Stop Pretending

The year is 1983. The scene: in the wake of poppy, glossy, girl bands with crimped hair, electric eyeshadow, and cowboy boots, a gaggle of badass chicks with a penchant for 60s psychedelia, style for days, and too much attitude to bottle straight up killed the paradigm of innocent chicks with Fenders. They were the Pandoras, and, in a way, they were the predecessors of the Donnas. With spunk like the girl garage band successors Thee Headcoatees (and, more recently, the Coathangers) and guitar shred-ability like the Gore Gore Girls, the Pandoras were the epitome of the kind of "fuck you" attitude that spawned abso fabso frontwomen like Karen O, Jemina Pearl, and Beth Ditto.


(The Pandoras circa '85. Walking Urban Outfitters poster children.)

The 1986 LP, Stop Pretending (via thee head vein), recorded with frontwoman Paula Pierce, but with a new band, is an amazing blend of 60's surf rock and 80's pop that makes you want to simultaneously jump on your bed with a hairbrush microphone and slip into a leather jacket and smoke a cigarette.

Muh-Hollaaand!

Your electric bird,
Erika

I Iz On Missbehave.com!

OMG I'm on Ask Missbehave! I'm awesome! Pretty much everyone is telling me that I should get out of my current relationship before I a) kill my boo and catch a crazy Fed case, or b) fall in super love and find it impossible to get out (oh no!). I'm still caught in a confused state of crazy pants-ness. You should see me on there. Well, not me, porque my pic's not above the email but they got this cool drag-alicious queen bitch (no threat to you Miss Wintour), and it's for totally awesome.


more cat pictures

I iz the bomb. Whoa. Too much Lolcats for myz own good.

Your electric bird,
Erika

Does It? I Guess It Does...

New episode of the Bad Girl's Club tonight! Normally, I'd be more excited but it's the 1st half of a two part finale thing and I'm kinda sad that I won't get to see my 5 fave bitches anymore...and just when I started to really like Tanisha. Homegirl suddenly got really...tolerant. I liked it. And Darlen was always cool to me...then she made Tanisha catch a case at the club by fighting, but shit can that girl scrap. Neveen's still kind of evil though...


Oh well. Oxygen's not stupid. There will be more seasons until the public tires of them...and then they'll sell the Bad Girl's Club to E! So everyone wins!

In other, obscenely exciting news, I am going through my old school music phase (again). In honor of that, I posted up some retro-licious tracks in the music section. Not all of them are actually from the 60s and 70s...but it doesn't hurt that they sound like they are. A few of the tracks came from the fantastic 50s and 60s garage rock haven, but most of my really great vintage music comes from this outrageous little site. Oh, and you like surf rock and rockabilly? Then listen to this on WRAS 88.5.

Tanisha (post cardio exercise class): "I am getting signals from muscles I never knew existed. I feel like the whole of Brooklyn just jumped me."

Priceless!

Your electric bird,
Erika

Hello? Do You Have Thom Yorke In A Basement?

Okay, yesterday night, around midnight, I was still wide awake (a Coke, two slices of Domino's pizza, a cup of cran-pom juice, a bag of M&Ms and a Fat Boy will do that to you) and flipping listlessly through the channels when I landed on vh1 and guess what I saw?

Radiohead's In Rainbows From the Basement.

All the commercials about it had been saying it premiered at 0:00:00 AM which meant absolutely nothing at the time. But when the clock hit midnight, I got it. Very clever, vh1. I will give you that one.

But oh man, it was wicked rad! Except for the occasional time when Mr. Yorke got so into the music that he started swaying and tossing his arms to and fro - a time when someone should've reminded him that he wasn't at a Cypress Hill concert. But aside from that, it was all that and a bag of Chips Ahoy! I really enjoyed it.

I don't know if it'll come on again, for all you sad souls that missed it, but vh1 has a habit of repeatedly beating it's audience over the head with its programming, so...who knows?

My favorite track from In Rainbows, (aside from "Weird Fishes/Arpeggi"): "Reckoner"


video.vh1.com

Blast that shit!

Your electric bird,
Erika

This Ish Is Justice!

Okay so, ever since homeboy went sample crazy on just about every album he's done, we've all known that Kanye West knows what's up (musically, of course, since his views on Bush are another story). What is very up (sky-high in fact) is that 'Ye and Justice, the feisty French discotheque duo (which I lurve, btw. Gaspard, forget the age difference! I'll still wed thee! Don't French people just drink wine to live immortally anyway? We share the same fountain of youth!) are tag-teaming for some outta this world shit. Oh yeah, and plus they've got that more-dope-than-the-shit-your- dealer-gives-you clothing line that costs an arm, leg, and torso to cop.


