Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Black Metal Coffee Table Book

Given my love of Norwegian Black Metal and all, my friends Matt and Dale both e-mailed me today about this new photography book by excellent Brooklyn photographer Peter Beste. I already own a poster of the photo above that hangs over me as I type this (I actually had to buy a proper upright cross to hang in my apartment to offset the pure blackness this poster is kicking out without even trying) and I'm really excited to own this book once it comes out next week. Lest we forget, however, long before this book or Metalocalypse or anything else really, I was still already the King of Black Metal. And you know what? I'm still schooling motherfuckers on that shit.

Dave Hill

Hair Apparent

My friend Jake sent me this picture of him and his new haircut yesterday. I don’t think it would be right for me really, but I’m really glad he has it. That way I can point at him and stuff. No, I’m just kidding, I won’t point at him (though I was seriously thinking about it for a second). Needless to say though, Jake’s haircut serves as a big kick in the nuts to all those pathetic fauxhawks still out there.

Giving things a historical perspective, Jake has pointed out to me that his haircut is inspired by that of professional wrestler Road Warrior Hawk (above, but I’m guessing you figured that one out on your own). Beware of men in tights, especially this one. He seems irritable.

And in keeping with this theme of shirtless men with sometimes questionable judgment, thanks to my friends at Shelf Life Clothing, I happened upon the above video of Glenn Danzig showing off his book collection or- more specifically- showing off “just part of” his book collection while shirtless and bathed in what appears to be the glow of flames at midnight. He is a man before his time.

Dave Hill

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Incredible Show at Comix TOMORROW April 30

Attention People of New York City:

Must type fast. The Kinko's lady is being a major A-hole today. Anyway, I just wanted to remind you one last time that TOMORROW- which is to say Wednesday, April 30- at 8pm, I will be walking out onto the main stage of Comix, the Meatpacking District's premier house of consensual good times, and kicking off what should prove to be the greatest thing to happen in this town since the Gates. I am of course talking about my futuristic and one-time only extravaganza known in the Scandinavian press as Dave Hill's Festival of Sight and Sound and Other Stuff Featuring Dave Hill and Some Other People Too. I strongly encourage you to attend, like, for real. Aside from whatever unstoppable tricks I may have up my sleeve, I will be joined tomorrow by some of the most incredible show business professionals in North America, including but necessarily limited to the fresh-faced John Mulaney (Comedy Central, Conan), the puckish Dan Mintz (Comedy Central, Conan), the scrappy Larry Murphy (Assy McGee), the irascible Joe Mande (ECNY Award Winner, dammit), the winsome Laura Krafft (Colbert Report), the at-times-violent Meredith Scardino (Colbert Report), the saucy Dan Dratch (Man Show, Monk), and the downright vulgar Phil Costello (King of Miami, DH Explosion, COTU, Satanicide), who will be singing the hits. I should also point out that this show will be the last comedy show I will ever perform, since- starting May 1- I will be committing myself 100% to dance and nothing but dance. No, I am just kidding. I am not quitting comedy for dance (though dance will remain an interest). See? That is just one example of the kind of jokes and such that will be taking place at the incredible show I speak of in this e-mail. I really hope you can make it. You can get tickets here. Type in the secret discount code of HILL430 and you, the reader of this e-mail, will save five dollars, which is great. Okay, I hope to see you tomorrow. It would mean so much to me. Also, I am dying. No, just kidding again. I am not really dying. That is a joke. File under: more where that came from. Seriously though, I am a walking miracle. I could go at any time.

Your friend,
Dave Hill

Trucknutz and Other Topics of Great Importance

My friend Leeza sent me a link to this website for Trucknutz yesterday. As you can see from the photo above, Trucknutz are fake testicles you can hang from the back of your truck. That way people will know you are driving a boy truck, you know, because it has testicles. I have neither really thought much about buying a truck- until now that is, a time when buying a truck so I can slap some fake testicles on it is pretty much all I can think about.

