What should our next party be like?

Here are some examples of documented party lifestyles. Be sure to note the underlying themes of tits, drugs, alcohol, violence, music and tits.

I found them. I finally fucking found them.

That's fucking grit. If I learned anything from this, it's stick to your guns bitches. You can do anything if you try.

For those of you out of the loop, I'm talking about Potty Mouth Sissys and their ever-elusive song Road Head.

You know...that one song I've been bugging you bitches about for the past 3 weeks.

They're Detroit based, so I was right the first time. (Second guess was Cleveland. Fucking fucked up leaky stations and Leamington's weird ass reception nabbing all sorts of signals...locating a song is like an audio version of Where's Waldo, it pisses me off.)

POTTY MOUTH SISSYS

Thanks to Adam and Wade for their support, and various other WSDTites for helping me find this motherfucker...even though you guys didn't come up with scratch, I still appreciate the valiant effort. You've truly proven yourself as a team.

- Vlad

The Truth

Dear Alec Balwin,

I normally don't do things like this, but the time has come for me to express my concerns regarding you. I fucking hate you. 

This hate is not the "Oh, it's Alec Baldwin, I don't like him." It's more like "Hey [at this point, my eyes are already watering and vomit is rising in my throat] it's Alec Balwin, he's a cocksucking, motherfucking, huge dickhead, and I honest-to-God hate that bastard!"

At one point, I had no true feelings for you, Mr. Baldwin. However, in the year 2000, you changed all this. Actually, this started way before the year 2000. In all honesty, it started in 1945. You see, there was this thing, and it was called "World War II." After World War II, they arrested all the bad men, and had trials for them and there trials are most commonly known as the Nuremberg Trials. During these trials, an American prosecutor and some other people (I won't mention who, because I really don't think you could comprehend anything more difficult) tried these bad men, and in the end they were given the death sentence.

Now, let's fast forward back to 2000. In that year, you decided to act, if you can call it that, in a film, aptly named Nuremberg. You played that American prosecutor I mentioned earlier. And you know what? You fucking sucked at it. You were so bad at acting that it has since made me hate you. I hope you never act again, and I hope you don't ever get the chance to fuck Tina Fey, because if you do, I just might hate you a little bit more.

I saw this movie in my grade 12 law class and laughed through most of it. In the end, they could have just let you act in front of the bad men, and they probably would have killed themselves just so they didn't have to put up with anymore of your bullshit. 

Please, stick your Emmy up your ass.

Yours until Niagra Falls,

Kristopher Gaier

PIECEMEAL VOL. 1

PIECEMEAL VOL. 1

Music is a lot like food. Sure, we don't need it to survive, but we need it to live. It's like the difference between being outside, rolling in some mud and chasing people with sticks versus being in a coma in an iron lung. Music is the proverbial stick and all the fun bashing it on your neighbour's shin it provides. Now, WSDT doesn't specialize in much. Anything, actually. We're a bunch of kids with an acronym. We don't even live close to each other. This blog is a mere facade, we're not even a team. We don't have jerseys or sponsors. Most of us don't even play sports. I personally watch from the sidelines and smoke cigarettes. Sure I get all the women that way, but there's no I in team. Just a ME, and it's lonely. And it also can't cook. But it's the thought that counts, motherfucker, and I will spill my playlist all over this site, so open wide and swallow that shit - because music doesn't give you food poisoning.

Now, everyone likes a good old fashioned meal, the kind with no consequences in the morning, such as "the shits". Good old fashioned meals like chicken noodle soup. In my personal musical terminology, the chicken noodle soup will represent all the mainstream music. It's the kind that you can blare loudly from your car and people won't even notice it because their radio is playing the same song. Kinda like the smell of a Big Mac coming from your roommate's room. You're all like, "and?" Then suddenly, BOOM, your olfactory sensors are going fucking bananas! There's something in the air, what the fuck is it? It's so...so...

"Ah, oui, madmoiselle, ca c'set la Queue Flambe. Good choize!"

Sex Spider

God damn, is GB ever spicy. You listen to that shit and then you go and take an actual shit and it hurts so good. You're like GYPSIES!? SHIIIIIT! JAMAICANS? SHIIIIIIIIIIT! BROOKLYN?!? SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT. Next thing you know, everything in your house is covered in shit and for some reason you're smiling.

But spicy ain't for some of you. I understand that. Some of you have tongues made for licking pussy and not eating nachos. I understand that. You fancy pants metrosexuals with you piercings. Get a tattoo. Or better yet, listen to something that doesn't burn but still packs a punch. What you need is something...

"Throw some bacon on that motherfucker. And a stick of dynamite."

Diabolique

Like the first time you bit into a solid brick of cheese while mom wasn't looking and then blamed it on the "mouses", Warsawpack is music laced with what I can only describe as "thick". And I know every motherfucker out there loves thick. Especially Kris. Juicy would work too, but it's much more, well, bolder than that. It's sexy, loud, thick and juicy. It's the kind of meal you chew slowly and then burp in people's face.

Muyinza.




You ass.

What? WHAT!? You can't HANDLE bold? Oh, you can? Oh, you love it? You love it a lot? Well, then tough guy, have a bite of this? OH SNAP! Hahaha, it tastes like a cheeseburger you say? But it looks like pizza, huh? Man, that's fucking...

"What the fuck is this I'm loving so much!?"

Fight For Your Right To Party (Beastie Boys Cover)

Richard Cheese is fucking awesome. And quite coincidentally, his name has food in it. That's some fucking tarot shit there, motherfucker. This guy is so wacky, if wacky was hands, he'd be wacking off forever. It's like fondue, the best of everything tossed into one pot and made smooth.

