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Well Done Mr. West

VK — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 21:03:58 +0000

I mean it’s obvious he read my post on rocking the grey suit (Here)

It’s so rock star, now that’s Power. Speaking of, this video is hands down amazing

Chasing Heroes

VK — Thu, 01 Jul 2010 13:12:22 +0000

I’ll be fully back and recovered from vacation next week. Lately I’ve been think about what inspires me to blog. The fact that there are writers and there are storytellers and I obviously like to put myself in the second group. But this past weekend at sipping on a cold one at Myrtle Beach I finished reading Blood Meridian or the Evening Redness in the West and had my brain rocked. If McCarthy is the Jay Z of the literary world, many would consider The Road his Blueprint after Operah jumped her own couch for it. To me Blood Meridian is fucking Reasonable Doubt.

The dude simply put every American author that came before him in a mass grave with the first page.

See the Child. He is pale and thin, he wears a thin and ragged linen shirt. He stokes the scullery fire. Outside lie dark turned fields with rags of snow and darker woods beyond that harbor yet a few last wolves. His folk are known for hewers of wood and drawers of water but in truth his father has been a schoolmaster. He lies in drink, he quotes from poets whose names are now lost. The boy crouches by the fire and watches him.

Night of your birth. Thirty-three. The Leonids they were called. God how the stars did fall. I looked for blackness, holes in the heavens. The Dipper stove.

The mother dead these fourteen years did incubate in her own bosom the creature who would carry her off. The father never speaks her name, the child does not know it. He has a sister in this world he will not see again. He watches, pale and unwashed. He can neither read or write and in him broods already a taste for mindless violence. All history present in that visage, the child the father of the man.

Now that’s how you start a tale filled with death, blood and awesome western violence . McCarthy you are a God. Be back recharged with stories next Tuesday.

Mad Skillz

VK — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 15:46:29 +0000

Every couple of years music critics half to anoint someone as the next Bob Dylan the way every couple of years an NBA prospect is proclaimed the Next Michael Jordan. In both cases 99% of the time the individual either doesn’t live up to the hype or folds under the pressure of the comparison. But this dude right here, gets straight sick with the acoustic guitar. Even though his Swedish Kristian Matsson going under the moniker The Talles Man on Earth puts chills in my spine and I’m simply amazed by his lyrical and playing skills.

People usually ask what I’m listening to this summer. My list is Gaslight Anthem’s American slang, Black Key’s Brother, Drake Thank me later and everything by The Tallest Man on Earth. The last song here kills it.

Secret Garden Video Series: The Tallest Man on Earth from hoovesontheturf (sarahana) on Vimeo.

WOW 2

VK — Thu, 03 Jun 2010 15:15:30 +0000

Craziest Video of the year….

How To Destroy Angels: The Space in Between [HD] from How To Destroy Angels on Vimeo.

VK Vicky Cristina DC anything is possible prt 2

VK — Wed, 02 Jun 2010 16:54:22 +0000

I’m on 66 trying not to speed or let the excitement of the situation take over me. A slight panic kicks in when I realize that I really don’t know how I’m going to pull this off. It’s 4 in the morning and I have two Eastern European girls heading back to my place. I call Roosh on the cell but it’s too late, he’s on his way back to his man cave. I keep looking in the rearview mirror and the bitchy one wont take her eyes off of me, even when she catches me looking she never looks away. Slut pants is riding upfront and seems to be running her mouth about something trying to make polite but nervous conversation, I tune out.

Parked the car, trying not to think about how absurd this is. On the way to my apartment some creepy old man asks if I need any help. “Nah, I got this one, thanks”. The concierge guy gives me a dirty smile as he tells us good morning. We enter my apartment and my creepy Asian roommate scrams like a cockroach. I bring the bottle of vodka, oj, and pineapples to the center table and leave them to make the drinks while I go change to get more comfortable. Shit, my chinchilla trimmed smoking jacket with the cookie monster blue interior lining just so happened to be at the dry cleaners. I had to go with my straight black wife beater.

I came back out and the two of them were saying something in Bosnian and sitting close to each other on the end of the couch with the drinks already made. I walked over calmly and told them it was American tradition for a guy to sit in the middle of two beautiful girls so that I could give them both equal attention. Slut pants was on my left, the bitchy one was on my right. Slut pants sees my laptop sitting right there and decides to open it to Facebook to friend request me and show off pictures. Bitchy would add me after her. I slightly panicked trying to remember if I had logged off youporn or not. Thank god I did.