Trucknutz (not to be confused with Trucknuts, which are a totally different thing) come in a bunch of different colors, including blue, green, red, camouflage, brass, and flesh-colored among others, so it’s not hard to find the perfect set of fake truck testicles for you and your on-the-go, truck-with-fake-testicles-having lifestyle. The Trucknutz people sell Bikerballz too. As hinted at in the name, Bikerballz are testicles for your motorcycle. That’s just silly to me though. Whoever heard of such a thing? Testicles for a motorcycle- now that’s just dumb.

In other news, my friend Gary sent me the video above earlier today. It’s of planes flying into the Kowloon side of Hong Kong. As a person who has totally been to Hong Kong before (November of 2001, they were pretty much giving away plane tickets back then, you know, because of the towers), I can tell you that it’s pretty wild how close to the buildings and people those big jets come when they are coming in for a landing. If you ever get the chance, you should totally go to Hong Kong, especially if you like Chinese food. They have seriously good Chinese food in Hong Kong and it’s, like, everywhere.

Dave Hill

Sunday, April 27, 2008

Venom Speaks

Since I am really into Satan and also really into heavy metal, I happened to spend a little time watching assorted Venom videos on YouTube this weekend. For the uninitiated, Venom is a band from Newcastle, England who are pretty incredible in at least nine or ten different ways, probably more even. They are credited with inventing black metal and pretty much don't mess around as far as being a really Satanic heavy metal band goes. When I was a kid I remember walking into a record store and picking up a copy of Venom's "Welcome to Hell" album and thinking to myself "Wow, these guys are pretty serious about being into Satan." To be honest, I was actually kind of afraid that something bad might happen to me if I held the album in my hands for too long. They were that awesome. A year or two ago, my friend Kristen and I went to see Venom at Irving Plaza and man that shit was good. Kristen had never been to a Satanic heavy metal concert before and she really seemed to enjoy it. It's always nice to turn a friend onto really Satanic heavy metal when you can. They will thank you for it. Trust me.

Anyway, during my Venom video-watching session this weekend, I stumbled upon the interview (in two parts) below with the band from the mid-'80s, when they were at at the peak of their Satanic heavy metal powers. They also had pretty great hair. What I really admire about these videos is how much you can tell these guys are really committed to what they do. Whether you are really into Satanic heavy metal or not (but let's hope you are), you can really learn something from Venom. The main lesson here is to give it your all in life. Next time you are unsure of what to do in a particular situation, ask yourself "What would Venom do?" The answer, of course, is to kick as much ass as possible. And, hey, if you be seriously into Satan too while you're at it, all the better. There should also probably be a guitar solo at some point.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy these Venom interviews. They are really something.

Dave Hill

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Video Tuesday: Teenage Fanclub, "Ain't That Enough"

Here is a video for "Ain't That Enough" by the seriously underrated Teenage Fanclub, who are really Scottish. It's a really good song for driving around, eating snacks, running errands, banging (just casual banging though, probably not, like, crazy banging or anything), pretty much anything really. I really like how just when you think the band is done introducing new and catchy parts to the song they go and keep doing it again. I'm glad they did. I hope are too.

Dave Hill

Monday, April 21, 2008

File Under: Do Not Even Get Me Started On This Topic

I guess we all saw this coming but- as of this writing- it is officially official: I have now seen everything. I stumbled upon (which is to say "actively sought out") this fun photo at, the Internet's foremost cute animal website. As you may have guessed, this is a photo of a raccoon walking into someone extremely lucky person's house on its hind legs. I'm not sure if it's a wild raccoon or the kind that people (none that I know of, however) keep as pets. If it is a pet, I am pretty sure its owner must be running around saying "My pet raccoon thinks he's a person. No, really, he really thinks he's a person. Here- I'll show you" to pretty much anyone who will listen. Really though- can you blame them? If I had a pet raccoon that could walk on its hind legs I would pretty much never shut up about it.

Dave Hill

Attention Citizens Of The Internet

Recently, my friend Carlen recommended that I install Sitemeter onto this here blog as a means of tracking traffic to my blog and whatnot. I thought it would be interesting to find out where people are coming from (via the magic of the Internet) to read this page or- at the very least- stare at it blankly before deciding to go look at something more interesting, so I was all over that shit.

