This isn’t even so much funny as it is adorable and heartwarming. It’s not like I ever considered Josh Homme and Nick Swardson as a couple before, but now that I’ve seen it I just want it to be real life so badly. Just a couple badass dudes bro-ing out playing Xbox and making out at ESPN Zone. They deserve no less than each other.
Thanks Facebook, I could not more deftly summarize 2014.
Does anyone else see this?I could not focus through any of Craig Wayne Boyd’s performances because all I could think was, holy shit, it’s Chaz fucking Dean. The perfectly blown out, glossy, male Farrah Fawcett hair. Chaz Dean has a permanent soft, manageable, and tangle-free spot in my heart after his many appearances on the greatest show of all time, Flipping Out. In one episode Jeff Lewis asks Chaz how he explains the presence of the homeless person squatting on the property to his clients, and Chaz tells him the story of how when searching for the location of his salon, he found this woman named Spirit on the property and took it as a good omen. In a twist ending Spirit dies and Jeff finds out Spirit was actually a man, but Chaz and his entire staff have been telling people he was a woman because it garners more sympathy.
Jessica posted a retrospective on our adventures as teenage music journalists over at Jessica of Suburbia, if you are yearning for a deeper understanding of us. She even posted a picture that I was not aware existed of our first website layout, and damn, my love of grunge fonts will never die.
In eleventh grade when I wrote for my high school newspaper I got screwed into writing an article about our Battle of the Bands. I had serious interests in being a music journalist which were largely fueled by the movie Almost Famous and Sarah Lewitinn. This was not how I intended to pursue those interests. Unfolding almost exactly as I pictured it would, I described a completely uninspired high school band as metal. I really wanted to describe them as nu metal, but I was trying to be kind. The morning the papers were delivered, I got approached by this “band’s” “frontman” in fourth period Russian History and informed, in the most indignant tone possible, that they were not metal, but in fact proto-punk-seventh-wave-prog-rock.
From this second on, I have never wanted to be a music journalist. I figured if high school bands were this big of assholes, any musician that ever received a shred of positive reinforcement must be a fucking nightmare. The genuinely famous and/or talented seem to (confusingly) be nicer and less delusional, but God knows you’re going to be dealing with this Satanic middle group most of the time.
So that’s why I hate writing about music.
Last night in my continued Buzzfeed Video YouTube binge, I got recommended this music video. I almost never click on recommended music, because it is almost always a thirteen year old girl singing country music with heavy Christian imagery, and I WILL NOT BE TRICKED AGAIN THIRTEEN YEAR OLD GIRLS, but this drew me in:
Holy shit I am fucking in love with this girl. She instantly reminded me of music’s power to creep you the fuck out. I felt like I was a teenager watching the music videos Chris Cunningham directed for Aphex Twin, or the screeching descent into chaos that is Veruca Salt’s Shimmer Like a Girl, with a dash of Jamie Lee Curtis’s weird, sexualized virgin in Halloween. I had forgotten how much I missed that feeling.
I can’t help but think this is what all those black-lipstick, upside down cross loving, pseudo-junkie teens are going for, but Meg Myers actually delivers. With music. In a pair of sneakers.