What Suicide Girls are putting on...and taking off... Corsets can both bind us, and set our sexy selves free. In silk, satin, leather and lace they provoke lust, and, once unlaced, reveal what's pent up and hiding underneath. (image) (image) (image) (image) (image) (image) (image) (image) (image)... more

What Suicide Girls are putting on...and taking off...

Corsets can both bind us, and set our sexy selves free. In silk, satin, leather and lace they provoke lust, and, once unlaced, reveal what's pent up and hiding underneath.


























Fashion Notes
Sugar Kitty and Delicious Corsets allow you to create the garment of your wild ‘n’ wicked dreams –– select from several under and over-bust designs, then choose your fabric and trim. * Period Corsets offer bodice-ripping historical romance with a theatrical flair. * Victoria Secret can bind your boobs on a restricted budget. * Agent Provocateur have designs on virgins and pirates. * And Absolute Corsets will cinch your waist with brocade, leather and PVC.


Did we miss your favorite corset shot? If so, upload it to our "Cinch Me Up" Remix Album HERE (the girls are also name-checked at this link).

Check back every other Saturday for more Dirty Laundry and let SuicideGirls show you the best way to (un)dress.

I am writing this Asshole Fuckface Roundup on an aeroplane. I am in the sky, flying far above all the disgusting Asshole Fuckfaces in the US of A, while I write about their horrible activities. I will then place the Roundup on the newswire because I am flying on Virgin American, which has wifi on the... more

I am writing this Asshole Fuckface Roundup on an aeroplane. I am in the sky, flying far above all the disgusting Asshole Fuckfaces in the US of A, while I write about their horrible activities. I will then place the Roundup on the newswire because I am flying on Virgin American, which has wifi on the FUCKING AIRPLANE. This, of course, makes all US airlines complete and total Asshole Fuckfaces. I wish them luck in their future failure. Now, on to the mockery and assault on this week’s Asshole Fuckfaces.

First up, some Saudi Arabian Asshole Fuckfacery.

You know what’s awesome about religion? It allows you to be a pedophile. Pedophilia was pretty common and accepted behavior for Christian priests in Europe during medieval times, so why can’t the Muslims do it, since they are a good 500 years behind Christianity?

I feel all warm and tingly. Mostly because I just shit myself and threw up at the same time. This is your standard, mother and father separate, and then father sells their 8-year-old daughter to an old man for cash. I think Muhammad would have totally dug this kind of shit.

Hey, bro, you know how you bought that car you can’t afford and that computer and that house and that camel? Well, I know an awesome way for you to get out of that –- speaking, of course, as one of your good friends. All you have to do is sell your own daughter to a pedophile. Then you’re totally OUT OF DEBT. Hello? I see no downside. Also, I'm the pedophile.

Totally reasonable. You can finger her relentlessly until then, however.

Next up, some fantastic right wing Asshole Fuckfacing.

You probably have never heard of JoAnne Silver Jones. She’s an “anti-racist activist.”

She’s doing what she can to make the world a better place. Sadly, last month, she was mugged and beaten badly.

She’s still in the hospital undergoing several surgeries to repair her hands, eyes and face. So, why is this story in the Roundup? Well, check out what the awesome folks over at The Right Perspective have to say in their comments on this story.

Okay, wait. That one's reasonable.

On and on it goes. It is a spectacular display or heinous ignorance. Of course, just to the right of the comments is a quote from Barry Goldwater.

Word up, Barry. Your followers are fucking awesome.

Next up, some media Asshole Fuckfacery.

It’s hard to put into words just how shockingly pathetic our media is. Take the good people over at ABC. They wanted to point out the shocking hypocrisy of Obama criticizing Wall Street CEOs for abusing the bailout money by flying in expensive airplanes and giving away massive bonuses.

Totally. The fucking preznit gets a house and shit. Which is, like, so fucked up. Why this asshole Obama isn’t paying rent, I’ll never know. Freeloader. And that’s not all.

What a douche. Getting paid a bunch of money to run the country.

Okay, now I’m angry. Fly coach, you greedy fuck. Why is you sticking it to us taxpayers?

I’m so angry right now. Security? We are paying for fucking security? What kind of bullshit is this? Can’t he pay fer it with his God damn $400,000? And how about you rent out of few of those rooms, dick?

How the fuck can this asshole say CEOs shouldn't buy $50 million dollar jets and try to restrict their salaries when he is the world’s biggest freeloader? Wake up, sheeple!

And finally, it’s more media Asshole Fuckfacery.

Our media is awesome. When faced with insanely important issues, like going to war in Iraq and our current economic crisis, they really step their shit up.

Yeah, because we wouldn’t want people who have some sort of understanding of the issue to debate it. I mean, it’s only the biggest disaster we’ve faced since the Great Depression, so why have an informed discussion? Lets just stick with the politicians. And while we’re at it, let’s just stick with a certain type of politician.

Sure. I mean, why wouldn’t we want mostly to hear from the guys who led us into the Iraq War and whose policies led us to economic ruin? What could possibly be wrong with that? I mean, that totally won’t embolden a few “moderate” idiots who will cut stimulus without any economic reasoning for doing so.

Totally fucking moronic. Nelson and Collins drew a random line in the sand and demanded that is what the stimulus should be. Apparently $890 billion is too much but $780 billion is totally fine. He and his kind cut down the stimulus because of random number fear. Literally random.



Thank God that guy had such a big influence on the stimulus. He’s not a fucking idiot at all.


FearTheReaper is a writer, actor and stand up comedian. Check back each Tuesday and Friday for more from FearTheReaper.

This past summer -- Friday, June 13th to be specific -- SuicideGirls hopped a plane down to Austin, Texas to visit the set of Friday the 13th, the remake of the 1980 slasher classic that introduced the world to drowned-boy-turned-unkillable-ghoul Jason Voorhees. Here is the final installment in our series... more

This past summer -- Friday, June 13th to be specific -- SuicideGirls hopped a plane down to Austin, Texas to visit the set of Friday the 13th, the remake of the 1980 slasher classic that introduced the world to drowned-boy-turned-unkillable-ghoul Jason Voorhees. Here is the final installment in our series of five interviews with those responsible for bringing horror back to Friday the 13th and giving Jason Voorhees a new lease of life.

Derek Mears gets into the head of the slash-happy serial killer for Platinum Dunes revisionist interpretation of the classic horror tale. Here he talks about the man behind the infamous hockey mask and the responsibility that goes with wielding Jason's bloody machete.


Question: Can you talk about the Jason outfit that you have to get into?

Derek Mears: The coat is gigantic and the hat. The hat? [laughs] I'm so tired. They have a bridle that's been made into, like, a machete sheath and that's pretty freakin' cool. They wet the shirt down and it looks kind of cheesy right now, but once it's lit and everything, [make-up and special effects guru Scott Stoddard has] made this kind of scoliosis bend in the body along the back, for a very slight hump. I know people heard about a hump before and they were like, "Oh, what the hell, he's a humpback? That's stupid!" And it's like, "Ugh, no." Everything else is me.

Q: Are you having a good time filming? Enjoying killing all these teenagers?

DM: Are you kidding me? This is like a dream. This is the best ever. It is a little weird when people say, "So, what did you do last night?" "Oh, I killed some teenagers." It's hard not to squeal and act like a twelve year-old girl in a school dress. When you talk about it you have to be very professional and your voice drops. It's really been a blast. It's been an absolute dream working on the show.

I've never worked on a show where everyone genuinely likes each other for who they are. There's none of that Hollywood crap where it's like, "I've worked on this, I'm so powerful" or "Do you know who I am? I have my own TV show." Everyone became friends and I felt so retarded, because later on I'd see these little bulletins come out -- I never IMDb'd anybody -- and I'd see a bulletin that would say, "Ryan Hansen from Veronica Mars" and I'd be like, "Dude, congratulations, that's awesome...that thing you did two years ago." I was a giant dork.

It's really been fantastic. It's like playing with your friends. Or, as I said before in a different interview, you run around playing Jason as a kid and then Hollywood goes, "Hey, you're pretty good at that -- why don't you come do it for everybody else?" It's like, "What, are you serious? Okay." So I'm taking my shot at it.

Q: So you're not keeping a willful distance between yourself and your victims?

DM: No, no. In the very beginning, Andrew Form, we went to dinner and he was teasing me. He said, "You seem really, really nice." I was like "Thanks." And he goes, "No, no, really nice. You're gonna be able to switch, right?" I was like, "Yeah, it's called acting. That's what I do." And we do scenes and [actress Amanda] Righetti keeps making me crack up. Amanda and I will goof around and she'll start getting these little laughter fits, and it's like, "Will you shut up? I'm doing stuff. You're being unprofessional." "No, you're being unprofessional!" And I think Danielle [Panabaker] was saying that it's hilarious that you'll switch into this really intimidating [mode], thrashing things around in the scene, throwing things, chasing people down, incredibly brutal, smashing people and holding onto them...and cut! "Hey bro, you okay?" "No, are you okay? Did I hit your mask?" "No, no, I'm fine." And everyone starts laughing. It's amazing.

Q: Jason chases people now? He usually just walks and they somehow can't get away.