After installing the futuristic Sitemeter program, I was surprised to find that people (or at the very least computers) from all over the world are viewing this page. This is exciting on one level, but on another level I am kind of thinking there's no way someone in, say Turkey for example, could possibly be actually reading my blog. Instead, I figure some computer program in Turkey or Bulgaria or Egypt or wherever is somehow trolling the Internet and stumbling upon my blog while making its daily and futuristic rounds. I am not really sure how to figure out whether or not it's actual humans reading my blog (though I do realize there are a fair amount of actual humans who read it and- if you are one of them- I thank you very much for doing so. Seriously, you are the best. I would like to make you a delicious sandwich) other than to just ask people (meaning you, for example) to maybe write me at or leave a commment in the comments section here and tell me where you are located and how you happened to find my blog (and also maybe tell me what you are wearing). You don't have to, of course. I am just curious and also- clearly- a very lonely man who is totally sitting here in his apartment with not a whole lot going on at this very moment so I just figured I'd ask. Who knows- maybe I will decide to send baked goods to whomever actually e-mails or leaves me a comment. I said MAYBE. I do make a mean deep-dish Saltine jubilee though. So brace yourself. Gosh, this is kind of a sad entry, isn't it? I better go now- I have to send off some helium balloons with a letter attached to them. Tomorrow I am throwing a message in a bottle out into the sea. You get it.

Dave Hill

The Magic of Bob Welch

This past weekend, I was listening to one of those music channels on cable television, the really high-numbered channels that play only music and don’t show any incredible programming. It was on the ‘70’s channel and after a few minutes “Sentimental Lady” by Bob Welch came on. I hadn’t heard the song in over twenty years I’m guessing and had pretty much totally forgotten about it, but when it came on that part of your brain that locks up old memories just opened wide up and I was all like “Oh, man, I totally know this song.” And then I remembered how Bob Welch had a bunch of other really great songs too, so I hopped on the computer and started digging those up- songs like “Ebony Eyes,” “Hot Love, Cold World,” and “Precious Love.” That Bob Welch could really crank ‘em out.

For the unitiated, Bob Welch was a member of Fleetwood Mac in those leaner years after Peter Green and Jeremy Spencer left. Bob played guitar and sang with the band from 1971 to 1974, when he quit from rock-n-roll exhaustion or something. Then Mick Fleetwood asked some guy named Lindsey Buckingham to replace Bob in the band. Lindsey agreed to join the band on the condition that his girlfriend, a pretty young thing by the name of Stevie Nicks, could also be in the band. No one is really sure what happened to Fleetwood Mac after that.

Anyway, above is a video of Bob performing his hit “Ebony Eyes” with Fleetwood Mac at a big concert in California a long, long time ago. I guess he decided to visit his old bandmates and meet the new members while he was at it. There were probably snacks backstage too. And by “snacks,” I mean “drugs.” Especially entertaining is the interview at the beginning of the video featuring actor Jeff Conaway asking Bob Welch, Mick Fleetwood, and that Stevie Nicks some tough questions on life as current and/or former members of Fleetwood Mac. It’s hard to watch the video without yelling at Jeff through your computer screen to totally not become a drug addict and go on that stupid “Celebrity Rehab” show, but you really shouldn’t bother. It doesn’t work. He is still totally on that show. Still, I hope you like this video. And, Bob, if you’re out there, thanks for the sweet tunes.

Dave Hill

Friday, April 18, 2008

Dave Hill’s Festival Of Sight And Sound And Other Stuff at Comix Wed. April 30

Attention People of New York City:

This is your man Dave Hill writing to you with some seriously important news. On Wednesday, April 30 at 8pm, I will be taking the stage at Comix, the Meatpacking District's premier house of good time fun, and presenting to you the most exhilarating night of entertainment this town has to offer outside of The Color Purple. I imagine you are assuming at this point that I am referring to my critically-acclaimed one-man chat/variety juggernaut the Dave Hill Explosion. However, you are mistaken. No, this time around I am talking about a little something I like to call Dave Hill's Festival of Sight and Sound and Other Stuff Featuring Dave Hill and Some Other People Too, a/k/a a rare and exciting opportunity to see me and some of New York City's most talented and bangable comedy professionals perform in a room where you can also enjoy slow-baked Atlantic salmon, caramelized banana cake, and a mysterious after-dinner drink known as the Hot Kiss Goodnight among other delicious and reasonably-priced items I challenge you to resist.