But this time, oh this time, 'Ye, Justice, and the sure to be a global supastah! director Romain-Gavras have sacrificed the right virgin because the gods have blessed the world with a sickly killer video for "Stress." If you don't know that song, a) you're not a real Justice fan, and b) don't feel bad. It's at the end of the album, past the club bangers and "D.A.N.C.E." Don't front. You know that's why you bought the record...

Anyway, this video features angry adolescents, a lawless city, some Parisian references, a shaky camera hand, and a subway (or, how I'm pretty sure they say in Paris, metro) station.

So...it's kind of like if Death Wish and Cloverfield had a super wicked HD baby, with bangin' jackets and an ironically ironic hate of "D.A.N.C.E."

Thanks Kanye!

justice stress (official video)
by 75_prod

Your electric bird,
Erika

Found One! (Oh, And A Funny Movie To Warm Your Hearts)

O hai! I found one! I found a nifty pic from RSD! (Turns out Criminal had a ton of them - 530 to be exact - on their Flickr) This is one of the photos from the Judi Chicago set. You can see me in the shorts and tights looking incredibly flabbergasted/demoralized. You can also see some other people trying to look bemused and unfazed, but it was merely a facade. Trust.


Now I have a terribly hilarious video from the tragically comical Super Deluxe. And a haiku about Super Deluxe that James from Criminal wrote. BTW, the haiku first, video later. I noticed the order of items was well, out of order.

Do you need something,
like laughter, sadness, strangeness?
Try Super Deluxe.



Your electric bird,
Erika

So You Lost Your Virginty During A Concert, Huh? Typical.

O hai everybody! National Record Store Day was THE BOMB, and completely all that with a bag of Chips Ahoy! If you missed it, well, you have a lot of 'splaining to do! Criminal and Co. were out in full force and there was a ton of pizza (everyone ate it before I could)and hot dogs on the grill (yep, ate all of 'em), so I actually ended up having to buy a slice of pizza from Little 5 Pizza, although I did look supes spiffy wearing pink sunglasses at night. Holla!

The show started with The Bridges, which were, erm, like Au Revoir Simone, but - GASP! - better. And pretty like the Plasticines and skinny like Jemina Pearl. They were AWEsome, if I do say so myself. It was almost an all girl band, but, typical, a dude was on the skins...sigh...

So there was some haziness afterward while I shopped the sidewalk sale (and totally copped a Niko album for 2 dollars) and then bought a mag to peruse while sitting alone (yes, like a sad loner kid I went to the festivities solo...fug) and as I must have looked like the bike monitor sitting on the patio above the bike rack at Aurora, Philip from Chainestereo, whom I met once before in the exact same parking lot, wearing the same shirt. spoke to me awhile. All was great until he bid me ado and hung with the older, cooler, beer buying crowd, with whom I can only hope to one day compete.

After some standing/aloofing, I saw Trances Arc (soooo cute!) and Club Awesome, furry white tiger suit and all, then Judi Chicago, topless karate suits and all. Dude's British. Anyone know that?

So after killing an hour and losing my parking space, I hightailed it back to Criminal to run into Elliott from Sunday School, my old boss, and then watch my girls the Coathangers go on. As usual, they recognized me from my shirt, and Stephanie for totally signed my drumstick. Porque? 'Cos we're like totally like peanut butter and jelly holmes. Just kidding. 'Cos I asked her to.

After the Coathangers was Noot D'Noot (maaaaajor fun) and then Janelle Monae, a totally fitting closer to the evening. Oh yeah, Andy Hull, Dead Confederate, Anna Kramer and the Lost Cause, and some others played in between those acts, but uh, I can only report what I saw, right?

Yeah, totes, it was sooo amazing and I could not be happier that the whole thing got put together. Despite the skepticism (because there's no actual spike in sales seeing as everything was on sale) I know there's going to be another Record Store Day, and definitely a vinyl resurgence. Or at least a record player resurgence from all the free LPs given out yesterday.

Due to my stupidity I did not have my camera, so I have no photos, but will root around the 'net for some. In the meantime I'll try to hook my hoes and bros up with some of the music from NRSD.

