PSAs from the 80′s are the best.

On the docket for today? The GrumbleToy exclusive Yamomark GID Barabaran, of course. This guy is disgusting. My wife says he’s ‘hard to look at’ in the same way that The Phantom Zone or R’lyeh is hard to look at: you think you see it, but then you realize that you don’t. And then you realize that you’ve gone crazy. Just from looking.

Anyway: Rose for a face? Check. Cute little ladybug for a bellybutton? Check. Normal, Superman-style legs with boots? Check. Crazy, disgusting, claw-tailed centipde for an arm and half-a-head? Double-check. I’m loving this guy…not only the complexity of the sculpt (which, as stated, is exceptionally complex and original) but the color application is nigh-genius. Colors typically get a bit washed out on GID blanks (IMO, of course) but the painter’s choice of colors here (Chris from GT, I’m assuming) are really complementary to the translucent quality of the vinyl, and it makes for a sublime palette of odoriferous emanations. Or something.

Bonus!! Mrs. Hateball, in an attempt to cheer me up last night, took me to Toys ‘R’ Us and let me spend ten bucks on anything I wanted. This is a surprisingly challenging thing to do, especially since my toyscretionary income is more or less boundless (not saying it’s smart). Also, too, TRU has some really really shitty toys these days…and I’m not even talking about bootleg shitty…just shitty.

I ended up finding one of the coolest things in the store, though.  A die-cast cloud car from the Star Wars Titanium series. And, wouldn’t you know it…it’s made by Micro Machines. A division of Galoob. I can never grow up, because the universe won’t let me.

They did—for a meager $20—have a replica TMNT Party Wagon there, which I almost broke down and bought. BUT! They didn’t seem to have any of the vintage-style Playmates turtles to go with it, and I sort of realized that the PW is (and always has been) just a plastic box that takes up space. So I passed. My kingdom for a fullsize android-body Krang.

Bonus 2!!!: Do you love GI Joes as much as I do? Do you love bookshelves full of shit that makes it hard to pull books out? Then you need a handmade miniature arcade cabinet, friend. They are amazing, tediously constructed, and actually (sort of) affordable.

Toys are awesome.

Spider-Man Clone Saga #1
Hell fucking yes! Ben Reilly and the legion of Spider-Man clones that ran buckwild in the 1990′s Spideyverse are coming back tomorrow in this comic. If you were unlucky enough to miss it, some truly fucking insane shit went down in Peter Parker’s life back in the day. During the Clone Saga story arc, it was revealed that the dude we had known to be Peter Parker for the last three-million issues was in fact a clone. The real Peter Parker was some dude named Ben Reilly, who took over the mantle so fake Peter Parker could go and raise his kid with Mary Jane.

And then the nerd community went fucking apeshit. Wave after wave of angry nerd inundated the Marvel offices with hate mail. Comic book conventions were filled with emo kids before emo kids were around, screaming to the high heavens about what had transpired. Ignoring the fact that Ben Reilly was awesome, and had bleach blond hair, they couldn’t believe that they had been duped for so long!

If there was the internet back in 1994, it would have been flooded with hate and rage the likes of which the average human could not fathom.

Marvel understandably shit its pants and reversed the storyline as fast as god damn possible. Ben Reilly was – gasp! – actually the clone. Peter Parker could once again reclaim the mantle, leaving his baby to be thrown into a dumpster or some shit because they dropped that storyline like woah. Order was restored to the comic book universe.

But what about people like me who totally fucking dug the storyline? Well apparently, thirteen years later, we’re getting a shot to see how the storyline was actually intended to unfold. This six-issue mini-series promises to show us what would have occured before fanboys began ripping out their own pubes in anger and flipping over their plates of microwaved chicken nuggets beyond themselves in anger.

I’m stoked. I dug the crap out of Ben Reilly. Even at thirteen, I never understood what the insanity was about. Like, didn’t everyone realize that eventually everything would return to normal? Couldn’t they just chill out and wait until the writers finished the arc which would have probably revealed Ben Reilly to be Mysterio or some crap? But no, everyone had to wile out. And I was fucking jipped!

So yeah! I’m stoked to see where this is going to go. Fuck Captain America: Reborn, this is the big event that I’m sweating. It’s not canon, and it’s just a What-If, but who friggin’ cares. Hopefully Ben Reilly comes back, and is all like:

Yo Parker, why are you chilling as a high school teacher and not talking to Mary Jane and ignoring the fact that you had a kid? Wait, you had your relationship with MJ erased to save your rickety-ass Aunt May from death and shit? You truly are a dicksore.

And then of course they throw down.