Rather than launch into some lengthy description of what the show itself is all about, I instead ask you to simply think for a moment of the Blue Angels, the popular Navy flight demonstration squadron. Formed in 1946, the Blue Angels consist of a rotating team of unstoppable fighter pilots who take time out from the grim realities of battle to perform incredible feats of naval aviation for the amusement of the general public, sometimes just a few feet above throngs of people who may or may not be hallucinating from a toxic mix of cotton candy, cheese fries, and thick-as-molasses jet fumes. Similarly, I ask you to think of my show on April 30 as one brave warrior descending from the sky- not unlike the young Icarus in his bold yet botched flight out of Crete that we still talk about to this day- to delight and amaze the people of this town. Unlike the wily Icarus, however, my descent from air will be intentional and arguably even more incredible (though admittedly the whole thing he and his father did with the wax and the wings was really pretty great and something even I would not attempt unless hammered). And when I show up at Comix I will make almost no mention of King Minos, a man Icarus- by all accounts- would pretty much not shut up about.

Joining me on the eve of April 30 at Comix are some folks with whom I am honored to share the stage- hot young things like John Mulaney, Laura Krafft, Joe Mande, Larry Murphy, and Dan Dratch, all of whom have MySpace pages. Also- due to provisions outlined in a contract I signed under duress- my man Phil will be "in the house" (to use the language of the streetz) that night too.

Given the incredible amount of entertainment that will be coming your way that night (and also because I have personally seen to it that the slow-baked Atlantic salmon will be available throughout the performance), tickets for this show of shows clock in at $15. I know, you’re all like "What?! Last I checked my name is not Donald Trump, the popular real estate magnate and reality show host, thank you very much." But before you go leaving your house to kick me in the nuts, please know that you can get tickets for just $10 (a discount of approximately five dollars) by getting tickets in advance at and entering the incredibly secret discount code HILL430 when prompted by the spirit of the Internet. Ten bucks- that's not so bad, right? Did I mention the mushroom and roasted garlic dip? They have that stuff there too. I really hope you can make it. You can totally get tickets right here. Come- won't you? Won't you?!

Dave Hill

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Thai Monk Tattoo

My friend Bob is a cop and clown in Cleveland, my native city. Bob and I first met in high school when he tried to charge me money to get into a party at a friend’s house when the friend in question’s parents were out of town. I refused to pay Bob’s made-up entry fee and we have been friends ever since. To this day, he remains one of the nicest and scariest people I have ever known.

Recently, Bob went to visit family and friends in Thailand and Singapore. One thing led to another and next thing he knew, Bob was in a Buddhist temple getting a Thai Buddhist protection tattoo from some Buddhist monks who were totally in the temple (a popular monk hangout). The tattoo is only given to people the monks consider to be warriors (e.g. cops. I am not sure if Bob’s clown status would have been enough) and is meant to protect them from getting messed up by assorted weapons (i.e. guns, knives, hard candies thrown at extreme speeds when you least expect it). It’s pretty cool. You can get the full and admittedly more academic scoop here. Video documentation is above.

Bob is a warrior and he also has an incredible mustache. I am proud of him for those and other reasons. You also get to see him with his shirt off in this video, a treat for the ladies. I hope you enjoy it so much.

Dave Hill

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

On Soaplands

Recently, during my ongoing and tireless research on various topics of great importance, I stumbled upon an article on the Internet about “soaplands,” a type of Japanese brothel where men can and do take baths with prostitutes. Now, before I go any further let me just say that I know what you’re thinking- Dave is totally planning a trip to Japan so he can take a bath with a Japanese prostitute. And while I do admit that that does sound pretty awesome on at least five or six different levels, it is simply not the case. For starters, I am generally opposed to the idea of paying for sex (at least with actually currency anyway). Jesus hates it and I can’t imagine those goodbyes getting any less awkward over time, so- for now anyway- I will continue living the whore-free lifestyle, boring as it might be. Also, the soaplands of Japan don’t let foreigners in anyway, so it was never really any option for me unfortunately.