Getting full? Well shove a digit or two down the old windpipe cuz I got shit flying off the menu like it's a motherfucking soup kitchen. Next up is a sick meal you wanna eat in the sun with a big tall glass of juice, as naked women play volleyball, their sun kissed breasts jiggling with every spike. Just thinking about it makes my balls...

"Balls."

April 29, 1992 (Miami) (WMA file, no streaming audio, DL that shit)

I know you've heard of these guys, and I didn't come here with the intention of introducing you to new bands. Just sweet bands. Bands of different sorts. Bands I haven't heard in a while. Bands like Sublime. I mean, when's the last time you ate pretzels? I love pretzels. I ate an assload over the years, they're cool shit. It's just that, for some reason, I haven't had some in a long time. So here you go, assholes. Here's some Sub.

While you're at it, fudgepacker, open up that giant can of whoop ass. What's that, two cans? How's that one? WATERY?! WATERY AS FUCK!? FUCK THAT APECUM, DICKSHIT, GIMME THE ONE THAT'S...

"That's some chunky-ass shit!"

Wynona's Big Brown Beaver (WMA file, no streaming audio, DL that shit)

God damn, that bass makes me think of meat balls. That's balls of god damn meat. I swear, whenever I eat a meatball, I just feel like the biggest motherfucker alive. If I had some chunky ass meatballs hooked up to an IV and jammed into my vein, I could kick anybody's ass 50 times.

Ooh, god damn. Ate like 6 plates or something. BRB.


Phew, holy fuck. I don't know how much of that was shit and how much was organs. Anyways, considering I just shit out half of Canada (not including Quebec, it's been floating in there already and someone forgot to flush, har hee har fucking French) I'm kinda hungry again. Let's see, hmmm. Nah, don't feel like no Beastie Boys, I already had some spicy. Fuck Minsitry, I can't handle anymore boldness. I'll get a god damn ulcer or something. Man, I've had all this shit! I don't wanna god damn meal, I want a...

"Strangely enough, snacks and the metaphorical "snack" music go well with weed. Go figure."

Riffwraith

Whoa, holy fucking fuck, what's that? WHAT IS THAT?! Leee...lieeeee....liiiiighghghg....liiiightning bawlt? What's this some Zanzibar shit, I can't even...ohh, Lightning Bolt! Fuck, that's some good shit! It's like, all over the place, like some sour cream BBQ chips with the works, crumbling all over my wife beater and getting my fingers all greasy. Mmm-MM, motherfucker. Delicious.










Anyone got a Coke?

Why are pirates so great? They just ARRRRRRRRR

So everyone keeps bitching about new facebook....personally I don't care...you cried this much when your diapers were changed but once you shit in them everything was great. Well today I was finally made aware that there is shit in new facebook and it is GLORIOUS. Maybe this was on old facebook, maybe it was on cbc and I didn't watch, maybe I look like a fucking idiot for posting this years after the fact, maybe you shouldve told me about this before. Regardless, I'm telling you about it now....PIRATE ENGLISH....if you go to the bottom of your facebook page you will see an option for languages, English is likely there in blue. Click that, selection appears, find and click Pirate English and voila your life is set.

Camera Whores

/K

Cosmo is the equivalent of shit, only shittier

I'm sorry to stray so far out of the field of relevance, but I’ve become increasingly more infuriated by the ridiculous know-it-all bullshit paraded on the front page of Cosmo magazines. I can’t even take a piss without having some scraggly bitch staring back at me from a brightly coloured cover page right on top of the toilet, surrounded by blowhard facts about my penis as if it needed an instruction manual. I’m here to deliver a quick and painful jab to the editors’ ovaries because I can’t take it anymore.

Phase 1. Derailing the Train of Lies

Article “His G Spot”

Rebuttal: Wanna find my G spot? It’s called the prostate gland, and we usually reluctantly pay a wizened doctor to find it with a gloved finger when we turn 50. In other words, it’s in my ass, and if you wanna be that creative, you better buy me a drink first. And roofie it.

Article “4 Signs a Man is Capable of Rape”

Rebuttal: Seriously? Alright, giving a few harmless tips on how to fuck a guy (without probing his rectum) is one thing, but potentially ruining an innocent man’s reputation with quips like “he has the rapist eyes” or something like that is a whole ‘nother bag of nuts. As in, you’re fucking nuts, you crazy fucking bitch. I haven’t read the article myself, so I could be wrong analyzing it, but considering Cosmo is, you know, Cosmo, I doubt they have a staff of university professors spilling their thesis out on glossy pages. Why is that article in there to begin with? It’s depressing and potentially very harmful. The Cosmo demographic is like barely legal women who already go around spreading rumours about people without the help of dickhead magazines. The only way you can tell if a man is capable of rape is if he really wants to rape you. How do you tell? Well, he really wants to rape you, so he’s probably trying it. But of course, that is a hardcore rapist. The “rape” Cosmo is referring to is most likely the rape every guy at every party is capable of. You know, the kind where everyone is drunk and hoping to score. That’s not rape, that’s opportunity.

Article “How To Please Your Man in 60 Seconds or Less” (ver. 1)

Rebuttal: Why the fuck do you wanna do that? All that does is insult the effort we put into thinking about baseball. It’s like Cosmo is trying to teach women to offend the man’s stamina to the point of designing a guide for it. Of course, I’m assuming the article is about sex. You know a good way to please your man in sixty seconds or less? Make him a pop-tart.

Article “The Hottest Thing To Do To a Guy in 60 Seconds or Less” (ver. 2)

Rebuttal: What the fuck does that mean? Why is a countdown necessary? Say the thing in question is a sloppy ball-licking. Is that too hard to accomplish in the first second of foreplay? Maybe I don’t know as much about women as I thought I do. Maybe to girls, sex is like a videogame, and she has to level up before attempting certain things. I mean, I’d understand if the guide was for men and meant to say “how to get her to do things in 60 seconds or less” but otherwise it makes no sense. You’d have to be supremely vain to have to convince yourself to do things you thought up. You’d have to be a bitch of biblical proportions.