Also coming out from Marvel is Marvel Divas #3, which features chicks doing something. And then there’s Dark Reign Lethal Legion #3, which has somehow escaped my wrath that I direct at everything  Dark Reign related. And finally if you really want to waste some money, pick up Hulk #15, which stars a Red Hulk whose identity hasn’t been revealed for a solid year and a quarter. I’m putting my money on Betty Ross. Some guy seriously suggested that at the comic book shop I frequent, and I found myself thinking it is so fucking awful it could be true. Imagine a person who only transforms into a Hulk when they’re menstruating? Epic.

Superman #692 (Codename Patriot Epilogue)
Listen, I’m with you. I have absolutely no idea what the fuck is going on in the Superman books currently. I know that Superman has been whisked off-world, hanging out on a restored Krypton. I don’t keep up with the Superman books. There are too many of them, and while they claim to be stand-alone, they’re always cross-referencing shit that is going on on some different book. Apparently James Robinson is currently writing the title, so it could be half-decent. Any title that has parenthesis as part of it gets my attention however.

Also going on is a bunch of Blackest Night style-junk. Green Lantern #43 has the Sinestro Corps beefing internally, while Hal wants to kick Sinestro’s ass, and zombies want to eat all of their brains. It’s like some dysfunctional Thanksgiving dinner or some shit.

And that’s about it for my pull-list this week. With the Blackest Night and Dark Reign brands taking over almost every title, I’ve been consistently pruning the titles I’m actively reading. I’m all for the mega-events, but I’ve been pretty fucking burnt out this year from them. Even shit like Captain America: Reborn has been underwhelming, and titles I used to be able to count on like Daredevil have seen turnovers in their creative teams.

Photo by Tak Sakamoto

Spetsnaz Mark III Lookbook (Click Here)

When we released the original Spetsnaz jacket, we never thought it would become a stalwart piece amongst the cycling enthusiasts.  The combination of functionality and form made the Spetsnaz a popular choice for city riders, couriers and weekend warriors alike.  Clean lines, simple design and sturdy construction have made this jacket a perfect shell for any situation.  Whether you are bee-lining it through city traffic on a bike or just feel the need to look good, the Spetsnaz Mark III jacket offers a little something for everyone.  Currently on it’s third incarnation, the Spetsnaz Mark III features taped seams a fully breathable and windproof nylon material which is water proof up to 10,000 mm of pressure.  It also features more streamlined cuts optimized for riding, arm vents just in case you get stank, and a drop tail to shield your ass from the elements.  In short, this jacket was could withstand the rigors of riding through a tsunami without compromising looks.

We sat with John Prolly after a Fall, Winter and Spring of beating his Mark II to hell to figure out how we could improve the jacket for the optimal riding experience for.

I worked really hard with the guys on re-designing the new Spetsnaz Mark III. Longer sleeves, tighter fit and we lengthened the back to cover your ass crack when you’re in the drops. All of the embroidery points have been taped off and it’s still waterproof and has nice pockets and vents.
- John “Prolly” Watson

Currently the Spetsnaz Mark III jacket is available online and at 350 Broadway and retails for $209.99.  If anyone rides their trusty steed to the store we will offer a 20% discount on said item.

Мишка
350 Broadway
Brooklyn, NY

(My friend Kyle is guest editing today’s Roller-Fiction Retrospective. He’s seen more movies than God – Oh Mars)

1986′s Solarbabies chronicles the adventures of a group of rollerskating teenagers imprisoned in an orphanage run by the fascistic Eco Protectorate. The film stars Jason Patric and Jami Gertz, who would reunite the next year in Joel Schumacher’s seminal “Twilight” prequel “The Lost Boys,” and was directed by Alan Johnson, who for obvious reasons was never allowed to get behind a camera again after its release.

Moments after the title sequence (created in Microsoft Powerpoint!) ends we are introduced to the film’s rollerskating gimmick: the futuristic sport of Skateball, a Rollerballish mishmash of hockey and lacrosse. After narrowly defeating the state-sponsored Scorpions, the Solarbabies are pursued into a complex network of inexplicably smooth-floored caves, where the group’s youngest member discovers “Bodhai,” the narrative’s Deus Ex Retardica. As a glowing alien orb, it’s Bodhai’s duty to lead the ‘babies in a revolution against the obviously evil Eco Protectorate, which uses its monopoly of the world’s scarce water supply mostly to manufacture baby blue patent leather police uniforms and confine heartthrob celebuteens in an easily escapable hole-digging facility somewhere in the middle of the Nevada desert.

One of the film’s most exciting sequences takes the form of a chase between the Solarbabies and two motorcycle cops across the not-at-all sandy, rocky, or jagged desert floor which culminates in a genre-required death-defying leap. Cause if there’s one thing that roller skates can do which motorcycles can’t it’s go fast enough to make a totally sweet jump over a four foot long post-apocalyptic broken bridge.