Anyway, as the story goes the soaplands came into being as a way of getting around the not-so-strict prostitution laws of Japan. Japanese law defines prostitution as the commercial offering of genital penetration in exchange for money. This does not include anything that might take place within the confines of a “private agreement” between a man and a woman nor does it include sticking the donger in someone’s mouth or butt or anything else that people might do that might require them to have to take a bath at some point. As a result, the soaplands are able to operate without the cops getting too worked up about it, which, of course, is really great news for Japanese guys who like to take baths with prostitutes.

As far as what actually goes down at the soaplands, well, it’s pretty much all kinds of stuff apparently. For example, the Wikipedia article on the topic includes this particularly interesting passage: “After warming his body in the bath, the client then lies on the air mattress while the companion covers herself with liquid lotion for lubrication. Then she slides her body up and down client's body and brushing his body with her pubic hair. This is called ‘awa odori,’ or ‘bubble dance,’ and its form of eroticism is considered to be of the highest quality.” I feel like this last bit might have been written by whomever answers the phones at the soaplands. Still, needless to say, they had me at “bubble dance.” Keep up the good work. It has been noted.

My favorite soapland fact has to do with how the name itself came about. Apparently, soaplands used to be called “toruko-buro”, an awesomely phonetic translation of Turkish bath. Then one day a Turkish person by the name of Nusret Sancakli got all worked up about things and started some sort of newspaper campaign bitching about Japanese women working in Turkish baths (It remains unclear whether Nusret preferred an all-Turkish staff or whether he was just against naughty stuff in general). The word “soapland” was the winning entry in a nationwide contest to give the brothels a new name. That last sentence is incredible on a number of levels. For starters, let me tip my hat to the people of Japan for having a nationwide contest to rename brothels in the first place. If that’s not a fine example of how you keep things fun, well, I guess I don’t know what is. The name soaplands isn’t too shabby either. Me- I would have gone with whorebaths, but admittedly that name doesn’t have any of the theme park connotations that soaplands has. It seems like it would be really hard not too have a good time at a place called “soapland.” Unless, of course, you don’t like taking baths with prostitutes, in which I don’t know what to tell you, pal. I suppose you don’t like Halloween or Bastille Day either. It’s been nice knowing you, Mr. No Fun!

Dave Hill

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Killer Molasses

I was speaking with fellow show business professional Dan Allen today on the topic of Postum, the elusive coffee substitute invented by cereal magnate C.W. Post and made available to the public from 1895 to 2007 (the year its production was controversially halted due to what insiders are calling “a shrinking demand”). As is often the case when one finds himself in the midst of a Postum discussion, the talk eventually turned to molasses, one of Postum’s primary and no-longer-secret ingredients (the others being bran, wheat, and corn dextrin). And it was during this talk of molasses that Dan hipped me to the Boston Molasses Disaster (or “Great Molasses Flood” as it also sometimes awesomely known), arguably one of the top nine or ten molasses-related disasters the New England area has ever seen. The year was 1919 and it was a wild scene to say the least.

As the story goes, the people of the North End neighborhood of “Beantown” (as it is known to “some”) were just going about their business as usual on January 15th of that year, exactly one day before the ratification of the 18th Amendment (which, of course, prohibited alcohol production and- ultimately- public groping and fun in general), when shit got seriously crazy all of a sudden. For as long as anyone could remember, the Purity Distilling Company had been maintaining an extremely large molasses tank at 529 Commerce Street. The tank held approximately 2,300,000 gallons (which is to say several shitloads) of the sticky sweet goo and on that fateful day it burst, sending mammoth waves of molasses (reportedly 8-to-15 feet tall, which is generally unheard of in molasses circles) raging throughout the streets at speeds up to 35 miles per hour (again, an extremely impressive molasses-related statistic) and with a force of 2 tons per square foot (I’m not sure what this means really but it certainly doesn’t sound good).