Article “4 Things All Men Crave to Hear”

Rebuttal: Feminists can suck my dick. Honestly. I’m not allowed to say cunt, but women are allowed to just randomly shit out half-assed theories that make me, as a guy, feel that you could simply summarize all of my desires in a small pamphlet. What the fuck? I mean, sure to an extent, you can guesstimate what we as the human race look kindly upon, like calling a man handsome or conversely a woman pretty, and hell, you can even go as far as to learn from common pop culture traits which extend to an area I’m fairly unfamiliar with but one you yuppies know like the back of your hand, such as complimenting a man’s devotion to pump his biceps, or a woman’s Gucci bag, but everyone who cares about that already knows that. So, if Cosmo wants to be innovative, they must mean NEW information we still don’t know, and they sure do end up looking like jackasses revealing it in such an article. I bet all fucking men like to hear whatever is written in the magazine. In fact, I’m gonna go read it right now.

...

“Wow, where did you learn to do that!?”

Sure, it’s flattering to hear that, but sometimes it’s best to shut the fuck up. Sometimes the question sounds patronizing, like a fake orgasm, and sometimes we just don’t have the answer. Maybe we didn’t learn it and take offence that you think we didn’t know it in the first place. So fuck you. You’ll never get it again.

“I need your opinion.”

Who the fuck craves to hear that? Opinion on what? A dress? Shoes? I don’t give two fucks and a rat’s asshole about that shit, so please, ask your mother or something.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.”

Alright. But now that you said that, it makes me feel even more like a piece of shit, and compels me to say it more than it did before. In fact, if I don’t, it’s gonna weigh upon me like a god damn boulder, so sit the fuck down and listen to why I shat on your sister’s chest.

OR

Oh sweet. Thanks a lot you submissive bitch, enjoy being with a totally unappreciative douchebag like myself. In the meanwhile, when I knock you up and leave, make sure not to ask why I did that either, and also if our son happens to burn down his school, just keep doing what you do best.

“I’ll give it a try.”

Alright. I mean, thanks, it’s a nice gesture. A little half hearted, but it’s nice. I can’t say I woke up with semen on my boxers from a really nice dream where you said “I’ll give it a try.” I don’t crave it, but if you wanna help build the house, be my guest.

Part 2. Cosmo meets that mythological creature they always write about, the uhh, man? Is it man? I think it’s man.

Cosmo: Hello, penis creature, how are you?

Man: ...I’m good, thanks.

Cosmo: So, is it true that you love sex?

Man: Sure, I don’t mind sex.

Cosmo: You want it all day, your world revolves around it!

Man: Well, no. I mean, who doesn’t love sex, it feels good, it’s what it’s meant to do. But I don’t, you know, carve it into walls and plot out ways to get laid 24/7.

Cosmo: But you have a penis?

Man: Yeah.

Cosmo: But then, you want sex all the time.

Man: I don’t want it all the time! I mean, I want it sometimes, like any other person, and sure, usually I’m open to intercourse, but sometimes, I actually prefer not to have sex.

Cosmo: You’re gay then? How do you like your hair done?

Man: I’m not gay! And gays don’t think about hair all the time, and neither do women. Man, what the fuck is wrong with you, you have the depth of a shot glass. I’ve seen slabs of shit more intricate than your thought process.

Cosmo: Oh yeah? Well, you have small triceps, emo.

Man: What? Oh please, look at me. Do you really think I’m affected by your pop-culture brand of judgment?

Cosmo: I don’t understand.

Man: Of course you don’t, your staff of lab monkeys slobber over tabloids and television to deliver recycled, paraphrased information day after day and hope to actually learn something from it. You know what the difference is between your article and my ass-wipe?

Cosmo: What?

Man: I don’t have glossy toilet paper.

Fuck Cosmo, man, what a dumbass magazine. You know, I don’t like to think of myself as a rebel without a cause, but whoever reads Cosmo must end the day with an intricate coloring book and a mind-boggling jigsaw puzzle they got from a Kinder Surprise egg. Top that shit off with some warm milk before bed, and maybe a nursery rhyme right before the clock hits 6 p.m. Sweet dreams, princess. Cosmo is the least we could do for you since your gene pool is too shallow to fish out more than 3 brain cells. Enjoy your pretty books, sweetie, while I go do something more productive, like rub my balls on a cheese grater. Go ahead, read it, you pretty little dumbass. The odds of you actually learning anything is like scraping the sides of a toilet bowl and snagging a chunk of shit that’s still at least 10% edible. I swear, I could be overdosing on heroin and I’d still feel too smart to read Cosmo.

- Vlad

Rollerwade

So majestic. I could ride a white tiger through a harem of nubile young virgins as my three foot cock drags through heaps of ducats and jewels, and it would still come only halfway to how cool this shit is.

- Vlad

Dressed All Over and Zesty Mordant

This is some real greasy shit for you boys and girls:

Top Five Songs You All Know, But Not Really

Let me explain...there are two types of listeners when it comes to music: the explorer and the radio cruiser. The difference between these two is that the explorer will go into a music store on a whim and start snatching CDs like Rumpelstiltskin in a maternity wing, whereas the radio cruiser jots down the name of every song on the most popular station and religiously follows the roster because he or she is unaware other shit is good too, or probably better. You see, in order to hit a sweet teat on the spectrum of popularity, music producers hire artists that are so mediocre, it's pretty much an art form. Because of our modern lifestyle's need for social acceptance, kids don't want to be too unique and suffer being shunned, but also don't want to listen to some jackass having a prolapse in their ear. That's why we get this:


Ali Blowhard, er, Lohan is just what the world needs - more of the same shit in a different shitty package because anything better makes us weird, and anything shittier makes us, well, also weird. And stinky. So it's no wonder that the vastly greater ratio of the radio cruisers will spend years, maybe entire lifetimes, without knowing what exactly they're listening to, because often what it turns out to be is a great song crushed and compressed to retard-size, easy-to-swallow, yum-yum Flintstones tablets. Let's get it on.