Noot D'Noot - Fire King

The Coathangers - Parking Lot

Judi Chicago - Lizards

Great, great day...awesome, awesome night.

Your electric bird,
Erika

Homeless Soccer

I am MOST DEFINITELY going to update tomorrow after National Record Store Day, but in the meantime, tide your sad selves over with this AWEsome video:



From superdeluxe.com, one of the sponsors of Record Store Day! Whoohoo!

Your electric bird,
Erika

It Won't Get You Married, But...

Okay, I am here currently to profess my undying love for a couple of new tracks that are...mmm...pretty much off the chain. Actually, these bad boys are so good that they were on said chain, jumped off, repaired themselves, then repeated the whole act suicide bomber style. It was sick. I saw it happen.

Anyway, let's just dive right into it. The first one is from the uber-pop Bostonians the Billionaires. They're a five piece of working class dudes (and a fly dudette) from Martha's Vineyard that started a band, made fab music, and then followed suit of every other American band, relocating to LA, where they're currently hustling to get their song, "The End of Summer Song" on Indie 103.1. You can help out in the hustle and chart the come up on their little bio page on Too Soon Records. This song is "Eighties Movies," a light, airy summer song that almost requires you to put the track on repeat. It's almost sung-spoken and, with the lyrics, guitar bridge, and guy/girl interplay, this song feels like it should be a lost track from a of Grease or Guys and Dolls soundtrack. Of course, we've certainly seen these musical-style songs before (*cough cough Hard Place cough cough*) but I love them all. Makes me wanna go all Debbie Allen and Fame and shit.

The Billionaires - "Eighties Movies"

And to reference,

Hard Place - "Demographic" (found it!)

The next song is the Diplo remix of "Bama Gettin' Money." If you've heard the original song, it's eh, so-so, as far as hip hop goes, but then Diplo strolls along, pops a squat, and tinkers with the song until it's straight up flyer than a tsetse. This is definitely ridin' music. Oh, and it's recommended all ridin' be done dirty, k? Thanks. Peep Diplo's other works here.

Diplo - "Bama Gettin' Money" Diplo remix

Finally, we have one of the most interesting new little duos since the Dodos. This Is The Ivy League may actually have graduated from an Ivy League school (as their attire may indicate), but these Brooklynites aren't quick to flaunt any overt higher knowledge. The little cuties combine pop and shoegaze effortlesly, creating seamless three minute soundtracks to an indie movie. "London Bridges" coulda totally been in Juno. Like, for seriously.

This Is The Ivy League - "London Bridges"

That's all. Download, hoard, wear out, recycle.

Your electric bird,
Erika

I've Got Your Eyelids

O.M.G. infinity symbol! I have just fallen in complete and total ardor with Crystal Castles! Firstly homegirl has mad style and her haircut is hella cute and that dude with her could totally hang with Justice, right? Am I not right? Hahaha...to avoid running the risk of sounding like someone who's completely ignorant of their brand new obsessh, Crystal Castles is Ethan Kath and Alice Glass and they're taking over the scene with gale force homie! I became like soooo totally besotted with the two feisty, fast fingered felons of the foot stomp while listening to them on Indie 103.1 in Santa Monica. Indie 103: radio for champs, yeah!

photo courtesy of andrew kendall

But like for real dudes, Crystal Castles are the shit. They're named after She-Ra's pad (BTW you're fully not allowed to ask them that or they'll get all tired of answering the question and shit, so don't) and they turn out just about any venue that books 'em. Hey, does anyone think they'll be here in three years when I can go see them live? Chances are, with the the way house's golden children can go from Shirley Temple to Baby Jane Holzer in the blink of a blog and the flavor of the day changes with the color of the ecstasy tab, prolly not. But there's no harm in enjoying what we've got right now, is there?

CC's self titled debut album is for sure out now (so you better get it, K? Thanks) and they're touring like madmen in the UK right after finishing a few nondescript house shows in warehouses and such around California, so you should catch them while they're still in vogue, K?

The best song - EVER - that Crystal Castles has is "Crimewave", which, in any hipster's terms, is not actually CC, but Crystal Castles v. Health (an equally hipsterish sort of group). Still, regardless of who originally put the song together and who remixed it and who gets the airplay, "Crimewave" is the shet. So much the shet that CC is pimping out tees broadcasting just that single. "Crimewave" has a sort of wave of its own. It's fecking awesome, my man.