As you can probably imagine, when a couple million gallons of molasses is sent hurtling through the streets at such girth and velocity, well, nobody wins- not even the most diehard of molasses fans. By all accounts, molasses went everywhere, covering everything and everyone in its path. Horses, dogs, humans- no one was spared and pretty much no one had even guessed that their day would involve being bitchslapped by the gooey brown sugar cane byproduct. Author Stephen Puleo, who witnessed the whole grizzly yet delicious debacle, described it like this:

"Molasses, waist deep, covered the street and swirled and bubbled about the wreckage. Here and there struggled a form- whether it was animal or human being was impossible to tell. Only an upheaval, a thrashing about in the sticky mass, showed where any life was.... Horses died like so many flies on sticky flypaper. The more they struggled, the deeper in the mess they were ensnared. Human beings- men and women- suffered likewise. Anthony di Stasio, walking homeward with his sisters from the Michelangelo School, was picked up by the wave and carried, tumbling on its crest, almost as though he were surfing. Then he grounded and the molasses rolled him like a pebble as the wave diminished. He heard his mother call his name and couldn't answer, his throat was so clogged with the smothering goo. He passed out, then opened his eyes to find three of his sisters staring at him.”

I find it’s hard to stay mad at a confectionary of any sort for very long, but on that infamous day in 1919 the people of Boston added molasses to their collective shitlist for a long time to come and with good reason. By the time the whole thing was over, approximately 150 people were injured and 21 people were killed altogether (easily the largest molasses-related death toll the city of Boston had ever known). Doctors and surgeons were forced to set up a makeshift hospital specially for the purpose of treating the many victims’ painful yet delicious wounds. And it took over 87,000 man hours to clean up the sticky brown mess. Needless to say, any time anyone in or around Boston so much as mentioned the word molasses after all that they were met with dirty looks, the gnashing of teeth, and the occasional shake of a fist in the air coupled with the fistshaker in question saying the word molasses out loud with marked disdain.

They say if you walk the streets of the North End neighborhood of Boston on a hot day, you can still catch a whiff of the killer molasses in the air. And naturally, it’s on these days most of all that the locals find themselves once again grappling with the “What the fuck happened?”-ness of it all. Some say the molasses tank burst just from having so much goddamn molasses in it. Others blame faulty rivets. Still others point their finger in the direction of foul play. The one thing they can all agree on, however, is this- molasses sure is tasty and even fun a lot of the time, but just not when there’s so damn much of it. Man, that shit was crazy. Seriously.

Dave Hill

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Dave Recommends

Since I am a person who likes things (e.g. God’s creatures, candy, the early works of Slick Rick, etc.), I thought I would weigh in today with a couple things I have been liking lately. My hope is that you will be moved to investigate them yourself and maybe even end up liking them in a manner not unlike how I like them. Then next time we meet you can totally be all like “Gosh, we really do seem to like the same things, don’t we? It’s a shame we didn’t meet sooner really. I mean, I just can’t leave Danny now, can I? Who will change his bag?” Then I will probably be all like “’s a shame. I guess we’ll always have the Port Authority men’s room though, won’t we?”

Anyway, the first thing I am totally liking today is the new album by Ginger from the popular rock band the Wildhearts, which is called “Market Harbour.” That is a picture of the album cover above. You should go buy it on iTunes or in a record store if you know where to find one. Ginger’s record is full of catchy rock music of the rock variety that is totally Dave-approved. Plus, he has cool hair, which is half the battle. Ginger is playing at Piano’s on Ludlow Street every Thursday in April. Go check him out and maybe I will run into you there and we can have that conversation referenced in paragraph one of this entry.

In other news, my friend Linda and some of her friends have started a granola company called Three Birds Bakery, which is giving a big “Fuck you!” to those corporate granola overlords who have been running the granola game for far too long now. I probably don’t need to tell you this, but most store-bought granola will kill you. More importantly, however, Three Birds granola is seriously good. You can buy it at Brooklyn Flea. Buy some Three Birds Bakery granola as soon as possible and take back the night on those corporate granola fucks over at (insert name of large cereal conglomerate here) once and for all! Also, you will have a nice breakfast, which is great for everybody as you will be happier and easier to deal with as a result.

Hmm, what else? Oh yeah, I was talking with my friend Beowulf a few days ago about the paintings of Robert Williams, founder of Juxtapoz magazine and dude-who-is-pretty-fucking-sweet-in-general. I feel like I haven’t seen Robert’s work around much in the last few years, but dammit I still really like it. It’s graphic, fun, sexy, gross, funny, and just enjoyable to look at in general. Some call it lowbrow art. But isn’t that the best kind really? Sometimes when you stoop really, really low, you find yourself on top in the end. Just ask Jesus. He totally partied with whores and vagabonds and we still talk about him to this day.

