Johnny Cash found me sometime during my second year at varsity and we became pals.

I think the first song of his that I really dug was ‘A Boy Named Sue’. That song strikes a chord with me, if fact any piece of literature, music or film that deals with troubled father/son relationships resounds with me.

Also, the song was fucking badass. Here are the lyrics:

“A Boy Named Sue”:

My daddy left home when I was three
And he didn’t leave much for ma and me 
‘Cept this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Now, I don’t blame him cause he run and hid
But the meanest thing that he ever did
Was before he left, he went and named me "Sue."

Well, he must o’ thought that it was quite a joke
And it got a lot of laughs from a’ lot of folk,
It seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I’d get red
And some guy’d laugh and I’d bust his head,
I tell ya, life ain’t easy for a boy named "Sue."
 
Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean,
My fists got hard and my wits got keen,
I roamed from town to town to hide my shame.
But I made a vow to the moon and stars
That I’d search the honky-tonks and bars
And kill that man who gave me that awful name.

Well, it was Gatlinburg in mid-July
I’d just hit town and my throat was dry,
I thought I’d stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon on a street of mud,
There at a table, dealing stud,
Sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me "Sue."

Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
From a worn-out picture that my mother’d had,
And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old,
And I looked at him and my blood ran cold
And I said: "My name is ‘Sue!’ How do you do!
Now your gonna die!!"

Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes
And he went down, but to my surprise,
He come up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear.
But I busted a chair right across his teeth
And we crashed through the wall and into the street
Kicking and a’ gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer.

I tell ya, I’ve fought tougher men
But I really can’t remember when,
He kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laugh and then I heard him cuss,
He went for his gun and I pulled mine first,
He stood there lookin’ at me and I saw him smile.

And he said: "Son, this world is rough
And if a man’s gonna make it, he’s gotta be tough
And I knew I wouldn’t be there to help ya along.
So I give ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you’d have to get tough or die
And it’s the name that helped to make you strong."

He said: "Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn’t blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya gut and the spit in ya eye
Cause I’m the motherfucker that named you "Sue.’"

I got all choked up and I threw down my gun
I called him my pa, and he called me his son,
And I came away with a different point of view.
And I think about him, now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win,
And if I ever have a son, I think I’m gonna name him
Bill or George! Anything but Sue! I still hate that name!

I love it! ‘I knew you’d have to get tough or die’ – classic! ‘Kickin and a gougin in the blood and the mud and the beer.’ That’s the only way to fight.

That’s what real fights turn into, just watch UFC Fighting – in most fights, they’ll go to ground and the one guy will try and squeeze the living shit out of the other guy, or just pummel him in the head as hard and often as possible and THEN pop his shoulder out of its socket.

But anyway, I digest.

What was today like? How did it begin and how did it progress from that point? What did we learn from it? How will it be remembered 20 years from now?

Will it be remembered 20 years from now? Sure it will

I jumped like a jack-in-the-box out of bed at 9:25 and started furiously cleaning the flat. Landlord was coming over to do something or other he’s had planned for a few weeks now. Without getting into too much detail, it involved steel skirting brackets, hot glue and waterproof silicone putty.

I just kinda looked on in confusement, but not for long. Landlord usually has these things all figured out and he doesn’t need any help, so I don’t offer any. Instead I knuckled down and got in some solid game-time with Torchlight which is a must for any Diablo fans out there I mean, it was developed by a few of the team that actually worked on Diablo so it’s got a really cool look and feel and for $20 it’s really worth it.

Ok, how was that? Nailed it? The sales pitch, nailed it? Damn straight I nailed it

Meanwhile, outside the sun shone like nobody’s business, hot and clear, not really a breeze at all. Fuck, it was a perfect summer day. Leaves shone above us, the heat shimmered, the sun felt like it was filling me up, like I was a battery charging.

Fuck, the minute I’m on leave and it’s sunny I’m heading up to the pool to chill to the max. You guys can come too, but bring your own booze and LSD. You aren’t allowed any of mine, remember what happened last time? Yeah, exactly.

J-Rab and I had the funniest fucking Christmas Shopping outing at Design Quarter. Like I said yesterday, I’ve pretty much finished up the Christmas shopping for my folks, the only thing left to get were these Maxwell Williams mugs my old lady wanted.

I saw them at a Boardman’s yesterday and thought they were pretty average so I decided to get Ritzenhof mugs for her instead, hence the trip to the Design Quarter.