You can peep Crystal Castles overrrrr here! and frolic in the heavenly dreamy madness that is "Crimewave" he-errrrr. You can also check up on various Crystal Castles remixes, at the 'Toof, where those dudes are mad blessed to get their hands on some primo shit.

'Cos, like, for serious dude, I luh Crystal Castles to pieces and beyond!

Your electric bird,
Erika

My Hood Versus Your Hood

Ay! It's been a hell of a good start for DJ mixes 'round the way. Although I'm not gonna lie, sooo many songs get repeated from mix to mix that it's not even funny. Well, actually it is funny in a "I'm so different but so similar" kind of way. You know, like goth and punk kids.

Anywaysville, I've been shamelessly promoting DJs from here to Haiti these days, and though my affiliation with them doesn't go much farther than an enthusiastic fan, who doesn't like free press?

We start our selection off with one of the dopest groups of DJs in the world right now: The Hood Internet. Missingtoof peeped these dudes first, back last year, and now, as they would say, you too can peep scene. Most DJs generally limit their mix selection to electropop, electropunk, or that zany, out of the way shit that makes me reach for my pacifier...just kidding. But it's a little hard to get into, mostly because the bass/high hat combo and constantly chopping and screwing of the songs gets really annoying fast. If I wanted to hear Simian Mobile Disco repeat the same four words over and over again, I would listen to those same four words over and over again. See? But noooo, the crew at The Hood Internet is past that. In fact, they were past that before they even got to it, that's how transcendental their shit is. On their mix, aptly titled The Mixtape Vol.1 , the crew mashes Fiest, CSS with Rick Ross, Crime Mob with the Shins, and Swizz Beats with Deerhoof, just to name a few. Mad props if you can name all the songs mashed together without looking at the tracklisting! Anyway, you can peep the mixtape here, or here, if you wish. And while you're at Missingtoof, don't forget to give these dudes their well deserved props.

Moving on, we have Drastik, 1/4 of the Canadian DJ set known as Stylusts. On his (I think) most recent mix, Hipsterific Happy Hour, he takes us through a story of music with transitions smoother than chilled Grey Goose. My favorite part is his nice incorporation of Treasure Fingers, who reps the A-T-L every chance he G-E-T-S. Also notable is his use of Simian Mobile Disco's "It's The Beat" to transition into Li'l Mama's "Control." But if hour long DJ mixes aren't your thing...well, I can help you out a bit. BTW, get Hipsterific Happy Hour he-errr!

Villians aren't usually a thing I like to promote, mostly 'cos they haven't exactly stood for morals and justice, which I heavily endorse. (Well, easy on the morals, heavy on the justice.) But these Villians have birthed a sweet little minimix just for you, whether you don't like long mixes, or your house party just ran a bit short. At about 22 minutes, you can listen to this on your lunch break and still have time for Pilates before you go to work. Sweet! You can get the Villians mix here. (Just scroll down the page) Fully absorb the club atmosphere in your speakers, playa.

And that's all for now. Konichiwa bitchesss!

Worth listening to: Millionaires. If the Coathangers went to a rave in 1988.

Your electric bird,
Erika

Things What Make Me Happy This Week: Spring! Celebrity Apprentice, and Sweet Justice

Ahhhh...it's been long time no blog for me, mostly 'cos I've been reading other people's. Did anyone else know about that one blog dedicated to the style of Claudia from the Babysitter's Club? Which makes me ask when Shelby Woo will ever get her due...She was witty, styling, and completely rad for being one of the few Asians on Nickelodeon. Dude, it was hard back then for a pimp in '96...psshhh...

But to the point...it's Spring! Whoot! Even though the first day was 'ella cold and mad windy, it was still soooo sunny! I love Spring, but Autumn is still my favorite season. And it's almost April dude, which puts us days closer to the first annual National Record Store Day...!

Moving on, unless you don't own a television, can't access the TV Guide Channel, or don't live in the proximity of a liquor store (so you gotta be in the 'burbs), you have no excuse not to watch Celebrity Apprentice on NBC. I mean sure, the show's not so sweet after the jump, and Omarosa's ass got kicked so far to the curb, the streetsweepers had to avoid brushing it up in those big broom thingies, but still, who doesn't like watching C-list celebs (who still think they're big name stars) kiss Donald Trump's rich pale ass? That is so something I can't say no to. Ahhh, sometimes it's just refreshing to have the pecking order reinforced from time to time.

