Here it is. We couldn’t resist. Our Cousin is going to put
these on t-shirts, with the animated gif and everything.
Seriously. He has this new flexithermal mutating ink
heat transfer process. And I finally realize that the true
blessing in all this is that we will become filthy rich off
the “Snookie’d” merchandise money machine.
We got the market cornered.
Sometimes the most extraordinary things happen, and it’s at those moments that you wish you had a video camera to capture the precious story because something gets lost in the telling. Some things are so far over the top that telling the story will not do them justice. Other times, people may think you’re pulling a “D.B.” and embellishing the story to serve your own ends. Maybe you want to appear cooler, tougher, or smarter than you might had the person “been there”.
Other times you might think you are able to predict the outcome of an event based upon the amalgam of situational ingredients. There is a line that exists when filming in public, and unfortunately you don’t know where that line is until you’ve crossed it. It is different for every situation due to the variables involved. Do the people being filmed want to be on camera? Did they have a bad day? Are they doing something illegal and can’t afford to have their illicit conduct immortalized on film? There are only two options when the wandering eye of the lens fixes on you. One: Ham it up for the camera! (ie. Waaaazzzzzzup????!!) Two: Fight or Flight and end the show.
I wish you all could have been with us last weekend, as Slowtimer authors Andrew Top-Hat, Joey Dew, and myself, Jimmy4Real, headed out for a night of fun and adventure on the mean streets of Philadelphia, PA. The night started off fabulous. Joey Dew treated us to some serious slow cookin’ with some down home tasty gumbo. I was impressed to say the least. With nothing more that a solitary shark poster on the wall of his new apartment, an old camping pot, and some plastic cutlery, Mr. Dew was able to pull off some top notch cuisine. No lie.
We headed out to the World Cafe, Philly, to see Gene Ween perform solo. He sat perched on a bar stool in his socks, vulnerable, with nothing more than an acoustic guitar to entertain us. And entertain us he did. For nearly two hours he performed for the attentive crowd, tossing in rare gems like “Eye to the Sky”, and “So Long Jerry”. It was amazing. If you ever head down to the World Cafe and see Slowtimer stickers everywhere, you’ll know it was from that very night.
In a simple twist of fate, one of the stickers wound up affixed to the bumper of a girl who we quickly found out was a true Slowtimer in her own right. Missy Moist. With a name like that there has to be a story, right? Initially, my dirty mind jumped right to, “Oh, porn star…”, but I was foolishly overlooking the reference. Turns out she knows the Ween boys and had been crowned with the title by none other than Mickey Moist himself. If you’ve never heard of the Moist Boyz, you definitely need to check them out. Missy Moist was kind enough to give us a lift down some back alleys, entertaining us all the way. The highlight for me was when she reached out singing the lyrics to “I Can’t Put My Finger On It”, and we realized she was missing a digit! She’s the real deal, and I encourage you to check out her channel on YouTube. I especially enjoyed the original number titled, “Scent From Below”, by Missy Moist.
The night was getting better and better, and I couldn’t have anticipated what was about to happen after Missy dropped us off at RED SKY BAR, a local hip and trendy nightclub on Market Street in Philadelphia. I know some clubs are kind of exclusive, and have an air of elitism, but I always attributed that to clever marketing. Little did I know that @ RED SKY PHILLY they take their exclusiveness very seriously. Some locals told us that it was like, “a cult where there are no rules and anything goes”. Apparently they were right, because they served Top-Hat a “Grade A” beatdown, sending him straight to the pavement with no warning. The guy that attacked him was a bouncer with over a dozen facial piercings, a bald head, and missing neck. He was a soldier of fortune, risking his job, reputation, and freedom to protect the sanctity of Red Sky Lounge’s cult. He didn’t want anyone disrespecting the place by filming or mocking the fact that we weren’t allowed into a stupid bar because Top-Hat had emerald green shoes.
I will break you.
There we were, standing outside Red Sky Bar, disgusted that this guy let in the girls we were with and then stopped us in our tracks. It was then I decided to do a “Slowtimer Report” to document us getting discriminated against because of our shoes. The bouncer, decided to put an end to our actions by using brute force. He was obviously following orders from upper management because as soon as Top-Hat hit the ground, over half a dozen guys in dark suits appeared out of nowhere screaming, “Stay on the ground motherfucker!!” Somehow the pinhead bouncer disarmed Top-Hat of his phone which he was using to stream the whole event in real-time. Why didn’t we call the cops? Don’t ask me, everyone I have talked to has called me a moron for not calling the cops. I know we could have collected a hefty sum of loot from this unprovoked attack and could then live the Slowtimer lifestyle we always dreamed of. Oh, well. Since he took the blow to the face I figured it was his call. I just hate being poor. Not to mention, the footage when the police arrive is always priceless.
Slowtimer Reports. For Always and For Real. Even if we get punched in the face….
Moving pretty slow on the posts this year… I envisioned myself coming out of the gates posting like a madman, all sorts of posts. Here we are on nine, ten and I am postless.
Even though I wish I was as productive as the ideas that are constantly flashing through my mind, I’ll never give up. I’m a Slowtimer, for always and for real…
Snoop Dog and the Big Eighties Hair Singers, like totally 80s. Jersey Hair.
Yo Yo Yo SLOWTIMER RAPS!
top-Hat is one creative mutha effer, and I just have to give him mad props for all his work thus far. It’s been hard fun. The fact that he created an album and put it all together professional-like still blows my mind. If you haven’t yet, check it out… it’s called Boostrpak. Chweetbox, homey.
Well, here it is… the innaugural edition of the much anticipated 15 minute freestyle podcast. When top-Hat came to me with the idea of the 15 minute freestyle podcast, I nearly shit myself. Just kidding, I said that for emphasis, but I was psyched for real. The idea was he would just spin a bunch of different music of his choice and just let it roll for 15 straight. I had free range to do whatever I wanted and could just unleash my verbal diarrhea with no recourse. We’ve been doing shit like this for years and it’s just something that we have genuine fun doing. For some cosmic reason we have this ability to bounce ideas off each other in real-time and sometimes we create some funny crazy shit we never thought existed. Obviously though, it’s not all gold records. So we took a crack at it to see what would happen, and let the tape roll. You could be the judge if you have the patience to sit through it.
One of the gems that came out of this weeks episode was the diatribe on big 80’s hair. It made me wonder, “Is the magic still alive?” The answer is, of course, on Facebook. I must also give props to the founder. God damn, god damn… and stay tuned for the scoop on the flew the coop troupe.
*UPDATE* WE’RE STILL FIGURING OUT HOW TO UPLOAD A HUGE AS FILE, BUT THOUGHT YOU WOULD LIKE THE VISUALS, SO I POSTED IT ANYWAY
