Pass the Alka-Seltzer

Ssshhhh, children. Mama’s got a headache.

I woke up in a ditch several hours ago covered in wet beaver fur and sans my wallet. Ah, Durham—you still know how to party.

So while I scramble to reassemble my shredded dignity, I’ll give you your one-day warning to get your entries in for the latest “May We Suggest” contest, which you’ll find a few posts below. Tomorrow we’ll unveil the winner, who will receive the swingin’ refigerator magnet shown at right, the only thing I managed to lift from the Stuckey’s I stumbled across in my quest for a new “Depends” to get me on the road home. How I suffer for my art…

Female genitalia joke here

So you should know by now that there’s, like, an event of some sort going on in Duke Park on Saturday night. I think it’s called the Beaver Queen Pageant.

Judging from Barry’s blog, they will be documenting it in every medium known to humankind (I think I heard the stone tablet carver is confirmed), but of course, nothing beats the satisfaction of that wet, juicy beaver up close and personal.

So bring the kids (even if they don’t get the labia laffs yet), as it promises to be a good time for all. The organizers were insane enough to get yours truly on board as a judge, and you just know that the combination of my sparkling wit, a pair of assless chaps, and a shitload of Wild Turkey are gonna make for some memorable fun. On second thought, bring the kids but keep them faaaaar away from me. I’ve been out of college for a while, but my hurling skills are still pretty impressive.

I’m also hoping that that cute cop from last year won’t be making the scene…or at least that he’ll be off duty.

ADDENDUM TO YOUR PUDENDUM: When are we going to learn to bring Ms. Pedalphile into these things earlier?? Her discovery of Beaver Liquors is a stroke of genius and should give pageant organizers (and future contestants) some good ideas for next year. At the very least I’m envisioning a great Foster Brooks-type contestant, Liquor Beaver Beaver Licker in the future—and there are plenty of other costume ideas available at said boozery:

Now, perhaps one of this year’s judges has already found said establishment-?

It takes a while to find all the hidden (and NSFW) gems on their web site, but it’s well worth it (the naked lady in the humidor is my fave—because sometimes a cigar is not just a…well, you know).

I think pageant organizers need to reward all contestants and judges with a field trip to Avon, Colorado to witness this steamy pit of beaverosity firsthand.

Found (Durham edition)

(And of course, check out the granddaddy if you haven’t already…)

Let the eagle soar

Graffiti may be gang related

Graffiti reports are on the rise around the Triangle, and I thought I’d better get this one in. There have been some spray-painted “tags” popping up downtown, and we’re not doing ourselves any favors by just “hoping the problem will go away.” These are the results of gangs, people. And it’s time we admitted it.

The “tag” at left is for a gang called “the Dox,” whose signature color is black. They’re a bunch of outside agitators known to swarm the Civic Center Plaza at regular intervals and completely obliterate all available cell phone bandwidth.

On the right is the latest iteration of the symbol for the “G-nasher$,” easily identifiable by their blue hair and seersucker bandanas. Some feel this group is more harmless, as it is more selective, rarely interacting with common folk. However, they’re well known as the “behind the scenes” power in this town. Approach at your peril.

I’m not sure what we can do about this, but when “these people” 1) just feel it’s “okay” to deface public property and 2) get away with it with impunity (the Dox tag has been there over two years now), I think we need to admit we’ve got a problem.

If this filth isn’t removed as quickly as it is in other parts of town, just think of the ramifications—these hooligans might keep congregating in the city center, or, worse yet, even start living there.

In Memory

May We Suggest…

‘Tis a dark day in Derm town. It seems that another casualty of our relentless march toward chi-chi-dom is the Liggett & Myers ciggy air tunnel.

Even though these soaring tubes have inspired creative classers in other towns, there’s no place for them in Bullsville anymore. After all, no self-respecting yuppie is gonna lay out the big money for a fancy new condo that has an appendage accusing him of being a Quality Product (or Person), so it’s gotta go.