NUMBER 5 - Vanilla Ice with Ice Ice Baby
I wanna say this in advance: it's not the artists that piss me off, hell, it's not even you. It's the lack of appreciation that goes for the original masterminds even though the only thing that made this song popular...was the fucking beat. And whose is it? Not Vanilla's, baby. It's those two strapping young lads, Bowie and Mercury, one of which basically lost an eye fucking some guy up, and the other who lost a life just plain fucking. The song is Under Pressure.

NUMBER 4 - Kid Rock with American Badass
It baffles me how much money this guy made writing lyrics. I mean, poetry is cool, but slamming every single word you write to a beat that already exists, not once, but several times (stay tuned) is just fucking brilliant. This guy probably owns a five story mobile home because of other bands. Way to go Kid Rock. At least he has good fucking taste though. You can roll with Rock or suck his dick...while he plays Metallica.

NUMBER 3 - Green Day with Boulevard of Broken Dreams
You know this one. To be honest, I've seen worse, but then again, most others were out in the open. This one doesn't try to mooch so much as it tries to leech, and the victim is Seals & Crofts with Summer Breeze. The reason I bring this vague 50-50 chance, rip-or-no rip comparison to number three is because while other artists mentioned thus far probably asked for permission to use the beats (no way either Vanilla or Kid could've gotten away with it), Green Day seems like it's trying to drown it out. But I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. I mean, it's tight coming up with shit when everyone already beat you to the punch. Besides, they say great minds think alike, even though, personally, and without any offense, I could list 5 objects in my room right now that would sound better tumbling down a heap of shit than Green Day does playing. But still, Green Day is fun until you start listening to the lyrics, much like Limp Bizkit, which I still listen to. It's my guilty pleasure, even though Fred Durst is a dong.

(Pay attention to the guitar. Green Day increased the tempo, but it's still quite similiar. Better yet, check out the JR Brow link at the very bottom of the post.)

NUMBER 2 - The Offspring with Why Don't You Get A Job
Fuck you, eat shit, die in a fire, I know you fuckers listened to this shit like mad cows, don't even lie. Each and every one of you had this burned on your CD along with Uncle Fucker and that song about Frosty being a sexual predator, you lying sacks of shitty lies. And you know what? It was probably ripped off from that one band you thought would instantly give you erectile dysfunction and ruin your "cred" to boot because they're old and don't know shit. Eat it, bitches.

(I had to use this censored version because the other one disabled embedding.)

NUMBER 1 - Kid Rock with Swee - wait, wait, wait. Kid Rock, again? Oh, that's right. The stay tuned part...Alright, well, we all know Kid Rock does this sampling thing more times in a day than I shit in a year, so why mention him again? That's simple: to piss you off. I'm sorry, there's honestly no point beyond that, I just love making you think that the music you've been listening to for the past decade is garbage. I've covered American Badass, the shit those rednecks were blaring in auto class with the garage door open as if they were doing me a favour, and I've covered Ice Ice Baby, something you still no doubt have somewhere in your music folder out of sheer nostalgia. I've covered Green Day which has haunted me until quite recently, and Offspring which made you think you were a rebel. And now, to top it off, I hit the closest to home with All motherfucking Summer Long, another redneck anthem the radio milks for all it's worth until you're simply GARGLING Kid Rock's spunk as he counts his wads of cash while Warren Zevon rolls in his grave. Even his title is a fucking rip-off. I've heard it being called All Summer Long, but radio hosts occasionally blurt out Sweet Werewolves of London, as in Werewolves of London mixed with Sweet Home Alabama - only Sweet Home Alabama sucks balls, so I don't really give a shit about it, but if you really want me to tear you an extra asshole, then fine. This song ripped off not one, but two other songs. Now that's fancy.

I serve asses on silver platters. Also, I should probably mention that I didn't discover the Green Day one (got it from JR Brow) and that someone else mentioned the Offspring song being a rip-off (I forgot who). I do this so I don't get caught in a terrible ironic trap of hypocrisy. See, when you swallow your pride, you can save some face. Learn from me, music industry. Learn.

- Vlad

A little intellectual dick in the ass.

I mean kick. Kick in the ass. Anyways, this is Kris, also known as Wet Floor, because caution: when I walk in, all the girls get wet and hit the floor. That's right. And because I'm so fucking magnificent, I will spin this motherfucking blog 180 degrees with a single thrust of my brawny, sun-kissed beef. Mmm, yeah! This blog is not about music anymore, or about alcohol (which it was never about), and certainly not about hairy Serbians or strippers, because fuck that shit. No, it's now about books. Books I read that is. Because everything else is cocks. Big, thick, lubricated cocks.

So, without further ado, I shall now announce what book I'm reading and by whom it was written, with an air of such confidence, you'll think you actually give a shit. Oh, and I'll do it in third person, motherfucker. Haha, bam, bitch! Excuse me while I take off my glasses and gently wipe the lenses with my important clothes, cuz I got all steamy kicking you in the nuts, you worthless philistine.