DM: [laughs] Not anymore! For this one they've changed it around. They've made him more human. They wanted to make him an actual character and not just a machine, like in the other ones where, after Part 4 he starts to get into the zombie-robot movements. They wanted to get to where you feel sympathy for the character, you understand where he comes from. Mark [Swift] and Damian [Shannon], the writers, did a really good job of that. When I first read the script, I'd been a fan of the series forever, and I got extremely excited and tingly and it was like, "I have to be on this, because this is what I want to see as a fan."

With a Friday the 13th film, you watched them for the unique kills, there's never really been that big of a plot or unique character development, but with this one I was so excited, because each of the characters you actually care about. It's not like in some of the 80s films, where it's like, "Here's my one-line joke, this is where you're supposed to laugh." Here there's actually well-written comedy, it helps to relieve the tension in certain areas. It's not a giant comedy at all, this is just a little tiny part. And you actually care about the characters -- they have their own individual story arcs. What excited me was, with the characters, at different times during their arcs, before they've been completed or just started or they're about to discover something about themselves [claps his hands together] they get taken out! It sets up the premise that anyone can go at any time. There are no rules, and that's what I really, really dug about it.

Q: How does the violence level compare to the originals?

DM: In my opinion, it ups it. It's not your stereotypical slasher...It's actually smart. It lets us, as fans, see Jason set people up. I don't want to give anything away, but, someone does something and then you realize, "Wait a second, that's a fucking trap! Jason just set a trap for somebody? That was smart." You actually see him thinking. That's where I'd like to see the character go and that's what they're doing with this film.

Q: What's the core of this character from your point of view? How do you get inside of it?

DM: Well, in my opinion the Jason of the script is a victim, in general. Jason represents anyone who was teased as a kid. We've all gone through different stages in high-school, I had my hair loss, people had stuttering problems, they were outcasts and misfits, and that's what he ties into and that's what I myself tied into. He was a victim of society. He wants to be left alone, society has rejected him, he's pulled away from them, and now these kids come in and desecrate his area and he has nowhere left to run. It's very much like John Rambo in First Blood. He basically is the victim and he has to fight back. People have asked me before, "What's it like playing the villain?" "He's not a villain, he's a victim!" And people are like "You're kind of crazy." [laughs]

Q: Does Jason talk?

DM: Not in this one, no.

Q: What's your preparation like, to get into character?

DM: The physical aspect of it, this Jason is a lot leaner than the other Jasons, which were bulkier and slower-moving. Brad [Fuller] and Drew [Form] wanted to go with someone who was -- not to toot my own horn -- someone who had more functional training, someone who could still intimidate but was leaner and who had been living off the land and running through the forest and hiding. He's a hunter. So, preparation-wise, I did a lot of training, a full, crazy workout where each day is something different and it's a mixture of weights and core training and the design of it is for strength and to function.

For the mental aspect of it, I did a lot of research on child-development. In the script, Jason loses his mother and sees her get killed in front of him. He was nine to ten years old when that happened. So I did research on, when you're that age how do your cognitive processes happen? How is the child supposed to be developing? I found out that at that age you're starting to be integrating into society, whether it's through group sports or group activities so that you find out you're not alone. I discovered that he missed that aspect. He was already an outcast from society for looking different and being disfigured, and his only connection to love and reality is his mother. Losing her, he never got the chance to be a team player. I explored the psychological aspects of that and different parts about serial killers -- at some point something traumatic happens in their younger lives that makes it happen, or makes them not think clearly like everyone else.

I also did some research on wilderness survival, the psychology of wilderness survival, what happens to soldiers who get separated from their platoons, the psychology of realizing that you're alone and what that does to you. Just playing with those aspects, the hypothetical of "what if that continued." You put all these ingredients into this recipe and mix together.

Q: Did you take a look back at previous Jasons?

DM: Oh, I've been a fan of almost all the different Jasons before this. Richard Brooker, C.J. Graham, Kane Hodder. I've definitely done my own thing, with where I come from with the character. I've added little sprinkles, homages -- I don't know if they'll be picked up in the film -- to them. Like, there's this one scene where there's an homage to Part 2. Going through a window, I grab a character and it's very similar to that. Or like, in Part 4, where Tommy Jarvis comes down the stairs and there's that slow, stiffening Jason head-tilt.

In acting, there's a theory about Greek mask work; there's the object, which is the mask and there's the actor or the character. Individually, they are two separate identities, but when you put them together, it becomes a brand new identity. It's a very different recipe when you put them together and you're going to get a different outcome. To me, it's like handwriting. Like, how you guys make a B and how I make a B are totally different. It's our own style. So you bring your own experience, your own life-lessons

Q: Are you doing the stunts yourself?

DM: Yes and no. I had a double come in for...if you see the whole body and the face, it's always me, but I went and got married during the middle of the shoot and for one of the days they had a double come in and you see his hands -- there's a scene where he comes out of the floor grabbing a guy, pulling him down. And Chris, a friend of mine, has been dressed like me for certain shots, like walking shots of my legs and he did a rollover on the dock into the water. So yes and no.

Q: Do you have a favorite stunt so far?

DM: My not-so-favorite stunt so far has been this scene where I'm under a dock and I have to burst through. I don't know how many times we did it, but we did it the day before, like five times and then the next day we did it three times and I'm used to blasting through, so it's like, "Ready, and, action," and I shoot up and my hands and my head go at the same time and nothing happens. I thought one of the actors had stepped right where I was supposed to go as a joke and I totally gave myself a spinal compression, I was like, "Aaargh!" Of course I yelled some sort of lovely, creative profanity and then I hear the other actors start laughing and they didn't actually step on me at all, it's just that the board didn't break.

So everyone's kind of giggling and they set everything back up, and it's like, "Okay, let's do this, for real this time. Action!" Same thing happens. It's like, "Fuck me! This is the worst." I just kind of sink in the water and everyone's laughing and I'm just kind of like, "Yeah, it's fun for you guys." Swimming in the lake was absolutely crazy. I have this full gear on and of course the prosthetics take on water and we're testing everything out. I've got the full Frankenstein jacket, with bits and pieces together, a giant jacket. I have pieces of metal weighted on me. I have a chain, pieces of metal that are weighted, on me and I have prosthetics in for teeth. It's craziness, because I can't close my mouth at all

What I learned is that if you're swimming and water comes into your mouth, you need to be able to push your cheeks together and spit it out -- I'm SCUBA certified and I know water stuff and I didn't really know that -- so I was out on a little buoy and they had to pull the safety buoy away so that I can start to tread water. The respirator wouldn't fit in the mouth and they had an underwater shot where they see me go down. So they're like, "Let's try it out," and they pull it away and I immediately go under. My jacket gets caught on my shoulders and I can't raise my hands and that's when I realized that I can't close my mouth because of the prosthetics and the teeth. I'm like, "Okay, this sucks. I gotta kick, I'm going down." So I'm taking on water and I get panicked, scared. I start kicking like crazy, I come to the surface and try to give the dive sign for "Need help" and I can't get my hand up to do it! And they're rolling and I'm like [yells in a garbled voice] and one of the safety divers was like, "No, he needs us." Then we got rid of some of the stuff and tested it again and it was fine. But it was like, "Holy shit! That would be a good headline: 'Remember that time a guy died on Friday the 13th?'"

Q: What's your favorite Friday the 13th?

DM: That would be Part 4. By the way, feel free to edit out my "likes" and run-on sentences if I sound like a 13 year-old girl. I really like Part 4. I really identify with the Tommy Jarvis character. When I was younger, I had alopecia, which is hair loss -- it fell out in the sixth grade. It would fall out in patches and then grow back in. When I saw the scene where Feldman had his head shaved to look like Jason, that's kind of how my head looked at the time, with little patches here and there. I was like, "That's a picture of Jason as a kid? Whoa." I identified more with Jason than I already had. Subconsciously, that's one reason that I really identify with the character. It wasn't cool to be bald at the time, but everything happens for a reason -- now I get a lot of my work from being hairless, the creature stuff, it's easy to apply makeup and glue. It's been an absolute blessing.

Q: When you're out on location, have you freaked out any locals by walking around in the mask?

DM: Funny story, one time we were at a Boy Scout camp and they didn't know what we were shooting, but the Boy Scout camp had like two hundred cabins right next to where the base camp was. Brad and Drew, the producers, came over and told me to go over and say hi to the kids. [laughs] I said, "No way! They'd totally freak out. Plus, their dad will probably have a gun and I'll get shot. I'll scare the kids! Plus, you guys are thinking of this all wrong. What you do is pick one kid and scare the shit out of the one kid, then he runs back and says, 'Oh my God! I just saw Jason Voorhees!' and everyone thinks that kid's crazy."

Q: Is director Marcus Nispel generally encouraging you be as rough and as violent as possible in the performance?

DM: He is. I love seeing his eyes get this little tunnel vision -- you can almost see what he's seeing. He gets animated, he's like a child: [in German accent] "No, no, no, when you come in it's got to be ferocious and you are attacking like an animal! Everyone will freak out!" He gets so excited, and even these random things come in and out. There was this one scene where one guy was doing a death scene and I think they have a Marcus quote book of random things that come out of his mouth, which are little bits of gold. He was sitting there for this one guy's death scene and he goes, "More, more! Scream! Scream to the heavens! Reach to the heavens and scream!" He's yelling louder than the actor. Then he's like, "They've abandoned you. They've abandoned you, motherfucker! You are alone, motherfucker!" And I'm trying not to laugh. He was so passionate about it, but he was getting the performance that he wants. I turned to Scott in make-up effects while I was watching the actor crying and begging and I look at Scott and I go, "Holy shit, dude." And he goes, "What?" And I go, "This might be the first Friday the 13th where there are some really good actors." Cause they yelled cut and the actor was still in the moment and sobbing and trying to come back out of it. I was like, "This is really cool."