I’m getting a little teary-eyed for the l’il guy–it will always seem like there’s a missing tooth on Main Street now. But since nature (and my commonlaw wife) abhors a vacuum, it’s time to figure out how we’re gonna fill the gap. Here’s some ideas from the ‘Shat brain trust:

Now it’s your turn, ‘Shatters! Fill up the comments with your ideas, and the winner will get an extra-fancy prize. Bonus points for anyone who links to a nice picture too…

Shameless self-delusion

Steadfast Turgidity tells the tale.

Lunchtime, East Durham

Things that vaguely terrify me

(second in a series)

(click for bigger horror)

What brings us together

Cultural Apotheosis Weekend

Just when you thought the scene around here was looking more barren than the former Heart of Durham site, just look at the explosion of “shit to do” we’ve got this weekend. No excuse for internet porn, you nerds.

Of course, tonight is the famous “THIRD FRIDAY!” “CULTURE CRAWL!” Battle of the Network Stars. But whatever you call it, there’s everything from a letterpress show at der Bull City Arts Collective to bands and poster art at the Anti-Mall (tell ‘em Ms. Pedalphile sent you) to some kinda anti-movie movie experience called WINKY from Jim “They Call Me Mello” Kellough unspooling across from the Farmer’s Market. You have been warned.

And speaking of the Farmer’s Market, if you haven’t checked it out in the new digs, well, you’re a turd. Saturday mornings they’ve got everything from greens to soap made out of god-knows-what, and they’ve even nailed the demographic perfectly by offering Central American babies too (hippiecloth onesie $39.95 extra).

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Don’t let the presence of a lot of black people scare you away from the Bimbé Cultural Arts Festival at the old Durham Bulls park on Saturday and Sunday (I know you creative classers get jittery when you’re out of your element). This year the theme is “It’s a Family Reunion,” and there will be soul, hip-hop, jazz, spoken word, and a disturblingly high number of Christian performers for a City-sponsored event, but what the hey. Crafts and village for the kiddies too.

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And if you’ve ever doubted the synergy we’re creating in Bullsville with our Cultural-Industrial Complex, look no further than the snickeringly-named Corporate Battle of the Bands (warning: most annoying web site ever) happening at the Wakky Tobakky on Saturday night. And yeah, I know it’s a charity event; shut up and let me snark already.

Rust never sleeps

(click to embiggen)

MIRACLE of LAKEWOOD

“Lynchburg will have nothing on Durham in the coming days. We have hired consultants in Guadalupe, Turin, and Lourdes to help us handle the expected pilgrimage. We can announce now that the admission charge will be in line with need.”

THE SHROUD OF DURHAM

(copyright Oakes of Mallstrippes, Inc.)

The Tulsa, Oklahoma developer revealed that “authentication will be provided by a committee selected from approved schools of religion” — the anointed couple can’t remember if the bed-sheet was an end-of-term student castoff or picked up at a local thrift store but spoke “swearing on a stack of Bibles” that the sacred object was “originally almost totally white”. “Honest — you can believe us — we believe us.” “Never mind” interjected the spokesperson for Oakes of Mallstrippes, “thread count holds the key to the holy relic’s true source — “we are sponsoring the entire cost, but it’s up to the committee to decide!”

Falwell lays a doozie

The lawyers say we can’t tell you too much now, but we can report that the Right Reverend met his maker while in the middle of a telephone interview with representatives of a certain scatalogical “Blog.”

Showing a surprising familiarity with the goings on in a sleepy college town known more for its “lacrosse” than “The Cross,” Falwell expounded at length on “positive developments” his dutiful minions have been “monitoring” in Bullsville.

“We’ve finally broken down the wall between church and bar,” he noted. “And that really has a lot of potential for converting the drunken sodomites of your town.”

“But what I’m most excited about is the upcoming Evangelical Food Revival that will be taking place on May 26. I understand they’ve moved it out of the filthy city center and into a more family-friendly venue on the outskirts of civilization,” he wheezed. “That’s brilliant thinking. May God strike me down if that isn’t the greatest ide–”

The conversation ended at that point with an abrupt “thud,” however, our dutiful scribes report that the audio tape of the conversation clearly indicates that the Pillar of Virtue’s final words were something to the effect of “Why is it so hot in here? And what am I doing in this handbasket?”