We parked out in front of the DQ, in the hot sun and walked down the parking lot toward the shops. As we got near the end of the parking lot we both saw this kickass huge ad on the side of the Nike store there with a golfer crouching and blowing fire and while his buddy hits a ball through it on a golf course at night time.

I must admit, I was pretty entrance by it, but not quite as much as J-Rab who walked right into the curb. I just heard this abrupt scuffing sound and felt her grip my hand tight as she stumbled and then was like ‘I’m cool, I’m cool’ as she went back for her flip flop.

I laughed my ass off and she was a little embarrassed, but I said, ‘Fuck it, it’s not like the place is completely packed FULL of people or anything."’

Of course, it was packed to the rafters, hahaahah!

Then we find that Ritzenhof moved away probably over two years ago. Fahk! Luckily J-Rab said to just walk around and see if we could find another place that sold mugs like that and what the fuck did we find? A Boardman’s in Design Quarter, a MASSIVE one!

They had way more variety when it came to these Maxwell mugs so we found cool ones for my old lady.

After that we noticed a whole bunch of upmarket food stalls had been set up in the centre courtyard and went to take a look.

There was this really cool honey stall that we made a bee-line (fuck, read that last bit slowly, yes, I just did that) straight for. When we got there, the lady behind the stall gave us these short yellow straws and asked us if we wanted to taste the honey.

She had part of a honeycomb there, dripping with the stuff, so we dipped out straws in and tasted some of the raw honey and damn, it was sweet and rich and good.

As J-Rab was tasting, the wind blew the corner of the tablecloth up so she carefully pulled it down again not realising that one of the small glass pots of honey had gotten stuck and tumbled gently down in the fold of the tablecloth.

To J-Rab’s credit, she caught the pot before it fell and broke on the ground, but by then about a third of the honey inside had dribbled all down the tablecloth and was already making it’s slow and syrupy way toward the floor.

She quickly put the honey pot back on the table and apologised, laughing nervously. The couple standing next to us looked on mild horror at the gloopy mess of honey, I laughed, ‘I swear to God, you can’t take her anywhere!’

J-Rab and I laughed and bought the nice honey lady’s mead ever though she wasn’t phased at all. Good stuff that mead actually, it’s called Honey Sun mead and damn! It’s worth every cent of the 85 bucks we paid for it.

We had lunch at the ‘rents after that and swam a little, nothing too amazing to report there. After that we came home and had a nap and now I’m banging this out and watching Die Hard 2, which is such a killer movie and definitely the best part of Christmas every time it rolls around.

John McClane – that man is the best kind of action hero. So many others have fucked up both the genre of action movies and the heroes themselves, but good ol’ McClane was the original and Bruce’s portrayal of him is totally flawless.

He’s so cool because he gets fucked up. He makes fuck ups, by the end of all the movies, he’s cut up, punched up and shot up but he just doesn’t fucking die. Just like the name says!

But now it’s time to knuckle down and saw a couple logs.

Later party people

-ST

If you read hear a lot, then you probably know that a lot of my blog posts are things that I’d filed away and was aware of but hadn’t really shared with anyone. With an introduction like that, of course this post is one of those. The subject of this 39 Clues post is who is Aunt Beatrice’s detective?

Remember when in the books, they casually slip away that Aunt Beatrice has hired a detective to find them? Well, I had always thought that it was the Man In Black, otherwise known as Fiske Cahill. I will not get into it here, but a page about why this is so is under construction at the moment. Fiske was the sister of Grace and Beatrice, and he mysteriously disappeared in the 1960’s. He is the Man In Black.

Since the Man In Black is a Madrigal, he would obviously make the perfect detective, especially since he is very closely related to Beatrice. However, I think that she hired a detective of a different purpose; to reach a goal. The goal is not to find Amy and Dan, but we all know from e-mails in our 39 Clues inbox and cards that the Madrigals need the Cahill siblings to follow a certain path. Beatrice might have actually wanted Amy and Dan to go for the hunt, and that is why she provoked them into doing it, although on the outside it looked like she was persuading them not to.

This may or may not be true, but I think that the evidence certainly increases in the following quote for book eight by Gordon Korman (believed to have the title of The Sacred Found, although there is no proof):

“As the race to find the 39 Clues builds to its explosive finish, Amy and Dan must steal a Clue guarded by thousands of the world’s best soldiers. With their enemies closing in, the siblings are separated. Together, they almost have a chance, but alone…Could the search for this Clue spell the end of Amy and Dan? And while they are separated, could their Aunt Beatrice’s detective find them?”

This sounds very flimsy, and there is no grounds that this excerpt is true, although there is a similar one from Amazon, just without the part about the detective. It’s just a guess, although it sounds like it could be likely, or at least something similar.

The Man In Black has had multiple chances to capture them, but it’s obvious that the Madrigals are waiting, from evidence that again, I’ll get into in other places.

There is not sufficient evidence, although it seems the most likely since there really are no other candidates. So, what do you think?

After watching the movie “walk the line” with a friend of mine, I’ve been thinking. Wow, what a bitch Johnny Cash was. God forbid, he’s a good man, by all means, he fitted perfect for the time period, but what would he be if he grew up in the world of today? He’d be just like the Norwegian singer “Sissel Kyrkjebø”.

Which is a person well famous in certain groups of people, but she’s just for particularly interested beings. 

Thus, it’s rightful to say that he does not deserve his fame. Especially after his death. He would have been labeled as emo, partially due to his depressing and dark themes in his songs, but mostly because of his “life is worthless” attitude and/or constantly black clothing.

He started playing in a band back in Memphis (since all great music comes from Memphis; Ref: Elvis), Tennessee, the man in black signed for the same label Elivs had signed for years before him. But before he could sign for Sun, the music label, he presented gospel music. Tragically enough, rumor have it that the producer: Sam Phillips told him to go home and sin, then come back with a song he could sell. But Cash refused to confirm the allegations against his old producer in the interview in 2002.

Even before this, he married Vivian Liberto in Santi Anne’s catholic church, only to file for divorce 12 years and 4 kids later, due to Mr Black’s constant alcohol and amphetamine abuse, constant touring and affairs with other women. It seems that he’s a really good guy, or is it just me? Let us backtrack, the year is 1950’s early 1960’s, where Christianity (conservatively) ruled as a general “moral code” in USA.

By the time he released his most famous songs; he was 27, married, 4 kids, and soon to be divorced. As he carried on into the 60’s he got an even worsening image, during the late 50’s his addiction started to spiral out of control into a problem that he soon could not keep hidden. Publicly notice came in 1965 where he were arrested in El Paso, Texas for trafficking narcotics, but the charges was laid of as the nature of the drugs was prescription amphetamines hidden inside his guitar.

He went on to driving his career into a halt around the 1960’s where his drug addiction was at his worst, creating a few “concept albums”, but nothing that really matter in the general opinion. The same period he parted with his Vivian Liberto, due to his worsening addiction and destructive behavior. Thus, after a highly (drug induced) Christian experience in the Nickajack Cave where Mr. Black wanted to “just lay down and die”, he came out a new man, throwing his addictions behind him and begin a new life.

In 1968, two years after divorcing his former wife, he remarried with his career long companion June Carter, co writer on the song Ring of Fire.

After following years, he began the 70’s with a world that was moving to fast for him and people began to loose interest after the song “Man in Black” aired and found it’s place with the number one badge for over 20 weeks on the top twenty in the country.

After this there’s just not been much to say about Mr Black, other than what I think; What an ass. After this brief  explanation of his career, it’s obvious that this is not what we would like to show our kids as one of the greatest people in history, is it? It’s like putting Lady Gaga’s Love Game on a “Hits for kids”.

Oh wait. We have…
(Ref; Hits for kids 22, if I remember right.)
But that’s for another post.

Point is, I don’t understand that we wanted this much moral decay in a time that stood for the Christian values that should provide a deep moral ground for the youth at the time? Since it’s pretty much the same story with both Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis. Sadly.

Sincerely
Ole H. Berg

Summary:
The first in King’s epic, Tolkien-like Dark Tower series, The Gunslinger introduces Roland who lives in a world similar to, yet different from our own.  He is the last gunslinger, a kind of wild west type warrior.  As he pursues the Man in Black across a desert in the first of many steps toward his goal of the Dark Tower, some elements of his dark past are revealed, as are some secrets of the many parallel, yet somehow linked, universes.

Review:
I admit it.  I’m not normally a Stephen King fan, but after two people I know started devouring this series, I decided I had to know just what was so exciting.

I’m shocked to discover, I like a Stephen King book.  I’m not so shocked to discover that this is an incredibly male book.  Roland’s life centers around violence, guns, a quest, the women he beds, and taking care of a boy.  It isn’t just the plot line that’s masculine though.  The writing style is decidedly male.  Roland is abrupt and to the point.  Instead of talking about his heart fluttering, he gets hard-ons.  Instead of his palms sweating with nerves, his balls retract up tightly against him.  It’s gritty, dark, and male. And I liked it.

It reminds me a lot of watching old westerns with my father.  This shouldn’t be surprising, since in the introduction King essentially says that he set out to write the American version of an epic in the style of Tolkien. What’s more American and epic than the wild west? Oh, I know, a parallel universe version of the wild west. With mutants.

It is a bit slow-moving at first.  That’s not surprising, though, given that it’s the first in a series of seven.  Think of it as the introduction chapter, only prolonged through two-thirds of the book.  It’s not a boring introduction by any means; it just takes a while to get attached to the characters and thoroughly engrossed in the over-arching story.  That’s ok though, because King provides plenty of nightmarish scenes in the mean-time to keep you reading.

I’ve always had a bit of a tendency to thoroughly enjoy more masculine stories just as much, if not more than more feminine stories.  (I was the little girl who was excited to watch the war movie marathon on Veteran’s Day.)  If you know that you enjoy this type of gritty story, definitely give The Gunslinger a shot.  You won’t be disappointed.

4 out of 5 stars

Source: Borrowed

by Ditch Tillery

I arrive at The Tilted Lampshade, a peculiarly nice hotel in the heart of Small Town, USA. The man in black leads me to a room on the lower level. Inside, there is a rather large cake. I’m given a chance to clean up before being instructed to get inside it.  I suppose I’m supposed to be naked, but last minute, I put on some raggedy clothes from my knapsack to achieve a little personality.

I lay in fetal position, preparing for several minutes of complete darkness. The cake is effortlessly wheeled through the corridors and into an elevator.  The air grows increasingly stale as we rise to the exclusive, generally vacant, floor. Ding, like a kitchen timer. The elevator doors open. My time is coming. I’m wheeled at a deliberately slower pace. The wheels make no sound, and I can no longer predict the time of my arrival. I hear knocking. “Enter” says the woman’s voice from the limo ride. The door opens, and I’m wheeled inside.  I sense the man in black depart. The woman sings Happy Birthday to whom I find out is Mr. President! In hindsight, I should have guessed, but never would I have believed it to happen on my first night as a runaway. The song ends, and it’s time for me to make his wish come true. I pop out of the cake.

Audio recording of the First Lady, played for Ditch Tillery in a limo en route to a hotel in Small Town, USA

Listen carefully. I’ve asked this agent, who I trust with my life, to provide me with a secret service and to answer your prayers of desperation.  Tonight, you will be paid handsomely to perform, not to speak. Pay me no regard as I watch you fulfill the wishes of my husband.  I want you to take him places and do the other things.  Serve him, for my body has grown too old.  Secrecy is paramount. Anonymity is for your own good. Do not inquire about compensation. I’ll reward you after a good night’s sleep, just before we part ways. The man in black will provide you with instructions from here on out. You have no say in the matter. You’ve chosen a dangerous road, and the mother in me won’t let you wander it alone, not tonight. Now, do as the man says.

“Hello down there!  Slow going?” – Inigo Montoya, Princess Bride

Slow going down here in the blog world.  I have two book reviews to post, and a blog written up about laughter, even one about football. 

“This is not as easy as it looks.” – Man in Black, Princess Bride

My blog is published on two different host sites: Blogger and WordPress – neither of which have been cooperative recently.  Blame might be shared by my own laptop and internet provider, as well.  And when I have been on my computer, late into the nights and early mornings, my work has been directed towards by business, the one linked on the sidebar here but rarely mentioned.  It has a new name, new look, and even some new products coming just as soon as I can get the pictures taken. 

“I don’t suppose you could speed things up?” – Inigo Montoya, Princess Bride

Three years ago I started this business, hoping to learn a lot about business and accounting without going to school, needing something to do with the extra money I had lying around, and of course wishing to earn enough income to stay home full time.  Self-discipline is something I can do, but only with encouragement.  And sometimes, when things are just too hard, I actually need help. 

“Throw me the rope.” – Man in Black, Princess Bride

Some of my good friends have been encouraging me lately.  They also have their own business.  We had a long talk about believing in our products, about wanting to make sure that we’re not selling junk, but to be willing to settle for marketing goods and services that won’t revolutionize the world.  My brother asked me why I think people should have what I’m selling.  Questions like that make me think, and usually when I think, I get answers, which turn into the blurb about each item that appears on my website. 

Assistance has come in concrete ways, too.  Several of my friends have advertised for me and referred acquaintances to my business.  The friends above are going to print my government-regulation-required care and contents tags.  And my brother even offered to help with some HTML for my webpage. 

“I do not mean to pry, but you don’t by any chance happen to have six fingers on your right hand?” – Inigo Montoya, Princess Bride

One of the other goals for my business is to build relationships with customers (thereby changing the world – I just can’t escape that motive!).  Sometimes all it takes is opening the conversation, however unexpected or odd. 

“I’m not left-handed either.” – Man in Black, Princess Bride

Running a business is a risk.  Putting my creativity out in the world for judgment is scary.  I could lose money.  I could waste time.  But there is power in the unexpected.  That’s what I’m trying to offer on my website.  For sale is an eclectic supply of handmade and home-designed accessories that are unlike anything the rest of the marketplace has to offer.  Some taglines I’m using or toying with are: “Mi~Re~Do: Reviving Declining Melodies” and “Buy Mi~Re~Do.  Tilt your perspective.”  By thinking through the practical and aesthetic worth of my products, I’m trying to change the way my customers think about – and live – ordinary life. 

“Get used to disappointment.” – Man in Black, Princess Bride

Still, it’s been three years, and though I’ve sold several items on Ebay, and ventured into Etsy, I have almost zero client base.  I have designed several business cards, and been too timid to hand them out.  Marketing is nonexistent.  And my room is overrun with unsold inventory. 

“I’d just as soon destroy a stained-glass window as an artist like yourself…” – Man in Black, Princess Bride

Artists and dreamers cannot be kept down.  We will keep creating, used to our disappointments but pushing forward anyway.  Companies will succeed because they persevere where others failed, and offer goods that others don’t.  When Buttercup cried, “We’ll never survive!” on the margins of the fireswamp, Westley the eminent business coach countered, “Nonsense!  You only say that because no one ever has.” 

To God be all glory,

Lisa of Longbourn

Country hit machine pays tribute to the Man in Black and the Man Upstairs

LIKE A BOTTLE OF Heinz ketchup on a diner counter, a George Strait album is a reassuring product. Cameras & Camcorders At fifty-five, dude’s spent his life making fairly low-bullshit, high-yield mainstream country: Since 1981’s Strait Country, his LPs have gone platinum or better thirty two times, and the four-CD anthology Strait Out of the Box has shifted 8 million units.

That’s a lot of Resistol cowboy hats, pardner (although thanks to his endorsement deal, Strait no doubt gets ‘em free). Radar Detectors Troubadour is up to the usual standards, maybe better. There’s witty, swaggering honky-tonk (“Make Her Fall in Love With Me Song”) and the requisite hot-fiddle swing number (“West Texas Town”). “House of Cash” is a rock-edged duet with Patty Loveless about the blaze that leveled Johnny Cash’s family home last year. Moving tribute or pop vampirism? Depends on your taste for sentimentality. Car Security & Remote Starters Ditto the hit single “I Saw God Today,” which is so disarmingly plain-spoken and deftly universal, only the most hard-boiled atheist could beoffended. It’s one example of why folks call Strait “King George” – although this monarch is a uniter, not a divider.

Today’s book is Ring of Fire: The Johnny Cash Reader, edited by Michael Streissguth.  Hardcover published 2002 by Da Capo Press.

Published a year before his death in 2003, this anthology offers 32 classic articles by American music writers on Johnny Cash, covering fifty years of the Man in Black.

‘Johnny Cash is a living icon, one of the defining country musicians of the century and patriarch of a clan that rules as country royalty.  He was also a hard-living firebrand whose air of danger and rebellion made him the godfather of the bad boys of today’s rock and rap — and has garnered him an immense audience across generations, selling more than 50 million albums and winning ten Grammy awards.  Ring of Fire is the first book to explore Cash’s life and work through essays by some of the best music journalists — Ralph Gleason, George Vecsey, Richard Goldstein, Alanna Nash, Nick Tosches, Jon Pareles, and Ben Ratliff, and from Cash himself.  Whether dispatched in the heat of Cash’s meteoric rise to fame in the ’60’s or looking back from the vantage point of his recent musical resurgence and phenomenal new albums, these writings reveal the complex soul of an American legend.’ — from jacket flap.