Q: Are you allowed to tell us how Jason finds his hockey mask?

DM: No.

Q: What are you thoughts on playing a franchise character that's beloved by so many horror fans?

DM: I'm on the Internet all the time, cause I'm a fan myself and I feel like I've kind of flipped sides. When there's a Batman movie announced, or a James Bond movie announced, I'm always like, "Who's this new guy? I liked so and so before! We'll see..." So I completely understand where the fans are coming from. It's strange. Heavy is the head that wears the mask, but I've been blown away by how positive and how supportive people have been so far, just people wanting to see the character in general and wanting the franchise to continue. I haven't seen that many negative comments, I've seen a few, but never really directed towards me, it's very respectful -- it's directed in the sense of, "I really like this guy, why don't they hire him?"

I feel a lot of responsibility, I really want it to be good. On set, a lot of the people in different departments are actually fans of the series and they want it to be the best it can be. Brad and Drew or Marcus will ask my opinion on something in a scene, or I'll be like, "Hey, I don't think Jason would do this" or "This isn't what I'm going for" and I'll always double-check. I'll go over to some of the fans and I'll be like, "Was that too over the top? I wanna make sure I'm strong with this." I get their feedback. There's like, a big huddle. I do ultimately want to make my own character choices, but I do want to make sure that, at three in the morning, I'm not drunk-tired and that I'm on the right page.

Q: If they ask you back, where would you like to see the story go?

DM: I was actually talking to Scott the other day and I was like, "What would you want to see?" We were playing with hypothetical situations and of course we got all smart-assy, getting into Freddy vs. Jason vs. Predator and it got more and more retarded. We got all fanboy-geeky. I'd like to keep the realism of the character. I think, what would really happen if all these people were murdered in a certain area over and over again? You'd think they'd send in a special forces team or something to investigate what was going on. Take it to the next level, where it was even more Rambo -- where people are actually trained professionals and having Jason go Tarzan on people, really use the land.

Q: Were you satisfied with the way things wrap up with Jason in this installment?

DM: Yeah, it's wild, because you walk a thin line between something new and something old. The question I keep asking myself is, how far do you go? You say, remember this from Part 3 or Part 4? That was really cool, but you want something new. Do you reinvent the wheel? It's tough, and truthfully, right now, I don't know what the ending is because it keeps changing. We've shot a couple of different ones, so I'm kind of up in the air, but I am excited that Brad and Drew and Marcus asked my opinion, which was really nice.

Q: Is there one ending that you're lobbying for?

DM: Not so much, actually. The ones that are presented, I'm like, "Oh, I can see it going that way..." I'm really on the fence. It's always like, "Yeah, I can see that." That's a horrible answer, but I don't know.



Friday the 13th opens in theaters nationwide on Friday, February 13, 2009. Check out the official site for more info.

It's hard being Tommy Lee. He's alone in a Las Vegas hot tub (albeit a very nice one), he doesn't have a stripper pole installed in his tour bus -- yet -- and he has a habit of finding trouble even when he's not looking for it (the latter being part of his well-documented charm). To... more

It's hard being Tommy Lee. He's alone in a Las Vegas hot tub (albeit a very nice one), he doesn't have a stripper pole installed in his tour bus -- yet -- and he has a habit of finding trouble even when he's not looking for it (the latter being part of his well-documented charm). To make matters worse, he's just found out that sixty of the hottest tattooed chicks on the planet, with the kind of proclivity for naked frolicking he appreciates, are going to be in town the week after leaves. As he waits for his friends to arrive, we selflessly kept the rocker company on the phone, chatting about the Saints of Los Angeles U.S. tour his band, Mötley Crüe, have just embarked on, and the sinful fun that can be found on the road.

Nicole Powers: Where are you right now?

Tommy Lee: I'm in Vegas, sitting in a hot tub in a Sky Villa in the Palms Hotel. We're in the Hugh Hefner Suite.

NP: It doesn't get better than that.

TL: No, it's fucking epic. Where are you?

NP: I'm in Los Angeles, but we actually have 60 Suicide Girls going to Vegas next week. So you're in Vegas the wrong week I can tell you!

TL: Wow! That sucks.

NP: They're in town to make a DVD.

TL: Awe! You're kidding me?

NP: No.

TL: God. When is everyone here? Next week?

NP: Yeah.

TL: Fucking hell!

NP: Life is all about timing.

TL: I need to get back here some how.

NP: I heard you had a rather scary incident recently in a helicopter. Can you tell me about that?

TL: Oh! [laughs] No, there was nothing scary about it. Mötley Crüe did a show in Palm Springs, out in the desert, and we were flying the helicopter back. This house was on fire about 30 minutes outside of Van Nuys airport, where we were going to land. So there was this house on fire, you could see all this smoke coming up. And I said, "Fuck! Let's go over there and check it out." We flew close to the house to check it out, and apparently we got into the police's airspace. But we were so far away from them. I still don't understand. Like, there was no way we were that close.

NP: So you caused a minor emergency with the police department?

TL: Yeah, well, they followed us to where we were landing. We were going to land at my house, but we were running out of fuel, so we landed at the airport to get some fuel. And then we just decided, let's get out and we'll just drive home. So we were on the ground, and I had in my backpack a bottle of vodka mixed with lemonade, right. As soon as we landed my pilot, Dave, said, "Hey! Where's that vodka?" I grabbed it, and he takes two big giant sips straight out of the vodka bottle. Right when he was drinking it the cops walked out and said, "Who's the pilot of that helicopter?" And he's like, "That would be me." So they thought he was drinking. But he doesn't drink and fly –– ever. That's stupid. So that's what the whole deal was. They gave him a sobriety test and all that. He's like, "Guys, I just had two shots of vodka after we landed, now it's a little late to be testing me, do you know what I mean?" So that was it. No big deal.

NP: But that's typical of you. You get into trouble without trying to, without doing anything wrong.

TL: I know. [laughs]

NP: Life is so unfair.

TL: I know. I had nothing to do with any of it. [laughs]

NP: Mötley Crüe's new album is called Saints of Los Angeles –– shouldn't it really be called Sinners of Los Angeles?

TL: I would personally have to say that I am more of a saint than a sinner.

NP: I believe that, 'cause you obviously take great pride in being a really great dad.

TL: Yeah.

NP: What other aspects of your life are you most proud of?

TL: I think, more than anything, I just treat people like I want to be treated, and at the end of the day just try to be a good guy, like a nice person. I'm friendly with everybody, and sometimes it gets me into trouble you know. I can't say no very often. Sometimes it gets me into trouble, but my attitude in life is just be kind to everybody and karma will be kind back to you, you know?

NP: Well, in our puritanical culture people do confuse having fun with being evil. What's your philosophy towards sin these days?

TL: I don't believe in it. I think you need to have a good time and as long as you aren't hurting anyone else, everything's A-OK.

NP: Do you believe in god?

TL: I can say that I practice Buddhism, and I definitely believe there's someone higher and greater than all of us out there, you know...It was a couple of years ago. I was in jail for an entire summer, like four, five months, and I started reading a couple of books on it, and I was like, "Wow!" It's really amazing you know. It's good stuff.

NP: So what about Buddhism have you been able to apply to your life? And what about it has really helped you?

TL: It’s just compassion really, more than anything. Like, if you see a little spider on the ground, you don't smash him, you grab him and put him outside and let him go rock out. I think, it's just compassion for everything, all things.

NP: There is a certain thing about respect for life. They say that serial killers often showed signs even as kids. A classic sign of a serial killer in the making, is someone that tortures animals as a child.

TL: [laughs] Oh fuck! All pets?

NP: I guess, once you lose respect for life, where do you draw the line.

TL: Yeah right. I mean fuck! I dunno. That's a big question right there. Does anyone know that?

NP: Which is why you've got to be nice to the little guys.

TL: Exactly.

NP: I heard that Larry Charles is on board to direct a film about Mötley Crüe's life as set down in your collective biography, The Dirt. Is that true?

TL: We don't have any definitive plans on the film yet.

NP: Is that just internet rumor? I mean should I be cleaning up your Wikipedia page?

TL: You know, I don't know. This movie project has been going on forever. So to tell you the truth I don't know who's even been talked to or any of that stuff, so it's best to leave that one alone.

NP: Do you enjoy some of the rumor and misdirection that comes from the internet? Some of it must be fun to read –– the more ridiculous stuff.

TL: Yes. Isn't that funny. I mean prior to the internet you had to hear it from your friends or some gossip columnist, or something like that, and now shit's just everywhere. It's unbelievable.

NP: It's hard to control it, unless you're like Stephen Colbert, who seems like he amends his Wikipedia page on an hourly basis.

TL: Oh my god. That's crazy. Yes, it's a double-edged sword isn't it.

NP: Are you big on the internet? Are you a bit of a geek?

TL: Yeah. I'll admit it. I'm definitely a bit of a geek. I love being able to get music when you want it. I just kind of surf around and check out fucking crazy porno or music. I'm a gear-head, I love recording music, so I'm always trying to find the newest, latest, coolest, fastest, badass piece of equipment, so I love it. I'm always on there.

NP: Talking about the newest, craziest, coolest bit of badass equipment. You've kind of pimped out your tour bus haven't you? I mean I understand it's got a recording studio in there.

TL: Ah, ha, yeah!

NP: And a Jeagemeister machine

TL: Yep.

NP: What other gadgets have you got in there?

TL: Well there's a shower, there's a kitchen, a Pro Tools recording system, a Jeagemeister machine, both formats of Playstation, and Xbox.

[loud police car sirens go off in the background]

Whoa, somebody's in trouble!

NP: And it's not you this time.

TL: Thank fucking god it's not me –– or maybe they are coming to get me –– who knows? Fuck! [laughs]

NP: I'll be your witness. "He was only doing an interview officer."

TL: All of a sudden the phone hangs up and you're like, "Uh-oh! I guess he had to go."

NP: I'd have to turn on the TV to find out what was going on.

TL: Yeah right. [laughs] Oh boy!

NP: Getting back to your bus. What bit of gear haven't you got that you'd like. I mean you're in a Jacuzzi right now, would you like one of those in there?

TL: That would be cool. Although I don't know how that would work. It would probably splash all over the place.

NP: You'd have to put it an extension, in a trailer at the back.

TL: There you go. That'd be fun. I don't have a stripper pole –– that'd be kind of fun too. I think I'm missing that.

NP: I feel you are too.

TL: But then again, we don't really need a pole. You don't need a pole to strip right? At least on my bus we haven't needed one yet.

NP: I understand you have a compulsory strip rule in your backstage area.

TL: Yeah. My dressing room has a no clothes rule. You have to remove one item of clothing that's not your socks to even get in. That's just the way we do it. Actually, the night before last, when we were in Reno, it was fucking awesome. We'd just got off stage, and I dried off for a second, kind of catching my breath, poured a cocktail, and all of a sudden the dressing room door opened, and here come, not with one article of clothing removed, but fucking totally naked just walking into my room. I was like, "God, bless you guys." It was beautiful.

NP: So how many naked people just randomly walked in?

TL: Well right when the door opened, there was two naked girls that came in, and then there was probably about five or six other people there that were half naked so it was a nice little party.

NP: Do you share with your band mates to keep everything cool?

TL: Well, you know what, it's kind of strange because Vince is married, Mick's got a girlfriend and Nikki's got a girlfriend, so I'm like the single crazy guy. Everyone comes to my room after the show.

NP: Poor you.

TL: I know! Poor me, right?

NP: The only single guy. It must be so sad to be alone.

TL: I love it.

NP: Well someone's gotta do it haven't they?

TL: Right. Someone's gotta do it –– Jesus.

NP: It's practically a public service. Someone has to keep the rock & roll dream alive.

TL: Exactly –– and I'm flying the flag baby. And you know it's so funny, because the guys in my band they put me way, way, way down at the end of the hall in the last dressing room because it's like my music is way too loud, and there's a bunch of crazy naked people everywhere.

NP: So you're even the bad boy of the band at this point.

TL: Of course. Always have been, always will.

NP: You guys have been together for nearly three decades now, and you're one of the few bands where other members are as famous as the lead singer. How does that affect the internal balance? I would imagine having a more even spread is a healthy thing in a band.

TL: A more even spread of what though?

NP: Well often groups are very beholden to a lead singer who's the most famous face in a band. And you don't have that. There's a more even spread of power in the band.

TL: I think it's awesome, you know. Thank god there's four guys that are equally as talented, and have a presence. There's nothing worse than a band that are faceless, you don't even know their names or what they do, or maybe you just know the singer and the other guys are kind of in the dark. So it's very cool being in a band like that.

NP: It's a very positive thing, that you've all been able to carve your own niche.

TL: Yeah. It's awesome, isn't it?

NP: A true collective.

TL: It's definitely a crue.

NP: Well I should let you get back to bubbling your bits. Good luck with the tour.

TL: Thank you. You know what? I absolutely love tattooed women, like you have no idea. It makes me crazy. It makes me absolutely fucking crazy. Do me a favor and put it in print. Blow kisses to all the tattooed beautiful Suicide Girls for me, OK.

NP: Absolutely. How many kisses?

TL: Millions!

NP: Well Suicide Girls love tattooed guys, so I'm sure you'll get them back in spades, 'cause you need more girl love right?

TL: Yeah, right. [laughs] I know. I'm sitting here all alone. This is terrible...They're just not here yet –– that's all.


Hit the Mötley Crüe website for more info on the Saints of Los Angeles tour.

If you are going to be in Las Vegas on Friday, February 13th, come out to meet Suicide Girls from around the world as they host the Black Heart Party, at Wasted Space in the Hard Rock Hotel. Check our Facebook page for more event info.

Daniel Craig has been James Bond for two films now but Clive Owen still can't escape it. Though Owen was a rumored frontrunner after Pierce Brosnan's last film, he never wanted the part. Just because he's ruggedly handsome and looks good in a suit, people keep bringing it up. At the press... more

Daniel Craig has been James Bond for two films now but Clive Owen still can't escape it. Though Owen was a rumored frontrunner after Pierce Brosnan's last film, he never wanted the part. Just because he's ruggedly handsome and looks good in a suit, people keep bringing it up.

At the press junket for The International, he had to put on a stoic face and deflect the 007 comparisons. The thriller has Owen investigating a corrupt bank. Though there is one explosive gunfight in the Guggenheim museum, the rest of the film is free of outrageous stunts and focuses on real world politics.

Owen wears a suit in the film, but it's a rumpled, budget number and his character is disheveled and scruffy from the strain of the case. He was a tad more dashing in person, sporting a black designer suit more worthy of Bond. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, so even if his answer to a question was in the negative, he had a thoughtful explanation of why.

Question: Was the Guggenheim shootout the roughest thing to do?

Clive Owen: It was the most physical and it took a long time, and it was always going to be a huge scene in the movie, even from the very first time I sat down with Tom [Tykwer] to talk about the movie. He said, "It's not going to be an action film per se, but when there is action, I want it to be incredibly tense and very explosive," the Guggenheim being obviously the biggest set piece.

It just took a long time to film. We were walking around the Guggenheim months before shooting, Tom talking to me, [about] how he envisions the scene. We're walking up the rotunda and we had the whole thing really exquisitely planned out. The thing about it is, it's not just get everyone in there and let's shoot out the Guggenheim. It's ever developing. It's like you go in there and things keep changing and developing and it gets crazier and crazier but it's always this forward momentum I just think I haven't seen in a film. It's one of the most exquisitely realized scenes I've been involved in.

Q: Otherwise it really isn't an action film though.

CO: No, I mean, I think that each location we went to has a big wonderful set piece. The thing about the Guggenheim that was important was that it didn't seem out of context with the rest of the film. You don't want to suddenly go, "Now we're going to do this amazing big shootout in the Guggenheim." It had to keep in with the rest of the film. It had to feel like it belonged in the movie and that's why I think he did it so brilliantly, because it's hugely entertaining. To trash the Guggenheim to that extent with snow coming in there at the end, it feels like a movie, but it's in keeping with what's gone before. It feels like it belongs there. In the wrong hands, that sequence could have just looked like it was suddenly oh, there's a big flashy shootout, but it doesn't feel like that.

Q: So is this the anti-Bond?

CO: No, it is what it is. The one thing for me playing the character that was very important was that there was no vanity. There was no time for self-reflection. The guy is only looking one way and that's outwards. He's obsessed. He's a passionate, obsessive character. There's no vanity there and it was important the way I looked clothes-wise, the way my face looked. He doesn't care about what he's putting out in any way and that's not typical for a lead character in a movie. But the guy, it was important that the clothes looked down because there's no time to be thinking about how he's presenting himself because he's so obsessed outwardly.

Q: Does it take a lot out of you to get into this intense mode for this, and maybe films like Children of Men?

CO: Yeah, in this film especially. I'd say they were very different. You think of Children of Men and that was a very apathetic, given-up character. This character has to drive the movie in terms of his anger, his passion. It's a paranoid political thriller and the guy at the middle of it all is railing saying, "You've got to believe me, you've got to believe me." You have to put that into every scene that you do because you've got to drive it. Otherwise, if you don't care crazily about it, and people don't buy that you're caring, then people aren't going to go with you. So every scene had to have this drive and this energy and this commitment, and it does because it's not the kind of movie where you can ever, ever go on the back foot. You've got to be driving.

Q: Did you have any idea when you were making it that we'd all be thinking about banks when the movie came out?

CO: No, it's incredible how timely it is really because you consider they were honing the script for two years and then we started shooting the film over a year ago, and what's happened in the last year with banks and the way the attention's on them now and the way people are looking at them, it's incredibly timely. When I was sent the script, I was sent a lot of research that it was based on as well. A huge part of the movie is saying look at banks, are they using people's money appropriately? Are they completely sound institutions? And the whole world's doing that now. So it's incredibly timely.

Q: How do you stay juiced about what you do, and not get jaded?

CO: Maybe a few years ago, I got into a situation where I maybe did three films back to back and I realized I really hate that rhythm. I think you've got to have appetite. And to jump from one film to the other, one, it doesn't give you enough time to prepare properly and two, you get tired and that's not good. The rhythm for me in the last couple years in these films, there've been proper gaps between where there's been time to talk and prepare and get in the right place, and I've also been blessed that Tony Gilroy [the writer/director of Owen's upcoming film Duplicity] and Tom Tykwer are amazing talents. They're both as good a director as I can dream to work for, and that juices me up because I know that the people I'm working for have incredible taste. There's a confidence going in that you're going to be very well looked after and there's a good chance that the film will turn out well, so that keeps me very juiced.

Q: Did you used to worry if you don't take a job -- who knows when the next one will come?

CO: It's slightly that but it's also about being really tough when it comes to...you might want to do that film, but going from that film straight to that film where they've already started shooting and you've got to get on a plane and go, you're not going to be ready enough to do it justice.

There is a privilege in knowing that there are things around I'm being offered. So it's not like if I turn that down, there's going to be nothing else there to take its place, but I think it's certainly important to me in the way I work that I have time before a movie begins, that I don't jump from one to another. I'm not very good at it.

Q: Is it also balance between family and career?

CO: But that's the same. It ties in exactly the same with the family in terms of when you do movies tied together, it means you're away for a very, very long time. That's not good. So I've been very lucky. The rhythm the last year or two, for instance this last year I spent the entire summer holidays from when the girls broke from school until they went back, home with them. Then I went off to Australia and did a film there. It feels like there's proper family time and there's proper work time and I'm lucky. Not everybody has the privilege of that choice but I think dictating the rhythm is important.

Q: During that time when you had to take whatever you could get, what was the worst audition you ever had?

CO: There was quite a few. There were quite a few. The days when I used to come to L.A. with a very small little film, like I'd come on the back of some tiny film that had a tiny distribution like Close My Eyes or Bent, going around and doing the rounds then was pretty tough because you were meeting the assistant of the assistant of the assistant who asks you questions like, "Do you play goodies or baddies?" Or the common one was, "So, you do a lot of theater." It was pretty soul destroying, I must admit.

Q: Do you have any plans to go back to stage?

CO: I've been thinking about doing a play but I haven't got one that I'm desperate to do. I haven't done a play for seven years. Again, I'd really need some appetite. I really want to really want to do it and there isn't anything that I've been offered or a play up my sleeve that I'm desperate to do, but if the right thing came along, yeah, I would do a play.

Q: Would you consider directing?

CO: I think about directing, but again, it's such a different rhythm from acting that again, there is no script that I've suddenly gone, "I would love to direct that." I do flirt with the idea of directing and I just would need to find something. The rhythm of a director is a two-year cycle as opposed to a few months for an actor. Tom Tykwer's a workaholic who was literally, at one point during the movie, during the Guggenheim sequence, was shooting night and day shoots with a second unit, going from one set to the other set and then back again. I mean, the work ethic from him is unbelievable. At times I was generally worried, thinking he won't keep this up. But amazingly, he did. I think directing ultimately comes down to taste in all aspects of what a film is, and the coming together of it. I think Tom Tykwer has got exquisite taste.


The International opens in theaters nationwide on Friday February 13th.

California is officially a complete and total disaster. Our system of government is set up to fail. We have, as a populace, made such amazingly shortsighted and childlike decisions, that we now face economic doom. The death of California began in 1978 with Proposition 13 and has continued on the same... more

California is officially a complete and total disaster. Our system of government is set up to fail. We have, as a populace, made such amazingly shortsighted and childlike decisions, that we now face economic doom. The death of California began in 1978 with Proposition 13 and has continued on the same path of stupidity and greed ever since. Prop 13 set the stage for the Republicans to cut taxes and not pay as you go all across the country. California is what America is going to be, so watch our state’s destruction closely. It’s pretty pathetic.

Prop 13 decreased property taxes 30 percent and created a cap on future rates of increase. I guess the idea was that the state would then stop spending money. FAIL. I remember that year well, because it’s the year I started riding my bike miles to school because the buses stopped. Oh and the junior high school three blocks from my home closed, so I had to ride my bike down a busy street three miles to school, where I enjoyed larger class sizes and mobile home classrooms. Still bitter. Prop 13 then spread like a virus across the US. Within 5 years, almost half the states had passed similar laws handicapping politician’s ability to raise taxes.

Some crazy asshole named Warren Buffet thinks Prop 13 is a bit of a joke.

Sweet.

So, why are other states not suffering as horribly as California? Because we let the people vote to spend money on shit we can’t afford. Our wonderful ballot provision system, which allows the population to pass bonds with a simple majority vote, creates a lot of spending without all those horrible taxes to pay for it. So, politicians have to pay for it out of the general fund, which leads to massive deficits. Think a new drug treatment program is needed? Just get some signatures and throw that fucker up on the ballot. Want more spending for community colleges? Get yourself a proposition. How about rebates for peeps who buy cars that don’t run on gasoline? Get a fucking proposition up in this bitch! It’s been going on like this for years and now we find ourselves paying for proposition after proposition. Some believe the total cost of our propositions is 10% of the budget – which just happens to be the amount of debt we are in. Huh. Welcome to the world of idiots, also known as pure democracy.

During good times, we pass 68% of our propositions, while during bad times, we get all smart and shit and only pass 23%. Of course, spending doesn’t stop when we go from the good times to the bad times, so we basically go ape fuck when the money is rolling in and then have to continue paying for it when it’s not.

Currently, our state government is in a stalemate. Republicans refuse to increase taxes because, apparently, they don’t want the state to pay its bills. The governor has ordered state employees to take two unpaid days off a week and the state is issuing IOUs instead of tax returns and other awesome stuff. Most grown ups realize you have to pay for shit. Republicans disagree. They want to cut spending on everything. You know, like those school buses that were cut and the school that was closed when I was a kid. We should apparently cut more buses and close more schools.

Schwarzenegger came into office because we recalled our last governor for lying about the budget, or some nonsense. Then he made it far, far worse. Since 2003, Schwarzenegger and the Legislature have spent $10.2 billion beyond the rate of inflation. The vast majority of that money was spent on programs Californians want. Which means we should pay for them. That’s how the adult world works, Republicans. Actual state government spending grew at a rate below that of inflation and population growth. The real cost came from voter initiatives and court lawsuits the state lost.

The biggest financial disaster of a ballot measure was the “3 strikes and you’re out” bullshit we passed in 1994. The amount of money we are now spending to keep non-violent criminals in jail for life is ridiculous. Again, that was a proposition passed by a simple majority vote of California idiots, because some local clown in Fresno knows better than a judge.

It’s not all about state ballot measures however. Our dipshit governor cut vehicle license fees as his first act. Total cost? Six billion dollars a year. Nice work. Seriously, that turned out really well, like The Last Action Hero.

This debt was doable during the okay times, but we are past those now. Now we are looking at a colossal disaster because our shockingly retarded system is even more shockingly retarded. The Legislature requires a two-thirds vote to raise taxes. So, a few Republicans are holding a largely liberal state hostage by not allowing us to raise taxes to pay for the shit we voted for. Maybe if we increased taxes, then people wouldn’t be so fucking excited to pass so many ballot measures. Ever think of that, you jackasses? Any state that allows ballot measures to pass with a majority vote, but won’t let elected officials increase taxes without a two-thirds vote is a complete and total asshole.

Yes, I just called the state of California an asshole. Grow up, you pathetic bitch.


FearTheReaper is a writer, actor and stand up comedian. Check back each Tuesday and Friday for more from FearTheReaper.

(image) So there was this kid come in the fucking tattoo shop looking to set up and work for the summer. New Jack. Another one...His name was Jason or Jimmy or something like that. Truth is I don't remember his name. Hell, I never remembered any of their fucking names, or faces either. Couldn't... more

So there was this kid come in the fucking tattoo shop looking to set up and work for the summer. New Jack. Another one...His name was Jason or Jimmy or something like that. Truth is I don't remember his name. Hell, I never remembered any of their fucking names, or faces either. Couldn't be bothered really, not unless they were intelligent or interesting or had that certain something that made them stand out from the vast thundering herds invading the tattoo shop every day looking for work or looking for tattoos...And that was a rare fucking instance, believe me. Maybe one in a hundred, or even a thousand. Who the fuck knows? I couldn't even begin speculating on such calculations at the time. I was mostly way too busy just tattooing them, giving them the mark. Dealing with their need to pick out a fucking design, getting them into the chair, separating them from their trembling, hesitant cash and getting them the fuck out the door, satisfied and fulfilled as quickly and efficiently as humanly possible.

That was the only real goal at Fun City Tattoo anymore. It had earned itself a world famous reputation for excellence as a one-of-a-kind, artsy-fartsy custom design orientated world-class tattoo studio way back in the day. But that day was long gone now. Now it was just another walk in, sit down, get it on and get 'em out the door scene...Old School tactics for New Age Economics...Most of the New Jacks didn't get that. They were still all hung up on the legend, the image, the unsustainable ethics of the thing. Shit. I'd created a monster. And I'd had to kill it and put it out of its misery, legend, mystique, ethics and all. Good fucking riddance.

Now the game was cash and carry tattooing. Most of the New Jacks wanted to resurrect the monster. So for me they were mostly just a notch or two above the average idiot customer. You know the type. ''Last week I couldn't even spell 'Tattoo Artist' and now I are one...''

But I needed a new hand to fill the spot left open when the last new guy spent all his undeserved chump change on crack and ended up in the East River after pissing off some underworld people I may or may not have known... So here's this kid, Jimmy or Jason or whatever standing there. New Jack...Shit. New Jacks. The New Age scourge of the tattoo shop...Risen like mail order Frankenstein Monsters from the ranks of the tattooed. Ahhhh, the tattooed...

It was 1990 in New York City. Tattooing was still illegal and it was a full time job separating those fucking fools from their cash. I knew the boom days were long bottomed out and I just wanted to make as much cash out of whatever was left as quickly and efficiently as possible and get the fuck out of the game. Take the money and run back to Brazil where I belonged. And I was working it hard. I was pretty good at it too. It just took a bit of tact and focus now. Because, like bewildered children on their first day of school, those walk-in tattoo customers mostly just didn't know what the fuck they even wanted. They really didn't know much about nothing, not as far as I could ever tell....They just knew they craved the fucking mark for some fuzzy primal reason that probably only God really knew. And He wasn't fucking saying.

For most of those tattoo shoppers beating the door down with too much money and not enough sense, it seemed as though all concerns for art or relevance or elegance or significance were at best little more than so many fleeting afterthoughts –– if the fuckers ever thought at all. Who the fuck knew?

Some of them could be a real pain though, that's for sure...Especially the goofy thrill-seeking rich college cunts who came in slumming around, shopping for their trendy little badges of hip, slick coolness, their impulsive, narcissistic hormone-driven rites of passage...Those bitches would invariably show up at the shop all clustered together in nervous protective little gaggles, giggling and talking real fast and frantic in shrill demanding tones –– probably to hide their quivering sheep-like trepidation about being there at all...They all just looked like so many fucking clucking little chickens to me. Except for the fact that there was always at least one grossly FAT one among their ranks. The Mother Hen from hell...Sometimes they were all fat. Then it was like the fucking Invasion of the Twinkie Snatchers or something. God have mercy!

And then they all always had to have something "totally original" –– Yeah right...Shit, I'd learned a long time ago that if I ever actually tried to show these sub-humanoid suburban throwbacks anything really original or challenging, I'd be met with those same old blank bovine stares, if not a reaction of pure incredulous terror before they all skated out the door as if I'd pulled out my dick and asked 'em to lick it like a lollipop. Maybe if I'd have just done that some of 'em woulda stuck around for an original tattoo at long last. At least the fat ones...

But I was long wise to their ways. Over twenty years in the chair had taught me that I might as well be selling computer programs to pygmies when it came to talking to walk-in tattoo customers. So I always tried to keep it real simple for 'em...

Ahhhh, but they all always had to be "original". Yep, original...That was an absolute must. Original –– just like everybody else that ever came stampeding in the door of any fucking walk-in tattoo shop in the world...As a whole they were a staggeringly predictable bunch. So I'd learned to steer them straight over to the most common and popular designs on the wall then just suggest a few minor changes of juxtaposition with some other common theme...Or there was always the good old color switch that never failed to make their design appear all "original" and therefore highly personal and meaningful to their idiot sense of retarded aesthetics.

There were several key words that they always loved to hear, words that really got them all revved up and would help to quickly separate the legions of tire kickers from those bold, courageous few who actually really had the tattoo bug, the itch that would give them the courage to shut the fuck up and get their goddamned cattle brand and part with their fucking cash...Key Words like 'freehand', 'detailed', 'fine line', 'delicate' or 'bold' or whatever the fuck –– all depending on the customer's obvious leaning of course, which was usually pretty easy to detect if you paid attention to their body language and so on...

Then it was just a matter of patience, tact and the proper use of those blessed Key Words. That shit never failed to fill the bill for those legions of dimwits...Meaningless little words that magically inspired their immediate undying confidence, enthusiasm and generosity... Always combined, of course with the ever-present assurance that this tattoo was a great and original choice and just happened to be my specialty and my "favorite style'' to work in...Shit I might as well have been repairing toaster ovens or re-soling shoes for the freaks. It was all the same to me. All it ever was to me was, at best the competent application of technical skills you could teach to a smart chimpanzee. That and the sincere desire to do the best job possible by whatever means it took to do so –– even straight up base trickery in order to save those idiots from their own bad taste and boundless aesthetic ignorance. Other than that, it didn't make a shit's bit of difference to me if it was a polka-dotted purple spider, or a crocodile in a cowboy hat riding a moped they wanted tattooed on their silly ass hides for life.

"I like that one there," a girl would say pointing to a design of a butterfly the size of a tadpole, "but could you just change his expression a little, make his eyes more friendly? Give him an expression of whimsical kindness and wisdom?"

What the fuck? The eyes were gonna be the size of an ant's asshole anyway...Are you stupid? I would think. "Of course, darlin'" I would say reassuringly. "I know exactly what you mean. Umm hummm...Yeah, that's a great idea! And it'll really be original like that....No problem!"

Then you'd collect the cash and go in the back and sit at the drawing table and write a letter to a pal in prison or do a crossword puzzle or something, anything to give 'em the impression that you were back there diligently laboring over this great original artistic challenge for the required five minutes or so. Even if there was something good on the shop TV though, you didn't ever want to drag it out for too long after the obligatory five minutes and give 'em the chance to change their minds about the design you'd just sold 'em –– or worse yet to get cold feet and beat it out the door...You always had to keep one eye on the door, always bearing in mind that these people had the attention span, firmness of mind and courage of a fucking housefly...Once they beat it out the door, there was always the lurking threat of them coming back later trying to get a refund. Not that they ever got their money back. But who needed extra headaches?

Then you'd pull the old well-worn stencil out of the file and call them back, explaining that you were gonna make all the original artistic adjustments with a special "freehand technique'' or some shit...And, thus assured she'd finally sit back and let you do your job...The 'highly original, whimsical, kind, compassionate and wise-looking' butterfly or whatever the fuck. Just like you'd done it a thousand times before, using the same fucking stenciled design with no alteration whatsoever to its simple graceful lines and shading...But always with the constant reassurance that it was coming out great...even better than you expected. Key Words...They loved to hear that shit...And when you were done, you'd show them the mirror and ask them proudly how they liked it, as if you could really give a flying fuck, to which they'd invariably exclaim that it was great. Exactly the way they wanted it.

Hey, if it ain't broke don't fix it...Sometimes you just had to try to save the fuckers from themselves. Tactfully and with a good display of confidence. Tact always being defined as: ''The ability to tell someone to go to hell and make them feel glad to be on their way." Just like the little sign said...I'd picked that sign up at a truck stop in Louisiana and hung on the wall over my station there as a constant reminder to me just what the fuck I was dealing with there at Fun City Tattoo. The lowest common denominator. That little bit of truck stop wisdom was a sure fire antidote to any temptation towards Rembrandt-ism in the tattoo shop...

But lately it was a new breed. New Jacks. Rembrandts. I'd seen so many of these New Jack 'Rembrandts' in there actually try to follow the vague instructions of a confused and apprehensive customer...Sitting there for long painstaking hours drawing ten different renditions of the same stupid fly-fucking design. Actually attempting to achieve the nebulous qualities and characteristics dictated by a customer who didn't know his asshole from a Spaghettio, who really only needed some tactful reassurance and a sense of confidence and understanding from the person who was gonna do a tattoo on them... And after all, that's all it ever really took to get 'em in the chair. But noooo....The new kid, Jimmy or Jason or whatever the fuck his name was is gonna be another tattoo shop Rembrandt...I'd sit there quietly wincing as I watched the idiot customers play these New Jacks like pawn shop accordions...Now it was Jimmy or Jason or whatever...And sure enough, soon he was jumping through hoops of fire to try and please 'em on their unsteady, uninformed terms....Unnecessary 'artistic' waste of energy and time, I'd be thinking...

After hours of this painful shit, the customer would finally just get up and walk, saying they wanted to 'think about it'...Shit, bye bye time, bye bye money. Bye bye customer, never to return...

And make no mistake, in tattooing as in so many service trades, time IS money...If you waste it trying to reach for the stars, you can't put the time you wasted back on the shelf and sell it to someone else. It's time and it's gone, never to return...But most of these news guys really thought they were some kinda great artists...Artists in the classical sense...They took all the confused signals of a nervous client simply fishing for a little reassurance literally. Signals which took form in vague and inadvisable artistic requests...These young guns just didn't get it. Shit, these people didn't know or give a rat's ass about art, technique or any of the complex nuances of tattooing where the two elements ideally meet somewhere in the middle...All they really wanted was a little encouragement and positive affirmation, a little psychological hand-job to help them take the plunge and get their fucking mark and, pay up and go to the bar to celebrate their fucking rite of passage....That's all they were after. The MARK. At that point it was up to the tattooer to simply do a pretty good job fast, and make them feel comfortable, putting them at ease with a little razzle dazzle voodoo hoodoo, a little wave of the witch doctor's magic wand...

These new jacks just couldn't understand these folks, that all their vague and uninformed artistic input and pathetic art-directing was really nothing more than a veiled plea to be treated with a human touch and respect for their 'special' 'original' tattoo. I tried to explain this to the New Jacks over and over, this thing about customers. That they just wanted to be led by the nose, like frightened cattle through the spooky process by someone who could pretend that they 'understood' and sympathized with their 'special' status, their individual importance in the process of redefining their fuzzy, confused little self-image. All that through a simple, run of the mill tattoo. But to those customers it was a big fucking deal, a towering milestone in their lives. And for me it was as routine as doing an oil change or playing a game of poker with a winning hand. Somehow the New Jacks just didn't get it. I might as well have been trying to explain advanced physics to a roach on the shop wall...Probably because those New Jacks, like the average customer, thought themselves highly original and special. Shit. Many of the New Jacks thought of me as unethical and cynical. A Dinosaur...Maybe I was. But I had my reasons. I had seen 'em come and go for over twenty years. What was I supposed to do? That's why I just wanted to take the money and get out. Back to Brazil.

Sure there were exceptions to the rules, there's all kinds of people out there, especially in a trade as surreal and unpredictable as tattooing. An art form which, at it's best, always treads a fine line between the sacred creative process and an almost mystical power to affect people's lives profoundly on a deep spiritual level...And of course it's every tattooer's dream to meet up with that truly special customer who instinctively understands this indefinable magic, thus allowing the tattooer to push the envelope and make full use of his technical, creative, aesthetic and artistic abilities.

But what little Jimmy or Jason or whatever the fuck the little New Jack's name was didn't get was that those kinda customers have to come to you...There's absolutely no sense whatever in trying to make every tattoo a gigantic artistic challenge in a walk-in commercial tattoo shop, where no matter how good a rep for quality and work and professionalism the place may have, it's still a walk-in no bullshit place, mostly catering to thundering herds of the idiot masses. Period. Time is money, Bottom line. And the main purpose of a walk-in tattoo shop like that is to simply and efficiently provide a service and make people happy with the results. Next?

And to achieve that there's a lot more at play than razzle dazzle, artsy fartsy, avant-garde experimental tattooing, Especially taking into consideration the fact that, in the average walk-in street tattoo shop, something like 85% of the people who come in the door are just looking for the bloody MARK on their stinking hide. That's it. That's what the tattoo shop is to them...Sure they'd probably prefer a well-made mark to one of inferior quality. But most of the time they wouldn't even have known the fucking difference. So it's a tattooer's job to know the difference for them. And to that end, to be assertive (i.e.; lead them by the nose) and help the average impulsive idiot client just sit down and shut the fuck up and give him the fucking money and then get the fuck out...Sure, you will try to show them their options without alot of pain and mind games and do a good professional well-rendered tattoo of their choice. But if their choice is ill advised from a well informed professional aesthetic viewpoint -- which it usually is in a walk-in shop –– then it's your gig to tell them, "Yeah, of course, absolutely..." etc. and then just go ahead and translate their absurd uninformed notion of what they want –– which would probably look like dog shit smeared on a Persian rug, and give any real tattooer a nervous breakdown if taken literally –– into a feasible and well constructed version of what they wanted. And to do it efficiently...Which does NOT mean spending five hours taking art direction from confused, psychically challenged idiot impulse shoppers.

If these gung-ho new age nerds with overactive egos wanted to spend valuable shop time attempting to carve monuments to their own inflated ego's delusions of greatness (usually way out of proportion to their actual talent and technical abilities) into the quivering hides of the thundering masses who stumbled into the joint looking to get a brand whose personal significance to them far outweighed their desire for any fucking masterpiece of unprecedented dimensions, then the fucking New Jack could go the way of the proverbial starving artist and get the fuck out of my humble and well working full service BUSINESS where the main objective was to generate money while making people happy by doing quality tattoos on them.

Well that's what I was up against as an old school tattoo tradesman in a world where everyone was a fucking artiste. A brilliant groundbreaking creative giant who just hadn't been recognized in the highest regard and thereby rewarded with fame fortune and all the pie and pussy in the sky yet, usually because he was just too fucking great and talented and far ahead of his time. The victim of a cruel merciless world too insensitive to recognize his true genius. Sheee-it...

By the time I got out of the tattoo game and never once looked back in regret, everybody was so special and unique and overflowing with creative genius that it had long become a terrible stigma to not belong to the swelling ranks of self congratulatory creative artists...

Suddenly I wake up one day and find myself transformed into some kind of dirty old cynical dinosaur with a bad attitude. Oh well. I can live with that... Better to move in the shadows then stagnate in the light of an artificial self-made utopia that doesn't smell too classy anyway. So I got out...

So anyway, back to New York City, 1990, Fun City Tattoo and there was this kid. Jimmy or Jason or whatever...Another self-appointed bad boy Tattoo Artist with all the bells and whistles, boy...Got the greased back fifty dollar Rockabilly hair, the practiced slouch, artificial cool, cigarette behind the ear, the works...But who knows, he could be an okay guy, I'm thinking as he stands there in the front room with his little tattoo portfolio, hoping to get the job vacated by the last guy who's smoking crack with the fishes now...Looks to be trying maybe a little too hard...But I let it pass, cause ya never know. You never know, believe me... And where I came from, if it looked like a greaser and talked the talk, chances are it walked the walk...I always got along pretty good with greasers. But that shit was thirty years ago.

Are there any real greasers left? Is this just a fashion statement now? I dunno...Been out of the coop too long. Dinosaur Ville, baby...I live on Main Street, man. Oh Lord. And just when things were looking up. Oh well...Memories. I wish I had a lighthouse inside to keep 'em all from bumping into each other in the dark...




The tables are turned: Shaw gets a tattoo from one of his better known clients, actor and ink aficionado Johnny Depp.



(c) Jonathan Shaw 2009.

Jonathan Shaw began writing as a contributor for the LA Free Press in the late 60s. In the early 70s, he trained as a tattoo artist in Long Beach under the legendary Bob Shaw. He opened his own joint, Fun City Tattoo, in 1976 in New York's East Village. After traveling the world extensively as a tattoo artist and managing editor of tattoo magazines, he retired from tattooing in 2001, moving to Rio De Janeiro to begin his next chapter as a full time writer. His first book, Narcisa: Our Lady of Ashes, is available from Amazon.com.

To read more of Jonathan's writing check his blog at ScabVendor.com.

My new book, Zen Wrapped in Karma Dipped in Chocolate is out now. The nice folks at Borders put an excerpt from the book on-line and you can read it by clicking HERE. I’ll be touring extensively to promote it this year, see below for a link to a list of dates. I want to talk a little about the book. more

My new book, Zen Wrapped in Karma Dipped in Chocolate is out now. The nice folks at Borders put an excerpt from the book on-line and you can read it by clicking HERE. I’ll be touring extensively to promote it this year, see below for a link to a list of dates.

I want to talk a little about the book. Not just to promote it (though I won’t deny I’m doing that), but because I wrote it to address a topic I think is really important. And that is, why we can’t seem to accept good spiritual advice unless it comes from Superman. I already ranted in my last column about how Buddhism isn’t spirituality. But here I’m using the word “spiritual” just to refer to that area of life that addresses the deep questions about the nature of things. It’s convenient shorthand. But everything I said last time still stands.

ANYWAY, there’s a long-standing notion that runs through a wide variety of religious traditions that people won’t listen to good spiritual advice unless the source of that advice possesses powers and abilities far beyond those of ordinary men (and women, of course, but I’m quoting the intro to the old Superman TV show, which was very sexist). Thus it is not enough that Jesus said to love your enemies and advised that he who is without sin should cast the first stone. In order for anyone to accept that good stuff, the folks who spread his message thought we also needed to believe that Jesus had magic powers. I mean, why should we bother treating others the way we want to be treated ourselves unless the guy who said we should could change water into wine? D’uh.

This line of thinking runs through all the world’s great and not-so-great spiritual traditions. Buddhists are not any more immune to it than anybody else. There are hordes of stories of Buddha’s miracles and even of his virgin birth. The only real difference with Buddhists is that, by and large, they don’t tend to give a whole lot of importance to whether or not you believe those stories. In fact several major Buddhist lineages discount them entirely. But that doesn’t mean a lot of other Buddhists don’t believe them or even that for plenty of Buddhists those stories aren’t crucial.

The notion that for a spiritual teacher to be believed he or she must appear to be superhuman still carries a lot of weight even today. Of course, nowadays we’re less likely to believe our contemporary spiritual teachers can really do magic tricks -- though lots of people still fall for the sleight of hand of Eastern fakirs and Western faith healers. Sophisticated, worldly urban types tend to expect their miracles to be a bit more subtle than walking on water or turning into fire-spitting whirly-gigs as the Buddha is reported to have done. But we still expect miracles.

Sometimes we like our guys to be Great Ancient Masters reincarnated right in Beverly Hills or possess psychic abilities and beatific vision. And even when we’re not after those sorts of blatant conjuring acts we still look for people who conform to our image of spiritual purity. Those who are spiritually pure shouldn’t be like ordinary people. They need to be perpetually serene and unaffected, liberated from bodily desires and distress. When we find out that they’re people just like the rest of us we’re liable to rebel and turn upon them viciously. The mechanism by which this happens in Zen is well documented in books like Shoes Outside the Door and The Great Failure. Neither Richard Baker, subject of Shoes Outside the Door nor Dainin Katagiri, the subject of The Great Failure, ever claimed to be spiritual Supermen, but that didn’t stop certain of their followers from reacting with anger, distress and even grief when it was revealed they were not.

Of course someone who advocates a meditative practice ought to show signs of that meditative practice having had some good effects on their own lives. That’s perfectly reasonable to expect. What’s not perfectly reasonable to expect is that those good effects should manifest in precisely the manner we imagine they ought to. We can never know what these people would have been like if they hadn’t done their practice. Furthermore it’s not how meditative practice has affected your teacher that’s important. It’s only how meditative practice affects you that matters. And you are the only one who will ever see the full extent of that.

ANYWAY, the reason I wrote Zen Wrapped in Karma Dipped in Chocolate was, in part, to try and kill the notion of the spiritual Superman for good and all. The only way I felt I could do that effectively was to character assassinate a specific Eastern spiritual teacher. Since I come from a tradition that believes you don’t find the really important truths by looking outward but by looking inward, it wasn’t good enough for me to do what the authors of the books I mentioned above did and pick out someone else as my target. The teacher whose reputation I was to trash had to be me. Admittedly, I’m not a really good example because so few people actually believe that I am any kind of Great Enlightened Being. Those that do are mostly a couple fries short of a Happy Meal.

Still, since I’ve started becoming more popular I’ve seen people react to me in ways that are a little scary. I’ve only been recognized on the street by random strangers a couple of times. But these days when I walk into a meditation center where they know my work, people’s eyes light up in a freaky way and some even seem to cower when I try to speak to them. To these folks I am no ordinary person. I find that kind of reaction difficult to deal with. Some people are starting to react to me in ways that only make sense if they have begun to project something ethereal upon the image they carry of me in their minds. They expect things of me that they would never expect of each other. And that’s unfair.

I didn’t really want to write this book. It’s hard work exposing your worst side to public scorn and ridicule. This book was physically painful to write. I had at least half dozen other ideas for a third book that would have been a breeze to write and would have been more commercially bankable. But this book screamed at me to get it done until I had no choice but to obey.

There was something very deep that could only be got to by digging around in my own guts. In doing so I discovered that even the tawdriest portions of my life are not all ugliness and horror. In fact, much to my surprise I found very little of that. There’s a kind of beauty to the truth that transcends whether or not you find that truth to be pleasant or objectionable. Plus there’s some jokes in the book too.

I wanted to write a book that told the truth about teachers in Eastern spiritual traditions. Because there are still a lot of illusions out there about those of us in this game. The public has been conditioned by the media to believe that teachers in Eastern traditions aren’t like our garden-variety preachers, priests, imams and rabbis. Yogis, Gurus and Zen Masters, we’re told, have this special something called “Enlightenment” that makes them transcend the world of ordinary humans. You can make very good money exploiting that twaddle. There’s even one so-called “Roshi” (i.e. Zen Master) who sells gullible rich people five days in his godlike presence for $50,000 on the grounds that by being in proximity to him they just might get some of this Enlightenment thing for themselves. It won’t happen, so you might as well give the money to me instead!

But just because no spiritual teacher is Superman doesn’t mean you can’t learn a lot through the practice of meditation. I happen to believe zazen is the only way humanity has to get out of the mess it’s in. If I didn’t believe that I wouldn’t bother shouting about it.

In this media saturated age where every person’s sleeziest action is captured on digital video and put up on YouTube for all to see two hours later, there is nowhere left for spiritual Supermen to hide the pulleys and wires that enable them to do their magic tricks. It has become urgent that we kill the idea of the spiritual Superman and start looking at how we can accept good spiritual advice even from people who burp and fart and -- oh my god! -- fuck just like we do. If we can’t do that there won’t be any way we can accept good spiritual advice from anybody.


Brad Warner is the author of Hardcore Zen and Sit Down and Shut Up! and his latest Zen Wrapped in Karma Dipped in Chocolate. He maintains a blog about Buddhist stuff and a MySpace page too. If you're in Southern California and you want to try some Zazen for yourself, he has a group that meets every Saturday in Santa Monica.

To see where Brad will be speaking next take a look here!

Buy the new CD by his band Zero Defex at CD Baby now!

Hello friends and guess what? I went and got myself cut loose from my jobby-job so I could better focus on eating cereal in my underwear, watching stoner cartoons, and having stupid, 10-hour-long dreams in which all the plants in my hometown are missing and I'm way unprepared for an imminent production... more

Hello friends and guess what? I went and got myself cut loose from my jobby-job so I could better focus on eating cereal in my underwear, watching stoner cartoons, and having stupid, 10-hour-long dreams in which all the plants in my hometown are missing and I'm way unprepared for an imminent production of Annie. Nobody wants to hire me to do anything right now, not even make sammiches at Subway (I asked!), so I figure I'll just relax and enjoy my vacation while President Awesome fixes America and everything will be cool again in a few weeks. J/k, I am fucked. At least I still have my irrational commitment to music journalism.

R.I.P. Lux Interior

Clio reported on Wednesday that Cramps frontman Lux Interior passed away last week, and I just wanted to stop and acknowledge the death of one of the last embodiments of punk rock greatness. I've always loved frontpeople who respect that mental third wall and read more as otherworldly creatures than some skinny guy in tight pants who's probably going to walk his dog later; we go to rock shows to be transported out of mundane circumstances. Dude was like a zombie Elvis from hell, and made music more slithery and exciting than anything that's come out since. Of course it's sad that he's gone, but he got to fuck shit up until the ripe old age of 60, which is more than can be said for most legendary punk rockers. I'm pouring some whiskey out for you right now, Lux.

This isn't the best video, but I love his clear affinity for the mental patients:


Live at Napa State Mental Hospital


Lips on the Lam

If you thought a tour of a conservative South Asian country might spell trouble for your favorite band of blues-punk miscreants, well duh. According to their myspace blog, the boys narrowly escaped arrest by the Tamil police and a plot which involved "a mysterious man" and someone who
worked for the band's Indian booking agency by fleeing the country.

In what actually sounds like a relatively tame show for them, guitarist Cole Alexander riled up the crowd by shouting "when I say weak-ass, you say bitch!", exposing his buttocks, tenderly kissing band mate Ian St. Pe, and diving off the stage. For a few days Vice Records had no clue where they were, but publicly stated that they were probably fine. A less exaggerated version of the story appeared on Vice's blog last week, letting everyone know that the band is safe and sound in Germany, working on an EP with kindred spirit in mayhem King Khan. These guys are turning into the rock and roll version of the Road Runner.

Here's some exclusive video of how it went down:




The Pains of Being Pure at Heart

In these strange times of three-second news cycles and blog-based insta-fame, a band can seem like it's been around forever even before releasing a proper album or going on tour. The Pains of Being Pure at Heart is one such band; I've been digging their sweet shoegaze-pop since I first saw them play my friend's house last year, and their debut full-length is finally out on Slumberland Records. They're touring much of the U.S. and Canada in the near future, so you'll have a chance to see what's got everyone so dreamy-eyed. Their music reminds me of hand-holding and agonizing crushes and awkward make-out sessions conducted while my mom slept in the next room, and also sad things like romantic rejection and puppies with casts on their legs. I put at least one of their songs on all the mixes I make for boys I like, and if you buy their albums, you can, too. Maybe you'll get laid! Or just listen alone in your room whilst hugging your pillow (something I have never, ever done). It's up to you.

You can legally download three songs here, and two more here.


Everything With You


Animal Collective=Yes

I know a lot of smart people have already discussed this at length, but the new Animal Collective is way fucking good. As beautifully messy as ever but now with even more pop structure shining through, the album has cracked the Billboard 200's top 20 and is already being hailed as the best release of 2009. If you've got no idea what I'm talking about, now's a better time than ever to jump on the bandwagon, as they're touring extensively, probably to where you live. You can thank me later, once your mind is blown.


My Girls

Also, big props to sofreshsoclean for turning me on to the Frankie Knuckles remix.


Big Moz Strikes Again

I'm not sure what to say. I've gone through my whole life thinking Morrissey's sad, mellifluous voice was unattached to anything so vulgar as a penis, and who knows, maybe it's not. But this picture makes it a lot harder to pretend. Why'd you do it, Moz? You know Rule Number One of our perfect, platonic marriage is we must never see one another's naughty bits. Oh well, I know you all want a peek, so feast your eyes on this (click to enlarge, heh heh). Just know that your imaginary relationship with him will never be the same.


Iran So Far Away

So I just got word that Kyp Malone of the greatest band of our time's side project, Iran, has a new E.P., Dissolver, coming out this month. I'll write more once I've fully absorbed its brilliance, but suffice it to say it features Malone's great pop voice singing catchy tunes swaddled lovingly in that hissy, lo-fi production that made TV On the Radio's early bedroom recordings so beloved.


Hunter is a Brooklyn-based writer currently contributing to Vice, The New York Press, Impose, and The L Magazine. If you email her at hunter.suicide AT gmail DOT com, chances are she'd love to add your publication to that list. Seriously, she's got some time on her hands.