S P A C E C O W B O Y S

Things here in Eville are reving up for Breakfast – Kirk is on his way to the Airport to pick up friends from San Diego – Eva is here, yippie!! Neither have been to BOC and are totally psyched. My stomach is in knots – I am nervous as hell. I want to lie down and get some rest but everytime I have tried today all my mind wants to do is race about what else I need to do….. I still have to finish the final touches to my pj’s, make final revisions to the bus schedule, what am I gonna wear to the False Profit party tonite? Oh and the worst part is I have this terrible disco song thats been stuck in my head for days – Boogie oogie oogie my ass! give me some breaks!!! My heart just pounds when I think of the energy on the dance floor – the bass pulsing through your soul – all your friends are with you- the new year has just begun. the memories of past give me the chills. Everyone there wants to be there. What a way to ring in the new year 2007.

I live most of my life so far ahead of the curve that when I look in the rearview mirror the rest of the world looks like a wee little bump, but now and then I pull a Rip Van Winkle and fall asleep while the curve marches on by. Case in point: Glitch.

A few of the Space Cowboy DJs have been sharing some of their favorite glitch mixes with me, because I’ve been hearing all the kids talk about it, and I wanted to finally hear some myself. I’ve been listening to and enjoy this one Kraddy mix, that Angry and Evinrude both quite like. It’s from 2005, which is like a decade ago in internet years, but if you haven’t heard it then it’s new to you.

Here’s the link

T-shirts are like pizza and blow jobs; you really can’t get enough of ‘em. All the cool kids wear them, and the rich cool kids wear a different one every day. I love the site Threadless, which is currently playing host to a Stephen Colbert vs pirate-rock band The Decemberists, but Mrs. 8Ball tells me that I can’t buy any new shirts until I throw some of the old ones away and make some damn room. Apparently this whole t-shirt thing is a demographical flag, and many t-shirt wearing hipsters are operating under the misconception that their refusal to conform to conventional dressing standards bestows upon them some mantle of individuality. Apparently that is not so, and really they/we are just a bunch of grups.

Anyway, in order to perpetuate the t-shirt habit of our Grup friends and Grup family, we’re having a run of special shirts printed just for Breakfast of Champions. It’s disco, it’s goth, it’s hip, it’s industrial, it’s sexy, and it’s black and it’s silver. Here’s the idea:

Thanks to Space Cowboy Pootie for taking my original napkin sketch into Illustrator and making it look like something worth wearing. And thank Raver Rob when you see him at Breakfast of Champions, for agreeing to distribute the damnable things!