS OVER , I HAVE FINALLY FOUND THE MOST DISTURBING THING ON THE INTERNET!

severin24 says:
YOU are my hero. I love people who take self-expression into art.

wollygogles says:
This is the kind of shit you get up to when you’re long-term unemployed and left alone in the house for too long. Your girlfriend leaves for work at 7am. You get out of bed at 1pm. By 2pm you’re already sick of watching Jeremy Kyle abuse the poor on TV–so you explore the house–and happen upon your GF’s make-up bag and then BOOM! You’re outside recording yourself and wadda you know …you’re a fucking Deer!

Adipocerate says:
Brilliant? Yes. Inspired? Yes. Creepy as hell? Verily. As all art should be.

MrTsBastardChild says:
I’d like to have sex with that deer.

Read the rest at Vice Magazine: THE HUMANIMAL ISN’T IN IT FOR THE KICKS.

As crazy as it seems now, when I was a freshman in high school I was convinced that my life was going to end, healthy and unadulterated, sometime before December 31st 1988. Of course it’s common for sensitive teens to consider their mortality during those tumultuous years when the hormones start to kick in. But I was different. While other kids pondered death in the conventional fashion—that is, contemplating suicide while listening to the Smiths’ “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now”—I came to terms with my mortality the old fashioned way. I learned about it in church.

Read it all.

15. Sam Amidon: I See The Sign
14. Julian Lynch: Mare
13. Lower Dens: Twin-Hand Movement
12. Wild Nothing: Gemini
11. LCD Soundsystem: This Is Happening
10. James Blake: CMYK/Klavierwerke EPs
9. Sleigh Bells: Treats
8. Sun Araw: On Patrol
7. Deerhunter: Halcyon Digest
6. Arcade Fire: The Suburbs

5. Toro y Moi: Causers of This

4. The Tallest Man On Earth: The Wild Hunt

3. Beach House: Teen Dream

2. Joanna Newsom: Have One On Me

1. Kanye West: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy