provisional year-end list
#1. The first half of the song that my kid’s toy phone plays when you open it up, sung to the tune of “Frere Jacques,” lyrics as follows:
Someone’s calling, someone’s calling
On my phone, on my phone
Maybe it’s a cow
We’re headed toward Pueblo, south of Colorado Springs, where he spent some time a few years ago. … When he works a place like Pueblo, he starts by networking. Stops at a shooter house to buy a dark and light (a mix of brown and white heroin), sees if anyone has any grenades or C-4 or other explosives to sell. He spends a lot of time in parking lots, Arby’s, Wendy’s, Burger King, back by the Dumpsters, where the action is.
He tells me to check out the Urban Dictionary definition of Pueblo if I want to know what we’re getting into. “An infected anal hair located in Kebo’s ass,” reads one. “The most bars per capita, highest teen-pregnancy rate, drug-dealers, beaners, and straight-up shitty rating in the western United States,” reads a more sober version.
Oh cool, my hometown features as the scuzzy backdrop for a GQ story about the ATF’s fake hitmen. I’m pretty sure the Loaf’n’Jug where this guy gets hired to disfigure a woman’s face is the one where I always ate lunch in high school.
Anyway, kids, dream big, perhaps someday YOUR racist Urban Dictionary description of a town can wind up cited in a glossy magazine and make readers wonder whether the author realizes what “beaners” means…
how they finally let Sky Ferreira make a new-wave record
I wrote a feature on singer Sky Ferreira for this week’s issue of New York. Spoiler alert: I’m kind of a fan! Her particular frustrations as a person and the unlikely way her album finally got recorded make for some pretty fascinating music.
"The problem with dating people," she says, "is that you have to go a few months before you can even say to them, ‘Look, if we’re going to do this, I need you to watch at least seasons two through five of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.’ And then that’s a lot of TV, you know? I can do a condensed version, but it’s still a lot of episodes to plow through. And then you push through all that, and everything’s good, but a little while later, what happens is: you break up. So you wind up standing at a party like this, looking across the room at three different perfectly attractive and charming men, none of whom have seen so much as a single episode of Buffy, and you’re like … I just don’t have it in me to go through this again.
"That isn’t a metaphor," she says, "for, like, developing intimacy with each other. This is literally a Buffy-specific problem for me."