Kris Gaier is reading "The Tugger" by Alex Hoal; an autobiographical tale of a young, black sailor in the midst of a whole lot of white seamen, as they travel on a military-issue tugboat, The Wet Dutchman, whose destination is an eye-opening revelation that black or white, we're all pink inside. Told through hard-hitting and gripping first-person narrative, this tear-jerker will make you rethink your life and the way you see those around you, and maybe even teach a lost soul or two, just like Hoal taught all 69 of his co-sailors, to not frown just because it's brown. Kris Gaier was eager to join sailor A. Hoal on his rough and rugged journey through pain, discomfort, and ultimately acceptance and ease, as his crewmates finally learned to sail smooth. Kris loved every inch of the book thus far. In fact, he just got done working on the first half of it, and is just itching to get the rest of it inside him...

...balls deep.

- Kris

Ever get a lapdance to Linkin Park?

You're not missing out. Picture fucking a cheese-grater with really nice tits. I've never experienced such chemistry before. On one hand, I'm getting a sweaty, ball-chaffing lapdance, so good that my dick wants to jump off my pelvis and give me a high five. But on the other hand, I can hear Chester screaming "crawling in my skin" which stands somewhere between getting kicked in the mouth and having a railroad spike driven down my urethra on the scale of "holy fuck, don't!" You ever burp and hiccough at the same time? You ever feel such an overwhelming paradoxical force that you feel like the universe just broke? As if in that one split second, for all you know, the entire cosmos grinded to a halt and whole eons passed before whatever ruling force buffered out the chinks in the programming. In fact, logic often falls short of explaining how exactly you managed to avoid the situation without collapsing into a black hole, as if the solution was achieved through some tear in reality. Think about it, two currents of air, going in opposing directions (intake and outtake) meet within a small fleshy tube and collide...and yet, your head doesn't implode into a supernova. Where's the logic? There isn't any. It was not meant to be. Someone fucked up. The guy at the fates department just choked on a sip of coffee, tried to stifle his cough, looked at the cubicles around him to make sure no one noticed he shat things up and quickly hit CTRL ALT DELETE while hissing "shit shit shit shit!"

You dumb motherfucker. Test those bugs out before they end up screaming in my ear while rubbing my dick. I would rather be buttfucked by a whale than get a boner to Linkin Park ever again. It was just not fair. I had three therapy sessions already, and my shrink still can't convince me that it's not my fault. I have dreams where people make fun of me for being Linkinsexual, while dicks crawl under my skin. I have dreams where a woman takes off her shirt, after hours of anticipation, only to reveal two Chester heads who immediately start yelling "craaaawling innn my skiiiiiin, these wouuuunds, they wiiiillll not heeeee-aaaalll!" It hurts. I wake up in cold sweat, usually with an erection covered in scratch marks.

Fucking...shit.

I was gonna write a thing about music from around the world again, but I just don't have it in me. All I can do these days is sit on the toilet and cry. Cry and take dumps. That's all I do, man. All I do.

Vlad

I'm back and black...ish.

PROLONGED DEADLINE IS TODAY! SEND IN YOUR PICTURES, NOW! WHOEVER HAS THE MOST GRAFFITI WINS!
UPDATE BELOW

‘Sup, dickbags, Vlad here. So, I’m back from sunny-ass Europe, and as if I wasn’t already the holder of the “who’s had the wackiest shit happen to him” award, I come out again to smash my own record. Bear with me from this point on, I’ve been hopping time zones like a motherfucker and literally flew though about twelve breakfasts in twelve different countries in the course of nine hours, so time has been pretty much standing still until I suddenly landed in Canada smack dab in the witching hours. I’ve had such a case of jetlag, I almost shit out my face. My insides are sorta wanting to get out, and I find myself wanting to roam the streets at 6 am, or as I like to call it, motherfucking noon. That’s the sucky part about travel…there’s actually a time zone where when you cross it, you go into yesterday. Holy shit on a bagel.
But yeah, the second I landed, I felt so disoriented and exhausted that I actually had minor hallucinations on the ride back, although the adventures during my vacation might be partly responsible for that. Hopefully, I’ve fixed this problem; I went camping yesterday where I drank myself to death at exactly midnight, so maybe that kicked my ass back in gear. Who knows, we’ll see. Once again, I’ll make this fairly simple and low-tech, so bear with me…and honestly, there’s nothing about this trip that can’t be said in point form.

- I almost unknowingly picked up a Hungarian hooker.
- A priest got me wasted.
- I spent 3 weeks drunk, no joke.
- A girl peed on my shoe and I didn’t have to pay.
- I threw up during the Croatia vs. Germany game. I woke up in the morning in a friend’s house with 5 soccer balls. I later found out that 8 beers wins you a soccer ball…you do the math. (I brought one home!)
- I made out with three girls while their friend took pictures. If you find me on a site, please tell me.
- I was offered a threesome (2girls1vlad). I politely declined FOR SOME FUCKING REASON! I guess I’m not used to the foreign standard of being nice all the time, you rude fucks.
- I played soccer with a bunch of smokers. It went like this: first half was 5 minutes, then our chests started hurting, so we took a 20 minute smoke break, then played for 15 STRAIGHT MINUTES HOLY FUCK! We almost died.
- I took a train to some town, got mega hammered, and had some lady drive me home. I didn’t know her. She was old.
- I realized hitchhiking is not only easy, but awesome. I was joking when I stuck my thumb out, but everyone stopped, and I think everyone was stoned.
- I got to hang out with a communist.
- I accidentally ran into 2 cousins I didn’t know I had.
- I had a gun pulled on me by a drunk guy who wanted to show me how he pulled a gun on someone else.
- I got to meet a shitload of interesting people, and I also saw a portrait of my buddy nude because he poses naked for the art students. It’s actually good money, and all he does is sit.
- I unknowingly walked into a fucking Mafioso bar, where women danced in cages. I just wanted some smokes.
- I nearly got arrested at the Hungarian airport after their x-ray picked up the toy shotgun I was carrying in my bag.
- I hit on way too many 13 year olds. I swear to God, sober as daylight, they still look and act 18. It’s a different world.
- I got to see a cow.