So now they’re both talking over each other telling me crazy tales about life and dating in Bosnia or whatever. The bitchy one is mad gangster and apparently attempted to run her ex-boyfriend over in her car but the wheels spun out in the snow. Both are trying to one up each other with stories and showing off cuts and scars. I slightly got a boner. An hour and a half in, it was time to make a move. Should I attempt the group kiss or go straight for the penis pull out and hope for the best Naughty America porn style. Damn I need to make a move, but I had nothing.

Out of no where while slut pants was talking I slightly turned to face the bitchy one. I put my left hand on slut pants knee. Then with my right hand (finger) I rubbed the bitchy one’s thigh. This lasted for about .3 seconds before the bitchy one looked up at me with a look that can only be described as, “Motherfucker please, are you crazy… I will cut you”. Hmmmm this is not how it happens in the movies. 5:25 am my chances of a threesome where D.O.A. The bitchy one asked if I could call them a cab.

I did. While I was up I asked slut pants if she wanted to step out and talk to me for a second while we waited for the cab to call back. She smiled and took my hand as we walked out, then over to the stairwell. We said two words and started making out among other things. We came back inside just as the cab called to let us know he was downstairs. At 6:20 am I fell on my bed failing at the Holy Threesome. But for some reason I was smiling. The room was spinning and my fingers smelled like a hot pocket. I wish I had made out with the bitchy one but I was too lazy and went for the sure thing. With slut pants in Boston for now I wondered if I had a chance with the bitchy one. The friendship switch… it’s not the first time I’ve pulled it. Something told me anything is possible with European girls. I passed out.

Must Read

VK — Thu, 29 Apr 2010 21:30:15 +0000

Listen on the real, to all the Rookies out there trying to figure it out…. this simple post will let you know everything you will ever need to know about being alpha. Read this

Ginger Genocide?

VK — Tue, 27 Apr 2010 12:13:33 +0000

Eric Cartman makes directorial debut

M.I.A, Born Free from ROMAIN-GAVRAS on Vimeo.

Nice

VK — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 12:16:59 +0000

Got some great news this weekend. Then this CD has been stuck on repeat for a while now

VK on Vaca

VK — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 02:45:22 +0000

Testing, testing anyone still there? I’m about to go on an interesting streak right now but will return soon, fully charged. Just waiting to see how things play out. How I was feeling on the blog game ……

Rookie Files: Winter Fling pt. 2

Rookie — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 14:34:52 +0000

Once again, it’s The Rookie, bringing it from the perspective of… a rookie. Real fuck-ups, no gimmicks. VK will be back soon.
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This Taio Cruz guy’s been blowin up the UK, and now on our shores.

Anyway, so I take this chick back to the crib. We’re making out, clothes are flying off with ease. I’m about to stick it in, and grab a condom. She’s like “I don’t wanna have sex tonight.” Of course I take this as some lame resistance, and keep pushing, but she keeps pulling away and getting more serious in her tone. OK maybe I won’t get any tonight but I know I will next time.

A few days later we go get some drinks, go back to the crib, and pretty much do the exact routine as the preceding paragraph. Now I’m getting frustrated, and starting to loose interest. So the next time she came over, I tried again but not as hard and was rebuffed even sooner. I’m like hmmm… She sent me a text the next morning saying she was sorry she was acting weird, but she wasn’t feeling all that hot.

I figured I’d give it one last shot and had her over again one evening. She showed up wearing bummy clothes and it just ruined it for me. I didn’t bother trying. My dick was not excited. We went to bed with me facing the other direction. She put her arm around me and mumbled something about me keeping her warm. Morning can’t come soon enough.

As she left, I laid in bed, relieved that I was moving on. Or so I thought. 10 minutes later she’s back in my room because her battery died and needed a jump. Great, why can’t I just be rid of her?? Thanks to her driving some German-engineered luxury car, it took forever to realize the battery was in the trunk. After at least a half hour, I finally sent her on her way.

In the end, it seemed like she wanted to bun up, and I guess I didn’t feel like I should work to hard. I mean, she wasn’t a girl you really bring out in public. I did once, but the bar was dark. I figured my confidence would take a beating, working so hard for some cho cha from a girl not that hot. Plus, in the middle of all this I had one of my best experiences ever. More on that later.

But as they say, winter flings, they don’t mean a thing, because those summer nights are comin round the corner.