And finally, some fully sweet justice was recieved today (by me, of course) - but before I ruin the story's ending, I should get with the set up: this dude named Eli and I don't get along. We just don't. And not on my part, 'cos I try to include him in convos and shit, but all he likes are baseball and computer games, which keep him from getting his articles in on time (I'm an editor for The Catalyst newspaper). And we especially butt heads when it comes to politics, since I'm right and he's wrong 90% of the time. Did I mention he was a Republican? Well, now you know. Okay, so this whole Elliot Spitzer thing just gave him the smuggest grin I ever saw. He came in and tried to tell me Democrats weren't so holy after all. But then I countered with a healthy jab at our current Commander-In-Chief, which I guess he just could not handle, 'cos then he went on to write an editorial about third party candidates and Dems and blah blah blah blah blah...the point is, someone actually wrote to us bashing the shet out of Eli, which just made me smile, because it was nothing but sweet, sweet justice!

New Be Your Own Pet album out now! Everyone can get awkward already!

Your electric bird,

Erika

Things What Make Me Happy This Week: Them Jeans

Holy ravioli, son. I hate homework. Dude, if homework was a person, I would snub her out on the street so bad...you would have thought she was wearing a Hannah Montana "Best Of Both Worlds" concert tee or something...jeez. Anyway, since I rarely do my homework (cramming makes me smarter!), I guess I'll fill you in on what makes me sooo euphoric esta semana.

Them Jeans. That's right, Mr. Jeans. You music mash-up remix king ruling the L to the A with one hand on the turntable and one hand on your cell just in case Mr. Aoki catches a case and you need to run the coup d'etat...I really really like you. Honest. Pinky swear. I had a heavy crush on Them Jeans as soon as I caught wind of his "Oh Mandy" remix with Spinto Band and Rich Boi. Oh, how he had me in his clutches. I knew that under that surgically attached fedora lurked the mind of genius. So I dug...and was blessed. "My Testarossa and My Crack" was like the appetizer...I hungered for more.

And that's when the all knowing wax spinning DJ Demigods dropped into my lap the Palms Out Sounds Mix Series Vol.2. At first the lengthy name left me irritated and confused. I have an inherent distaste for those who enjoy many words and punctuations in their titles. (I'm still coming for you Kevin Drew. You think your BSS Presents...Spirit If:? bullshit got past me? Nope...my pretentious meter has been all the more honed and perfected upon the purchase of the last Of Montreal record, thanks.)

But I gave the entire thing a listen. And by the whole thing I mean the entire 30 minutes listening to Vol.2 requires. That's when I was smitten with Them Jeans. From Outkast to Justice to T.I. to MIA and beyond...well, it was the fastest orgasm I've ever had. Oh Them Jeans...you delivered the goods unlike any man before you and yet fled the scene faster than a one night stand...leaving me oh so unfulfilled and dissatisfied. I ate breakfast alone, and found an undesirable amount of pulp in my OJ...sigh.

Still, I forgave Them Jeans for his indiscretions as I watched him romance far more fabulous others, hitting the stage with the Cool Kids, Uffie, and Kid Sister. I almost loved him more for leaving me to further his career. I had to respect a man that could keep up the hustle.

In other words, I have mad, mad love for Them Jeans. And though I know it will probably never work between the two of us...well, just give me a farewell romp in the kip by making a rad Sugar and Gold, El Guincho, Karabal Nightlife remix...it's all I'll have for memories. Well, aside from those pictures that you took of me that got leaked on the Dim Mak site.

Just kidding.

Your electric bird.

Erika

Things What Make Me Happy This Week: Apes and Androids and Basia Bulat

It is Friday again, and gloriously so, as it means I can forgo mental exertion, curl up with my hour of Golden Girls, and laze around until it gets dark, at which point I'm forced to raise up and get on my hustle. Whew! Hard work, that hustle.
Anyhoo, what makes me mega, radly, ultra happy is the band Apes and Androids, from LA. They have a sound almost like if Of Montreal fell asleep at the wheel and drove into a ditch full of acid. Ooh. That sounds deadly serious. Hmm...I'll try again. "Nights of the Week" is smooth, like a 40 ounce at a nightclub with ripped velvet chairs. On the flip side, "Golden Prize" is like LCD Soundsystem style R & B with enough Of Montreal badassery to make you laugh so hard the option of dancing looks bleak.

