Steady Clappin'

Is this Rihanna’s great grandmother? There’s really no difference between this and Lil’ Jon.

I know only two things about this video. 1. It was made by Mr. OIZO. 2. It’s incredible for reasons I’m not sure of.

When people finally recognize my God-given talents of jazz hands and Arby’s roast beef sandwich consumption and I become Chancellor of the World, I’m going to rename this season Blue Balls. Nice sunny weather today? BAM. Too bad. Tomorrow it’s going to snow. Spring is such a prude. All I want to happen is to prematurely esummerate. See what I did there? Sorry mom.

To help hold us perverts over, listen to this song and imagine that you’re driving the lead in a flying V of a scooter gang on your way to a party where everyone loves you and can’t wait until you get there.

Delorean // Stay Close

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So. Good. FY, Marcello Mastroianni.

I just love this photo. That’s all. The talented Oscar Falk shot it in 2006, so that means it’s like 700 internet years old. Whatever. You don’t pay me to be current. In fact, you don’t pay me at all.

I want to live in Alex’s world. It has such current sensibilities and composition but with this amazing retro aesthetic. Classy and decadent. Is that possible? There are these sexual undertones as well—the way the shots are framed and colors used. I’ve never wanted to get my hair did, put on my two piece, and hop in a hot tub full of women more than I do right now looking at that photo. (Not that I don’t regularly do that anyways. Tuesday night is me and my girlfriends’ Gossip Girl Gala. Alex Prager is invited next week to document.)

Read more, nephew.

First, I came across these paintings by Lucong. Then I gasped and dropped double stuff Oreo crumbs all over my keyboard. They’re that good. The Oreos and the art. I wish I could paint like this. It’s striking work. The subtle little details—I love how she bites her lip just so. I need to get my hands on a print. Or seven. Gorgeous.

Read more, nephew.

Some of the best things in life consist of layers. Literature, painting, cinema, fall fashion, filo dough, etc. This Caribou track is no exception. Daniel Snaith does a rad job of making his vocals build and come alive. And is that a clarinet in the beat? Gimme dat. There’s this Native American vibe to it all. I’d rain dance to this forever. Or at least until my legs got tired. I’m not superman, ah-ge-hyv.

Caribou // Leave House

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