Here is something else that is totally popular for a reason:

Dave Hill

Saturday, April 05, 2008

Sexy Furniture

My friend Leeza sent me this inspiring story about a man who was caught having sex with a picnic table. We all have needs but I tend to think this is pushing it a little bit. Fingering a picnic table? Sure- I could totally see that. But fucking a picnic table- that's a whole other thing. I should point out that the picnic table above is not the same kind of picnic table that the man in the story was caught banging though. I guess without seeing the picnic table in question, it's hard to say for sure whether or not I could keep myself from banging it. It may have been an especially sexy picnic table and if so I really can't blame the man for totally banging it. Generally speaking, however, I tend not to have intimate relationships with furniture. I got a handjob from a recliner once, but I was drunk and regret it (slightly) to this day.

Dave Hill

Friday, April 04, 2008

Jedi Lessons

Fridays- am I right? Anyway, if you like the popular movie Stars Wars (or any of the other movies related to the popular Star Wars movie), Jedis, light sabres, the Internet, videos, Internet videos, me, flowing gowns, or just looking at your computer in general, then you should totally watch the video above in which I take Jedi lessons from a Jedi master because this video totally has all of the stuff that I just mentioned and then some! I hope you enjoy it so, so much.

Dave Hill

R.E.M. On The Colbert Report

R.E.M. was on the Colbert Report a couple nights ago and it was seriously great if you ask me. The fifteen year-old in me was really excited about it and the older guy typing this now is still pretty excited about it. I like rock music and these guys are totally good at it. The interview is really funny too. I can't believe Peter Buck lets the other guitar player dude play the main riff in "Supernatural Superserious" though. I would be all like "No way, dude- I get to play the cool guitar riff. You're not really even in the band! I mean, I don't mean to be a dick about it, but come on- I'm frickin' Peter Buck, goddammit!" Then again, Peter Buck is a classy guy. I admire that he takes the high road, even in matters of rock. It has been noted.

Dave Hill

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Dave Recommends: A Book For Stoners And Those Who Totally Love Them

I am not a stoner myself (I know, not that there's anything wrong with that), but my friend Shirley Halperin is and the new book she wrote with her fellow former High Times editor Steve Bloom (also presumably a total stoner person) has totally got me thinking about becoming a total stoner so much that it's not even fucking funny. I mean, I probably won't just because everyone always thinks I'm stoned all the time anyway for some reason and I'm not sure if I want to find out what would happen if I were actually stoned all the time (Who's got that kind of time when you're trying to take over the world?), but either way their new book "Pot Culture: The A-Z Guide to Stoner Language and Life" is fun to read and look at and (I'm guessing) sit around and smoke pot in the presence of (yes, I know it's bad to end a sentence with the word "of." Shut up! Imagine what crazy grammatical shit I would be breaking out if I were all stooooooned, you god damn stoner!).

NOTE: I realize you might be thinking at this point that I am just promoting this book because my friend wrote it and to that I say "Fuck you! You cynic!" Wait, wait, that's too harsh. Why am I yelling at you? You seem so nice and you're here, here reading my blog, something that wasn't even possible not too long ago (back in the '90s).

Anyway, for starters the book has a cool cover (above). It will look nice sitting on your coffee table, nightstand, or toilet (basically wherever you might want to keep a book, it will look seriously good there). Also, it will let people know that this whole pot thing isn't just some "phase" or whatever. This book lets people know that you are in it for the long haul. You bought a book about it for chrissakes! It is a regular part of your life. It's like if tennis great John McEnroe bought a book about tennis or if I bought a book about banging hot chicks all the time or something- it just makes perfect sense.