That’s all I can remember right now. It was an exciting time, but now, I’m gonna quickly and unexpectedly switch topics and say that the prolonged deadline for the graffiti is TO-FUCKING-DAY. E-mail me the pictures now or never, this is serious business. 5 bucks, people. 5 bucks. I heard that no one could find all 10, so whoever has the most is the winner.

Love,
VLSL3

UPDATE: I'm disappointed. No one sent me a single photo of the graffiti. I understand that perhaps you were waiting to collect all 10 before sending anything, so I'm willing to forgive that. But if the problem is lack of spirit, then maybe I joined the wrong group. This is the extra-prolonged mercy deadline, three, count it, THREE days after the actual deadline which was Saturday. It's 6 pm, raining like SHIT so I know you got nothing better to do than upload a few pictures. Last call.

Mixtape Monday 7

Given that there has been little work done on this page for awhile, an explanation may be required... Simple: Adam is on a 4am work shift, Vlad is in Croatia and Kris is busy jacking off...Vlad and Adam are also busy with that (seperately)... Regardless, expect a redesign and an introduction to the hype machine which is gonna mean a lot more posting...Kris will hopefully venture out to some more events as well. So to help bridge the gap WSDT offers its first exclusive;

Gingy's Summer Mix

Tracklist:
gingy - don't you worry
estelle - wait a minute (count n sinden remix)
kylie minogue- wow (mstrkrft remix)
whitest boy alive - golden cage (falke remix)
syntonics - droppin tha bomb (gingy remix)
midfield general - disco sirens (boy 8 bit remix)
dilemn - ghetto town
britney spears - break the ice (cut n killed remix)
sebastian - greel vs oliver huntemann - paris
crookers - aguas de parco
riva starr - house music
les rhythmes digitales - jacques your body (switch remix)
bart b more - so it goes
dusty kid - the cat
gingy - swagger
NERD - everybody nose
detboi - wreck the disco
count of monte cristal - bounce that ass
mstrkrft - bounce (bloody beetroots remix)
hardrive - deep inside
acdc - thunderstruck (crookers remix)
herve - rocky raver
charlean dance - mr dj (speaker junk remix)
crookers - knobbers
boys noize - oh!
siriusmo - all the girls (yuksek remix)
usher - nice and slow gingy edit

Mixtape Monday 6(th month of the year)

Sooo it's been awhile...awkward? Phhh fuck that. Decent party dames and gents thanks to everyone who got their groove on, Here's what you danced to;

WSDT June 7th

Playlist:
Daft Punk- Aerodynamic (Jonatron Edit) (Mr. JL's Stay Fly Re-edit)
MSTRKRFT feat. N.O.R.E.- Bounce
Estelle feat. Kanye West- American Boy (Nadastrom Remix)
Estelle feat. Kanye West- American Boy (Sujinho Remix)
Snoop Dogg feat. Justin Timberlake- Signs (Gingy Remix)
Thunderheist- Jerk It (Nasty Nav + JFK Remix)
M.I.A.- XR2
Kanye West- Flashing Lights (Diplo Remix)
One Republic- Apologize (Lazrtag Remix)
Kanye West feat. T-pain- Good Life (Heavy Feet Remix)
N.E.R.D.- Everyone Nose
N.E.R.D.- Everyone Nose (Phra Edit)
Herve- Rocky Raver
Alex Gopher- Dust
Goose- Bring It On (JFK Remix)
The Teenagers- Starlett Johannsson (Blamma! Blamma! Remix)
Fake Shark Real Zombie!- Designer Drugs (Designer Drugs Remix)
MSTRKRFT- Vuvuvu
Surkin- Kid Gloves
Gingy- Swagger
Chromeo- Fancy Footwork (Mr. Miyagi Remix)
Midfield General- Disco Sirens (Boy 8 Bit Remix)
Herve- Lets Get Dirty
Daft Punk- Robot Rock (Soulwax Remix)
Boys Noize- & Down
Herve- Cheap Thrills
ACDC- Thunderstruck (Crookers Remix)
SebastiAn- Motor
Justice- Phantom pt II (Soulwax Nite Version)
Justice- Phantom pt II (Boys Noize Remix)
Limp Bizkit- My Generation

P.S. if anyone can explain how Kurt ended up in a field that would be helpful

5 Dollar Challenge

I'm leaving for Europe in about 4 days. I wanted to leave something for you guys to do while my dick is away.

But first, let me ask you: would you like to win five dollars? Sure it's only five dollars, but here's the catch: there is no catch. All you gotta do is spend a little time exploring. I'm dead serious. In fact, let me explain how it works. I have marked the entire town, far and wide, with 10 tags. That means 10 pieces of WSDT graffiti, not including the one behind the HQ. You know, the one in the alley. There are 10 new ones literally all over the place, and it's your job to find them. I'm gonna post some clues; the first person to find all 10 in one month, starting from right now to July 5th, and mail or email (vlsl3@hotmail.com) me the pictures of the graffiti wins five dollars from my own pocket. That's enough for a sweet-ass pizza sub and a Coke from 7-11. I'll give you one piece of advice: read not only what I wrote, but how I wrote it. Everything on the papers below has a purpose. You won't find them unless you read between the lines.

So if you have free time and could use a few bucks, print out these pages and get on it. Who knows, it might be fun.







And there's one last one I wanna show you. The previous ones are goofy and fun. This one is tough. This one is very tough, but everything on it is relevant to the location. It will take more than a brainstorm to get you there. In fact, it's not even the WSDT logo, it's a personal one. Use the paper as a guide, and if you find it, I'll throw in another prize...and depending on who you are, it may mean more or less.