In the following excerpt from the book, an inmate describes Cash as he appeared at a 1973 concert for prisoners at Leavenworth:

Cash is a big man.  He has the huge shoulders of a weight lifter or professional fighter, and he has a boxer’s narrow hips.  At Leavenworth, he wore a black Lincolnesque coat over a turquoise sport shirt.  His dark hair was combed straight back in a pompadour and hung down over his collar.  Narrow-legged black trousers made it seem that most of his weight was centered high up in his V-shaped torso.  His shiny black, high-buttoned shoes with western heels raised him to over six feet in height.

But it wasn’t his size or his costume that captured and held everyone’s attention — it was the look on his face and the sound of his voice.  Cash is real.  He has a bad cough and smokes too much.  So did most of us who had come to see him.  He has a look of suffering caused by a hard life and years of one-night stands in forgettable paces.  We all had pasts we didn’t want to think about either.  …  Johnny has an empathy, a sympathy and an understanding for prisoners that would be difficult to counterfeit. — from ‘When Johnny Cash Visited Leavenworth’, by Albert Nussbaum, Sunday Gazette Mail [Charleston, West Virginia], 1973, included on pp. 77-82 of Ring of Fire: The Johnny Cash Reader, edited by Michael Streissguth.

* * *

Also currently in stock at BrainiacBooks.com:

Stars of Country Music: Uncle Dave Macon
to Johnny Rodriguez, edited by Bill C. Malone and Judith McCulloh

Grateful Dead: The Music Never Stopped, by Blair Jackson

* * *

If you are interested in more particulars about the Book of the Day or any of our other featured books, search our store at BrainiacBooks.com for the title.  If the book is still in our stock, you’ll be taken to the page for that title.

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El viral no es un invento de Internet, ni de los publicistas, ni de la ciencia. El comportamiento viral es algo que nace del hombre. De la necesidad de repetir determinadas cosas, de hacer lo que otros hacen, de vivir lo que otros viven, de ver lo que otros ven, de sentir lo que otros sienten.

Cuando la Potota le cuenta el cuento que le contó la Chicha sobre la Chola, o cuando un estadio repleto de gente repite el oioioio de un cantante, eso es viral.

El caso que vamos a ver ahora es bastante particular ya que lo que realmente se viralizó no solo fue el video en si, sino, las reacciones de las personas al verlo. Lo que se viralizó fue la gente.

Reacción 1. Abuelita.

Reacción 2. Man in black

Reacción 3. Los Marines del ejercito de EEUU.

A continuación el video que provocó todo.  ¡Antes de verlo no se olviden de prender la cámara para filmar su reacción y sobre todo asegurarse de que sus jefes no estén mirando el monitor.

http://www.flurl.com/video/5496822_comments.htm

Como siempre estos casos lo levantan los medios. Reacción de en un capítulo de Stewie de “Padre de Familia”.

La frutilla de la torta.

Para finalizar, gracias Doctor Juampi por el pique para este post de Martes. Si alguien sigue el ejemplo de la rana René está bastaaaante jodido.

As the “Biggest Shocker” of the year HERE!

Obey 'Johnny Cash A Heartbreak And A Guitar' Edition of 450 Size: 18 x 24 Inches $50 Each

Here is the latest from Obey, this print is paying homage to the Johnny Cash it is called ‘A Heartbreak And A Guitar’ Personally I think Shep should’ve followed the J Dilla color theme for the Man In Black!! This one is as ugly as the McCartney’s. Will this one be available in blue as well?!!! Any way, really who cares? This 18 x 24 inch print with an edition size of 450 and they will cost $50 each. They are available sometime on Tuesday May 19th, 2009

Have a look to: –> Men In Black 3 in 2011

Men In Black 3 in 2011

Well it’s been a while a comin’ but finally the Man in Black is back and he’s STILL HURTIN’. Featuring, the late & great Johnny Cash, a sprinkling of Sissy Spacek samples and some additional instrumentation by this self-confessed melancholic.

Oh yeah, don’t forget to watch the video cut, and remember first cut is the deepest!

Adios Kimosabis

still-hurtin [MP3]