We went deep on this journey, and let me tell you, we have many reports from this adventure. The meteoric rise and fall of brand new Slowtimer author, Babette, meeting DJ N e Tempo, M.I.A drunk as a skunk blowing the show, the people falling off the ferry, the thunderstorms, running through Governor’s Island barracks being chased by security… it’s all here. EXCLUSIVE!!!
In the meantime check out N e Tempo’s Soundcloud mix and give up some love for LOST-IN-SOUND
Well, I was at the library today and as I stood there near the entrance trying to get my life together I caught a glimpse of something that I almost couldn’t believe. Out of the corner of my eye, there she was. The goat. As she hurriedly entered and the sliding doors automatically closed behind her I was filled with excitement and wanted to scream out “the goat!”, but since we were at the library my brain wouldn’t let the words free. I couldn’t even say them under my breath hoping she would hear me as she breezed past. I mean, what if it wasn’t her? Could you imagine if a woman was walking past someone and they called her “the goat”, and it really wasn’t “the goat”, just some poor lady who would forever wonder what flaw, what imperfection, would prompt such a comment from a total stranger? I wasn’t about to risk damaging someone’s image of themselves just to find out, but I couldn’t let it go. What if it was “the goat”? I would want to say WHUUUDDUUP!!? You know? How often do you come across a fellow Slowtimer author in real life, let alone at the library? I had to find out for real. So, I mustered up the courage to approach her and instead of asking if she was “the goat” I decided I would open with, “Do you write for a blog called Slowtimer?”
Turns out it was “the goat”, and she was there for a similar reason as me. To improve our lives using one of the most amazing things this great nation of ours ever came up with: the public library system. Word up. I am even going to take out a really interesting book I found staring at me from one of the shelves; “This Is Your Country On Drugs: The Secret History Of Getting High In America.” Purely for research purposes, of course.
We have been involved in a livestreaming, life-stream experiment over the past week… Slow Improvement (the yet to be released Slowtimer.com home improvement show) and Slowdio (the live Slowtimer.com radio show) crossed paths and exploded onto the airwaves, giving us a peek into what it is like to tackle a bathroom remodeling project from the ground up. I know watching a construction project unfold in painstaking real-time isn’t the most exciting idea for a show, but Slow Improvement really shines when the cast forgets the cameras are running. You watch, transfixed, wondering what will come out of their mouths next.
The craziest part for me was when I was “called in” on the show, while I was watching it go down. Fast forward 20 minutes… bam! I’m now in front of the cameras. It was the most interactive online experience I ever had. I witnessed pure ridiculousness… from the 2AM “Better Way” to tile the shower to the impromptu 15-Minute-Freestyle with -illy.
So, as a tribute I give to you all this little badge of honor. I think it embodies where we’re coming from, literally. It speaks to something in all of us, but we’re just not sure what.
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….