After a series of perilous misadventures the Solarbabies eventually make it to the Eco Protectorate’s evil lair, where they defeat dozens of armed guards by taking advantage of the kind of speed and maneuverability that only a well-oiled pair of four-wheelers can provide. The climactic fight, which presciently involves a self-aware Torturebot 9000, ultimately concludes in two villain deaths that are way too violent for a kids movie and a vaguely sexual parting speech from the floating alien orb.

Solarbabies cements its position within the canon of post-apocalyptic rollerskating films through its strict adherence to genre conventions and complete lack of plausibility. Repeated viewings inspire audience members to experience a kind of delirious ecstasy that perfectly mirrored the mindsets of the film’s perpetually dehydrated and possibly mentally challenged characters and left me impatiently waiting for total environmental devastation and the inevitable realization of the film’s delightful vision of the future.

Our Roller-Fiction Retrospective continues tomorrow with The Rollerblade 7.

And in case you missed Part 1, Prayer of the Rollerboys, check it out here.

Hank Moody returns for another season of getting laid, getting paid, and “wrestling with the blank page.” However, with Karen in NY and Hank raising Becca on his own, the getting laid part isn’t so easy anymore. This is evident in the opening of the premiere, with Hank asleep as a naked woman rides him. He explains to the woman as she storms out, this daddy thing isn’t so simple, he barely has time to even “get loaded” anymore. Becca has time though, especially with Hank’s dope…

Hank is also having trouble getting his latest work published. Devoted agent Charlie Runkle isn’t living the life of banging porn stars or jacking off in his office anymore. He’s uncomfortably under the tumb of Sue Collini (Kathleen Turner), his perverted boss with hazy sexual harrassment beliefs. I actually couldn’t believe that was Kathleen Turner at first; this is the same woman from Body Heat?! It looks like Bizarro Kathleen Turner ate Matty Walker.

This episode was pretty mediocre but set us up for a season of Hank nailing TAs and (hopefully) nailing Felcia, played by the sultry Embeth Davidtz. — That mangina shot went on way too long.

Iron Maiden - The Number of the Beast (1982)

Vs.

Mercyful Fate – Don’t Break the Oath (1984)

The Game is simple… if only one could exist which would it be?  What’s more important… personal relevance, cultural significance, or simply being the better album all other things aside? Choice is yours…

The Мишка 2010 calendar is coming out in the next couple weeks and I shot way too many girls for it! There are load of set-ups and ladies who unfortunately aren’t going to make the cut of 13 for the calendar.  However I’m going to be posting a bunch of those outtakes and cut shots over the next month.

This first one is of Asa Akira and Renee Perez.   When I was shooting these two for Penthouse I also shot this image for the calendar.  Asa and Renee are so hot together!

Check out the NSFW picture after the jump!

(more…)

Coming all the way from Korea, our good friend JS from the shop Buried Alive stopped by 350 Broadway yesterday to say “Hey”. While he was here he made sure to scoop up one of our in-store exclusive Cold War Beanies which we’ve brought back from the dead. Winter’s coming and it’s getting cold out there so make sure you swing by and grab one for yourself!

Мишка
350 Broadway
Brooklyn, NY

J/M/Z to Marcy Ave.
G to Broadway
L to Lorimer

Lullabye Arkestra – Threats/Worship (2009) [Vice] // Grade: B

If the electricity of Lullabye Arkestra’s second release Threats/Worship could be summed up by a single element, it’d be Kat Taylor-Small’s bat-shit insanely awesome voice. This girl is terrifying to the core: the screaming, hissing, warbling, moaning. And the way her vocals layer with other half Justin Small’s equally rough-edged, slightly boozy howl? It makes even the album’s so-so moments worth a repeat listen.

But then, none of that is totally fair, because Threats/Worship can’t be defined by one itty-bitty piece. Its raw, aggressively metal influence—a pretty notable style shift from the lush garage of the band’s last release Ampgrave—is way too visceral to pin down. From the fierce bass riffs of “Get Nervous” to the panic-attack intensity of “This Is A Storm” and “We Fuck The Night” (which sounds like a doom version of Motorhead faves Girlschool), Threats/Worship doesn’t so much capture the spirit of a live show as it does a violent, bloody riot. The album eases up only occasionally—on the anthemic violin breakdown of “Surviving The Year Of The Wolves”, for instance, or the sludgy instrumental “Fog Machine”—but when it does, it proves that though they write consistently bad-ass riffs, the duo are brilliant with melody and composition too. It’s a pretty irresistible combo.

Threats/Worship isn’t flawless, of course, but the flawed tracks aren’t so much bad as they are just out of place. The very Kills-like “Fog Machine”, though an interesting mid-point break, feels a bit staid on the otherwise manic release. And album closer “Sad Sad Story”—a Dolly Parton-esque country jam with no riffs in sight—strays way too far from the Threats/Worship course, even if it is a truly gorgeous  interpretation. Tuck those tracks away for a few solo listens; Threats/Worship is best experienced monstrous energy fully in tact.