Okay, I'll say they're an anomaly. But really, any more seasoned music journalist would be able to find a hybrid nomenclature for them. So let's leave it. Luckily (and no there's no scrunchie involved), Stereogum is all up on those downloadables, so you can get at those Apes, and court the Androids, simultaneously.

On the opposite end of the spectrum is Basia Bulat, the soft spoken Canadian chanteuse (and not in the Chunklet meaning of the word, thank you) with beyond the beyond gorgeous blond locks and that H & M lookbook worthy face. She was influenced by the oldies but goldies, namely Motown heavyweights, Cole Porter to be one, I believe, and thus out of those pinky, bow shaped lips flows a warmth worthy of a Cat Power contemporary, and almost liquid melodies with a slight country twinge.

Can you tell I love her? Is it obvious yet...? Well, I'll go on then. Oh My Darling, her abso-fabso '07 debut, is a rare square gem among the piles and piles and (sixties retrograde obsessed) piles of female singer/songwriters that pumped out the mediocre, radio wave friendly tomfoolery last year. Mostly I just harbor a heterosexual chick crush on Bulat because she's all model perfection, and I covet her silken mane in unbiblical ways, but the best part of the whole shabang is that past that porcelain doll-like countenance and the modestly humble hype, lies a voice and a talent that is pure gold.



Your electric bird,
Erika

Things What Make Me Happy This Week: Social Studies

How are things on the West Coast? Well, obviously pretty fantastic. At least that's what Social Studies would lead me to believe. Now don't you go running to the classroom for a lesson; San Franciscans Social Studies can school you in keyboard heavy indie rock all on their own.

Their newest album, The World's Biggest Hammer, is neither new nor anything to be missed. It originally debuted in 2006, but I would totally like to say that it was completely underrated in the entirety of the US outside of the Pacific Northwest.

Let me describe it like this: Casio, Casio, Casio, vocals, hi-hats, Casio. Get the picture? Yes, their Casio, in far better condition than the one owned by CSS, is their signature piece, added gratuitously to their dark, Shelley like vocals like glaze to an earthen pot, i.e. with care and wherever neccesary.

I've been listening to The World's Biggest Hammer for almost six months straight, and I cannot get it out of my head, you know, like Kylie Minogue can't. I would recommend listening to "Dante and Corey War" and "Pack of Cards," as heard on Sunday School a while back, because it's got some of the raddest lyrics I've heard in a good while.

They haven't come out with a full-length just yet, but you can still support the come up on their website, where you can buy the EP for only nine dollars. Surely your high paying job working the fitting room at the Gap can afford you that.

Their myspace.

Your electric bird,

Erika

A Not So Anonymous Letter To Missbehave

When I was born, I did not know what magazines were. Actually, I didn't know what anything was. Birth is pretty disorienting. Anyway, seventeen years later, I still did not have any idea what a real mag was. That was, until I found your magazine stuffed halfheartedly between Nylon and Bust. Ha, Bust. Who reads that? (The same people who like Bitch, I guess.)

But I digress. After I leafed languidly through your high gloss goodness, I saw the sign, and it opened up my eyes. Yeah, I saw the sign. My life was changed. Past your uniquely thin cover lies a veritable bevvy of useful information, mind (and genre) bending photos, and colors so bright, Lisa Frank would think she was tripping on acid.

I read Issue No.3, with the bomb Bijou gracing the cover in Bambi-like feigned innocence, so many times I started memorizing the articles, predicting the ads before I even turned the page, and generally becoming pyschotically obsessed with the gloss boss that your magazine entails.

Every few months, I stalk Barnes and Noble just praying I'll turn around and see a shiny badass cover smiling up at me, and when I do, it's like rain hit the Mojave. In fact, your MIA issue gave me the greatest happiness: when she came into town for a show at Centre Stage, I actually stood in front of Criminal Records for two and a half hours (secondhand smoking and actually making people believe I was in my 20's) until she showed up at Aurora and got her to autograph the cover. I told her, "You can sign anywhere. I've already read it."

And boy did I read it.

In other words, what I am trying to impart on you in as many bogged down words and a slightly quagmired style is that I love you, and everything you provide to those of us in the universe that don't believe in red, white, and Aeropostale. That must cringe when they walk past Delia's, and will for sure get it poppin' just to get that vintage plaid dress on the $1 rack. Thank you, Missbehave...thank you.

Your electric bird,
Erika
Issue No.5...I recommend reading the bit about Eurotripping...it's informative and amusing...something Europe is not so much of.