Anyway, this book has a forward by Tommy Chong (the Chong in Cheech and Chong, arguably the most famous stoners of the 20th century), blunt-rolling lessons from the popular rapper Redman, and even an interview with the elusive Matthew McConaughey, the greatest actor of our time. I argue with confidence that no other publication of any sort has ever had these three things in it at the same time. In short, this book is from the future. And statistically speaking, you are probably on drugs of some sort so I really have no understanding of why you wouldn't buy this book. In fact, if you don't buy this book fuck you! Now you've really gone and pissed me off. You are totally lucky you're not sitting in my apartment right now because I would totally kick you in the nuts if you were (unless you were a woman, of course, in which case I would simply tell you I liked your hair much better before you cut it or something. I would never physically hurt you. I am a classy guy).

For more info on this book of great importance, go here. And with any luck, when this book goes into a second printing they will totally quote me from this incredible review, which is why I would like to close with the following: This ain't your mother's book about pot! (See how I did that? I am an infinitely quotable human being. You're welcome).

Dave Hill

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

The King Of Miami: Totally Cancelled, But Still Watchtable On The Internet.

Hello again. Well, unfortunately I write today to confirm rumors that have been swirling around the Scandinavian press for some time now- my wildly popular television program "The King of Miami with Dave Hill", which has thus far been coming to you in the futuristic high-definition format on the popular Mojo Network, has officially been cancelled. Yes, cancelled. Now just let that sink in for a moment. Okay, anyway this news comes as quite a blow both to me and the roughly five to six loyal viewers of my incredible television program (You know who you are and I know who you are and- dammit- I thank you for your viewing dedication) who stuck with me through all six spine-tingling episodes. The good news though is that you can continue to watch episodes of my incredible program on Hulu, a futuristic web portal that most people can't even handle. I urge you to go there now and start watching my program while thinking to yourself "Are you fucking kidding me? Someone actually cancelled this program? What kind of world do we live in? Honey, hand me the knife- I am going to fucking kill myself." But wait, hold up a second- don't kill yourself. Mourn the death of my incredible television program, sure, but don't do anything crazy. I will be back on television again soon (I promise you!) with another equally if not even more incredible yet obscure television program in the very near future (meaning before either of us dies. Okay, well, maybe before I die). You're welcome in advance. I'm just trying to do my part.

Dave Hill

Hi there. I should have mentioned this earlier, as in a few weeks ago, but there is a futuristic, music-centric new site here on the Internet called Fuzz that you should totally check out like a motherfucker. Not surprisingly, I am associated with the site in an official, futuristic capacity. So is Captain Sensible. Anyway, go check it out right now or I will lose my shit. Click here now.

Dave Hill

Plague-Like Symptoms And Other Topics

I am battling plague-like symptoms today, mostly brought on by alcohol abuse, sleep deprivation, and walking around with wet hair. I say this not to be all like “I am totally a guy who parties a lot and doesn’t sleep and is always walking around with wet hair.” To be fair, though, I guess I could say that and it would be fairly accurate, at least compared to, like, some old guy who doesn’t party and sleeps a lot with dry hair and stuff. The important thing though is that- despire all of the above- my hair still looks incredible. Honestly, I don’t know how I do it sometimes.

I’ve just returned from a “business lunch” during which I ate some salad that featured some smoked chicken and apples and stuff. I had originally thought to order the roast chicken but then called an audible at the last second and got the salad. It was a mistake. The smoked chicken tasted almost like smoked salmon. I guess it was the smokiness I was reallly focused on and then just started thinking about salmon for some reason and then it was just too late to turn things around. I like smoked products and I tolerate salmon, but the moral of the story here is to go with your gut. I should have had the roast chicken.

In other news, last night I did the popular Cavalcade show at the UCB Theatre. The show was hosted by the great Tony Camin and featured me, Australia’s Tim Minchin, and the lovely Jacqueline Novak as the featured performers on the show. I had never seen Tim perform in person before and I thought he was really great and super funny. He is doing a show at the New World Stages in Midtown for another couple weeks and I am totally going to check that shit out. You should too or I will kick you in the nuts.

Jacqueline Novak was excellent as always too. I hadn’t seen her in a while so I was really happy we were on the bill together. There are some nice pictures of the show here. You like pictures, right? Go look at them. I mean, hey, why not?

Hmmm, what else? You heard about the towers, right? I still can’t believe it. I hate you Osama Bin Laden!

Okay, nap time.

Dave Hill