If you’re a highly sensitive purist, DON’T bother withOn the Bro’d: Every Sentence of Kerouac Retold for Bros.It will only sully your palate and piss you off. If you’ve never actually read On the Road, well, you should experience that first, most definitely. Particularly if you are bright-eyed, collegiate (pre or post) and fulla beans. For while it may retain its verve when read at a later age, the classic Kerouac scroll is, first and foremost, a young adventurer’s screed.
But hey, all you crabby old culture vultures who eat sacred cow burgers with zeal and favor the thigh bones of vegan Sarah Lawrence humanities majors for your walking sticks, pull up to the groaning board and dig the fuck in. If, perhaps, you remain secretly convinced that young Jack and pals could have stood to be a bit less self-indulgent, paternalistic, or just plain fuckwitted, this satirical retelling may provide you with nourishing vindication.
On the Bro’d is exactly what the title describes. References to beer bongs, pimps, Axe Body Spray, Sparks, popped collars, bottle service and “Wonderwall” abound. From its official press release (yes, apparently it has an official press release, ugh): “On The Road is an American classic and the seminal work of the Beat generation, but much of it’s lost in translation when read by the generation that goes to the club and then beats.” The as-of-yet unnamed author insists that his reinterpretation is both appropriate and relevant, seeing as the original book was goaded by the “stirring unrest and genius of a generation of bros.” Nnnngh.
Profoundly cynical and relentlessly obnoxious, On the Bro’d will make you weep and laugh and barf for the future of American culture as only a seasoned NYC designer/writer/humor blogger can make you weep/laugh/barf. So enjoy. Or not. Either way, you have my love and empathy.
Neck not supporting head? Eyes won’t focus? Daily grind? Sausage grind? Welcome, sons and daughters. Welcome to the machine. Specifically, the infamous Bagger 288:
0:47 = tragically accurate visual metaphor for the author’s current state.
Yep. An internet classic. When in doubt (or too sleep deprived to think straight), Joel Veitch to the rescue!
Coilhouse Magazine production schedule/deadline hell is once again upon us, like WHOA. We’re deep down in it. And, yeah, it really is kind of like this:
Fondly, and with great empathy, this video is offered for the amusement of the entire extended Curlhaus crew. We’ve all been so busy and stressed. We need a good cackle. Do you realize we didn’t even get a chance to celebrate our Three Year Anniversary last month?! Damn.
So c’mere. Get in on this big impromptu group hug. Everybody, now: interns, managers, editors, contributors, distributors, merch-makers, etc. Everyone who is currently wrangling with some aspect of production, scheduling, design, advertising, financing, shipping, liaising, blogging, or crisis-averting. Everyone who’s ill, everyone who’s overwhelmed, everyone who’s hustling. Hang in there, babies.
Hey, readers? Feel free to get in on it, too. Thanks, as always, for your support and patience. For leaving kind words for us here, on Twatter, on Fartbook, for linking back, for buying merch. For sticking around and standing by when we all inevitably wig out around production time and shit gets a little unhinged. We may all be gnawing our own lips off right now, but we can’t wait to share what’s coming next with you.
What’s 26 inches long, weighs three pounds, and would be immensely fun to lube up and brandish menacingly at pumpkin-smashing, house-egging Halloween vandals, preferably while wearing a bloodstained chicken suit? Why, the World’s Largest Gummy Worm, that’s what!
The precocious online shop Vat19 is currently sold out of all five dual flavors of this 4000 calorie candy, but never fear– they’ll be back in stock very soon. Meantime, there’s always The World’s Largest Gummy Bear.
Comrades! I am shocked, I say. Shocked. To the very marrow of my bones. Not since that degenerate extra of indeterminate sex indulged an urge to oxygenate their crotch fruit on the bleachers during the triumphant final scene of Teen Wolf have I been so taken aback! HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN?! THINK OF THE CHILDREN.
“I’m a little teapot…” By Charles Krafft. As seen on LAShTAL.
Quiver and quail, Thelemites, for Τὸ Μεγα Θηρίον‘s whelping day is upon us. What better way to acknowledge the degenerate rice-cooker than with one of David Tibet‘s crowning musical/lyrical achievements, a magickal rap ditty called “Crowleymass Unveiled”?
File this one under the ultra specific hybrid category of “Can’t believe this actually exists/Can’t stop laughing.” Along with this. Also, this.