I suggest you flip all those papers rightside-up for them to look more coherent. Especially the last one.

So, have fun, make sure to bring your cameras and it would really, REALLY help if you brought a car...and also, don't snitch! (as in, on me)

Love,
L.C.

Oh, and remember! If you looselips let slip the locations of any of these tags, you're that much farther from winning the prize. Keep this confidential until the contest is over. And no, you don't have to get the first ten to win the prize for the eleventh. The eleventh (the special one) is a separate adventure.

Hurry up though! I don't think some of them will last...

The Holy Grail of Erotica

So here we are, Myles and I, having fun blasting Marc M. dialogues through the microphone on Xbox Live, when suddenly I get a call from a friend. He invites us over to play poker, so we abandon our quest to piss off random wankers on Halo 3 in order to spend some quality “dude time” bonding with him. The meeting was at another friend’s house, where we spent an hour playing cards and talking about titties. After we finished up, the friend whose apartment we were in says he wants to show us something. Being proud of his roots, this particular friend takes us on a tour of his domicile, exhibiting his many Irish/Scottish themed décor, including badges, flags and a hammer Scots used specifically for bar-fighting. This pleased me. I was enjoying myself enough as it was, but then this friend of ours goes on to point out a large cardboard box saying “that I plan to throw away, though.” We looked at it, and nudged it with our feet. It was heavy. Really heavy. Was it a BIGGER bar hammer? Fuck, I hope so. “What is it?” I asked, my voice giddy. He looked around his room, admiring his own collection of Gaelic memorabilia, as he replied in the most nonchalant tone ever: “porn.”

Say huh now?

I didn’t want to open the box. He was fucking with us. I picked it up as it was. I’m no expert at gauging weight, but I’d say it was about 10 tons. Myles is better at this than me, though, and his final answer is 60 lbs. That’s still a lot of porn. I go “you’re shitting me, right?” He goes “no, open it.” Part of me really wanted to, but another part of me was convinced it was a starved bobcat. He was yanking my proverbial cock, this couldn’t be porn. This weighs more than I do. It was a tough lie to swallow, but damn my manly genes for not being able to resist. I tore that box open like it was Christmas, and holy fuck, he wasn’t lying. I was like “dude, don’t throw this away!” These were some class magazines. The pages didn’t even stick together. And considering half the ads in each magazine had a “chicks with dicks” phone line, we knew we were dealing with the mother lode of filth. This is what the government spends money to keep out of circulation. That is what serial killers on death row request as their final pleasure. This is what would get you burned at the stake 300 years ago. This was the shit. I pretty much came right then and there.

“Why the fuck are you throwing this out, man?” For a second, I thought I was dealing with one of those reformed guys who tattoo “don’t do it!” on their favorite hand as to keep them for rubbing one out. I don’t like those people. Hell I’ve jacked off about 9 times since I started writing this. But what he said next was probably the most awesome thing ever: “I’m downsizing.” This means that somewhere under the bagpipes and claymores and kilts is another, slightly smaller, perhaps 40 lb. box of porn. I seriously love this guy.

He goes to us “you guys want it?” I didn’t say anything. In fact, before he even finished that sentence, Myles and I were at the back of my car, stuffing it into my trunk. Then we decided to keep it in Myles’ house, because he has an awesome basement no one goes into unless we're super suspicious. Unfortunately, Myles also has two overly happy dogs that jumped on us as soon as we walked in, made a horrible noise and attracted his mother. We managed to make it seem like it was, you know, not a giant fucking box of porn, but eventually she peeked in and found out it was indeed a giant fucking box of porn. It was kinda funny, I mean, everyone’s mom sometimes finds a dirty picture or a magazine under their bed or something like that. That’s normal. But imagine finding 60 lbs. worth of smutty mags in a large cardboard box. Man, if Myles gets sent into therapy because of this, I’m gonna laugh so hard, I’ll shit myself.

Anyways, that’s the story of how we have the largest stash of porn in Leamington. It’s as if it found us, knowing how nice we’d treat it and knowing how much love we’d give it. If anyone wants to admire it, please get in line. We have half of Canada giving arms and legs just to touch the rim of the box.

I was gonna take a picture. But then I realized that wouldn’t be such a great idea.

Love,
Winds - er, Leamington Crew



NOFX- My Vagina
Mickey Avalon- My Dick
Sebastien Tellier- Sexual Sportswear (SebastiAn Remix)
Snoop Dogg- Sexual Eruption
Snoop Dogg- Sexual Eruption (Boys Noize Remix)

Mixtape Monday 5 "Count It"

Some peeps have been buggin' me to post this for awhile, it's the Count of Monte Cristal (aka Hervé aka Voodoo Chilli aka Josh Harvey...it goes on) and Sinden's BBC essential mixtape. There's a whackload of these and the BBC only enlists the top artists (Justice, Diplo etc.) but from everything I've heard this one bounces the most. Enjoy;

The Count of Monte Cristal & Sinden's Essential Mix

Tracklist:

Snoop Dogg - Sensual Seduction
Enur - Calabria (club mix)
Pitbull feat Lil Jon - The Anthem
South Rakkas - Mad Again
Plastic Little - Jump Off
Kid Sister feat Kanye West - Pro Nails
Tragic and Anastasia - Feelin Horny
Spank Rock and Benny Blanco - BOOTAY
Soulja Boy - Crank That
Dude And Dem - Watch My Feet
Kid Sister feat Gantman - Switchboard
Santogold - Creator
Benga and Coki - Night
Rusko - Cockney Thug
Hench - 3K Out
Burial - Archangel
MJ Cole - Sincere
Estelle - Wait A Minute (Just A Touch) (Count and Sinden remix)
Se Sa feat Sharon Phillips - I Like It Like This (Count and Sinden remix)
Ron Carrol - Nike Spinnin (Count and Sinden remix)
The Soft Tigers - Ice Cream (Waxmasters remix)
Count and Sinden feat Kid Sister - Beeper
Alphabeat - Fascination (Count and Sinden remix)
Toddla T feat Serocee - Inna Da Dancehall (Count and Sinden remix)
No Requests - Heartbroken
Juiceboxx and Dre Skull - Centre Stage
DJ Technics - Computer Madness
Tameil - Trans Newark Express
DJ Class - Next To You
Fake Blood - Theme
The Touch - Maximization Nation (Trevor Loveys remix)
Action Man (aka Herve) feat Trevor Loveys - Beat Bang
Machines Dont Care - Take It To The Club
Count Of Monte Cristal vs DJ Funk - Bounce That Ass - Cheap Thrills
Tittsworth feat Kid Sister and Pace - WTF
Bondo Do Role - Gasolina (Fake Blood remix)
Herve - Deep House
Machines Dont Care - Afro Jacker
Brick N Lace - Switch (remix)
Action Man (aka Herve) - Alarm Bell
Machines Dont Care - Drop The Lime and Herve Are Secret Agents
Voodoo Chilli - Streetplayers
Voodoo Chilli feat Trevor Loveys - All I Need
Fake Blood - Mars
Detboi - Come Rest Up
Chrome Hoof - Tonight (Count Of Monte Cristal ghetto sax remix)
Count Of Monte Cristal and Sinden feat Kid Sister - Beeper (Detboi remix)
Dead Soul Brothers - Blessed

Dean Strickland

This is for Dean. The guy at the party with no shirt. He dances, he drinks, he does his thing. Yeah, it's a bit gay, but we still like him. This is for you, Dean:

*THIS JUST IN*

Dean says: "I need fucking music up there. I will kill myself."
Adam says: "True....trueeee."
Dean says: "Like im bringing my laptop but i can only charge that in bear's vagina outlets."

I was going to add more pictures, but Blogspot is being lame, so I'm just going to add quips and comments from all your friends Dean. Despite what may be written here, we still like you.

Allison tells us this great story: "ok so last saturday when dean was drunk at the kegger, on the way home he stopped at some store and bought a lottery ticket...only he didnt realise he had done this...so the next day he looked in his wallet and there was a lettery ticket for 22 million and he started coming up with what he could do with the money...this is all he could come up with:

"The first thing i'd do is get a sex change so i could have sex with myself...then when i got bored i'd change back...cause fuck i have so much money"

this is prob not funny...but it is to me cause its just so dean...and it supports the thoery that hes gay"

Wow Allison. Wow.

Kris says "I knew Dean was gay the day he told me he likes to masturbate to the movie Hairspray."

Dana's favorite Dean quote is "There wasn't really any room for you, but I suppose you could sit on my lap."

Justin says "Dean likes to give rimjobs...just like Kris." To that, I (Kris) say "I love donuts, what else can I say?"

Brain says "Dean's not going to Thunderbay, he's going to jail for a little while."

Dana also says "Sorry for grabbing your face, and making your eyes water with your unibrow hairs." A unibrow, really Dean?

Joe says "You're fucking useless."

Alex L says "Yo Dean, stay off of the muscle juice." More like man juice.

Adam says "Wednesday, Dean called every girl in his phone explaining the dollar burger was a dollar fifty...not only did he sleep alone that night, he also overpayed for his burger which was awful at best."

Alex F says " The odds of Dean going to Thundergay are a million to one." Well guess what Alex I like those odds and I put a dime down on him leaving... calculate that shit.

Vlad says: "When Dean leaves, I will be flaccid until further notice."

Kris's Mom says "I saw Dean at Subway today. He paid for his sub with his Visa. Does he have a job?"

This is all for now. If anyone wishes to add something after it's been posted you can message me and I'll get it up A.S.A.P. Until then, enjoy Dean while you have him.
Also, if by chance, Dean is eaten by a bear, or several mosquitoes at once, he would like to have Joe inherit all his shit and Foran inherit his debt.

Mixtape Monday: And God Said...

...Don't be Stressin', here are the motherfuckingphotos. Commandment 18:

Many thanks to Mr. Kanye West who decided to leak this for everyone...It's the unofficial-official video for stress and be warned it's full of hooliganism, although, I suppose that's right down our alley. Justice-Stress (Directed by Romain Gavras)
(Click the links above to dl the mpeg version)

Mixtape Monday; This is a tight ass set featuring Digitalism versus Cajuan with a few extras that I threw in (ie. single songs for dl)

Digitalism vs. Cajuan- Nocturnal Mix

Tracklist:

1. Sebastian- Untitled - Ed Banger

2.Yuksek - Contact - UWE France

3.Digitalism - Jupiter Room (Planetary Lobby version) - Kitsune

4.Bag Raiders - Nil by Mouth (reprise) - Bang Gang

5.Eclier - DISCO

6.Symbolone - Love Juice

7.Digitalism - Pogo (Digitalism Robotic mix) - Kitsune

8. Decalicious - La Faviere 76 (Larz Chaptier mix) - Kiso

9.Cut Copy - Lights and Music (Boys Noize mix) - Modular

10.Digitalism - The Pulse (ISI mix) - Kitsune

11.Jence - Rollin

12.The Whip - Trash (Crookers mix) - Southern Fried

13.Hot Chip - Ready For The Floor (Jesse Rose mix) - DFA

14.Alex Gopher - Aurora (Cajuan mix) - Go 4 Music

15.Late Of The Pier - The Bears Are Coming (Metronomy mix) - Moshi Moshi

16.Hercules and Love Affair - Blind (Hercules club remix) - DFA

17.Cazals - Life Is Boring (Ali Love mix) - Kitsune