The recent death of the Macho Man, Randy Savagem has stirred the emotions and temperaments of professional wrestling’s biggest superstars. Now the pot has boiled over and landed atop Hulk Hogan. James Helwig, better known as the Ultimate Warrior of the WWF, was videotaped airing some major grievances with Mr. America, sparing no cheap shots, as part of a 45-minute Hulk Hogan tell-all that hits the internet this Friday. The collection of interviews, including a couch-side correspondence with Terry Bollea on the state of his relationship with Randy Savage of which I believe is taken from an A&E documentary produced earlier this year, aims to build a case against the Hulkster as a snake in the grass liar with loyalty only to his self-indulgent urges.

This bashing takes place outside of the ring as The Ultimate Warrior, bearing resentments that have consumed him for who knows how long, finally makes good on his threats to post a video exposing Hogan for being a backstabbing greaseball. After the assault on The Hulkamaniac’s integrity, Warrior comes out looking pretty slimy himself, resorting to finger-pointing and slander, when we all know the real way to settle wrestling beef is on the mat. Fidelity problems within one’s marriage and drug tribulations are trivial yet sacred grounds that legitimize any legal action that might be, and is in the process of being, taken in court.

We may never know if Warrior’s accusations hold any water and if Hulk is the conniving turncoat he is alleged to be or if this is a product of jealousy over Hogan’s long and fruitful career whereas the character of Ultimate Warrior has faded into obsolescence with the likes of other gimmicky beefcakes that time forgot such as Junkyard Dog, Iron Sheik, and Sergeant Slaughter. His condemnations better be backed by physical readiness because I have the feeling that Hulk Hogan isn’t just going to take this blow to the ego with a grain of salt. Information or misinformation, we’ve got some juicy gossip that eclipses any drama Vince McMahon could’ve aroused.

“Ya know, being the only wrestler that said ‘no’ to so many things in wrestling, I bet I’m the only guy that ever said ‘no’ to doing your wife” – The Ultimate Warrior [in reference to Hulk Hogan and his ex-wife Linda].

Brad Renfro, an actor perhaps best known for playing the long-suffering, babyfaced Josh in the essential Ghost World, died in 2008 of a heroin overdose. Afterward, he was not included in the Oscars reel of Hollywood denizens who had died during the course of that year, which many considered a wildly insensitive oversight. In an ironic twist, one of last year’s Oscar hosts has created a permanent tribute to Renfro by carving his name into their arm with a switchblade like a disturbed goth kid with a crush.

The whole process was painstakingly documented for art publication The Thing Quarterly, which asks notable people in artistic fields to create an object that somehow incorporates text. Each package also includes a mirror with “BRAD FOREVER” handwritten in lipstick by the celebrity. An intentionally scarred-up arm and make-up smeared everywhere – Anne Hathaway’s stylist is going be so pissed when she hears about this!

I kid, of course – what other actor would turn self-mutilation into hiiiigh ahhhrrt but the pretentious polymath that is James Franco? Also, how much longer can he keep pulling these bizarre moves before high school girls take down their posters of him because he’s just, like, too weird? You would think his short film, The Feast of Stephen, in which he wears a penis on his face, would have been the clincher, but his certified heartthrob status is still pretty solid. Maybe instead of eschewing him, we’ll see a rash of his more obsessed fans pull copycat moves and scar “JAMES” into their biceps. Maybe his next art project should be a slow-motion, black and white anti-self-harm PSA, just in case.

Photo by Aliya Naumoff

Although she had been mostly quiet for a few years, Everyone’s favorite Riot Grrrl (or at least ours) Kathleen Hanna has been slowly and surely moving back into the spotlight as she and the world at large start embracing her artistic legacy. Hanna recently dropped not one but TWO new interviews. First she ruffled a few feathers in a recent interview with CNN (of all places) and she spoke out over at Spinner as well. when she made some bold claims surrounding the contemporary, often-times dismal, landscape that is popular music. The outspoken artist had spent enough time cutting her teeth spazzing out in Sonic Youth videos, penning Nirvana song titles, and creating seminal feminist-leaning albums throughout the 90′s and early aught’s, that when she has something to say, folks generally tend to take heed. While the interview begins in a typically mundane CNN’y fashion, Hanna’s responses quickly take a turn for the entertaining when the line of questioning shifts to the current cast of gals who populate Top 40 radio.

After big-upping Ke$ha’s initial smash hit “Tik Tok”, Hanna digs her heels in, clenches her teeth, and really starts spitting some venom. While her comments may at first seem rather blunt, they are mostly dead on, as she set her cross hairs on the ultra-popular Katy Perry and Lady Gaga. Her most appropriately scathing sentiment surfaces when she refers to the mostly ham-fisted manner in which each of these pop stars have cultivated their public image… she claims “just because you’re wearing a goofy hat doesn’t make it performance art.” One would hope this could act as a rallying cry for the newly developing crop of budding pop stars who may just now be slipping into their first ever pair of tiny hot pants.

Members of Rock n’ Roll’s (I use the term lightly) boys club don’t get off scott free either, as the front woman throws a couple of jabs at some of the worst representatives the genre has to offer. While Hanna never really goes into specifics when dealing with either Jason Mraz or James Blunt, I tend to believe her claim that Blunt’s new single may very well be the “worst thing that has ever been created on the face of the earth”. The former Bikini Kill member, and Le Tigre vocalist also spends a nice chunk of the interview venting on the resurging interest in feminism amongst coming-of-age girl, as well as her group’s new DVD, which recently dropped, and is entitled Who Took The Bomp? Le Tigre on Tour.

In her subsequent Spinner interview, Hanna spend s lot of time discussing the new tour documentary and even touches on a bit about Odd Future and their recent brush up with Tegan & Sara. While she admits she isn’t a fan or all that familiar, Hanna offers up the sage advice that if what’s said bothers you don’t listen to it and don’t publicize it bu publicly complaining about it to your fanbase.

Might I also suggest before I depart, that you read Hanna’s responses to the interviewer’s queries aloud, attempting to mimic the gentle valley-girl lilt found in her distinct speaking voice. It’ll be guaranteed fun for all parties involved!

Most of our readers do not strike me as your average American Idol fans, so perhaps you missed our loud mouthed celebrity apprentice mopster, Lil Jon on the show during the season finale. The episode featured our valiant bass soldier performing “Come Get Some” in order to hype up the crowd for TLC (R.I.P. Left Eye) who went on to perform a medley of “Scrubs” and “Waterfalls.”

I definitely had that album and i would be lying if I said that “Creep” and “Red Light Special” off of CrazySexyCool weren’t supreme boner jams for me… but going by this I take it the Bloglin as a whole have a huge boner for the ladies and songs of TLC.

So whay am I talking about American Idol? Because Lil’ Jon was strutting his stuff on the red carpet and stage wearing our Famous Stars and Straps collaboration Kill’em All jacket and cap. I think Randy Jackson even said “Yo Dog! I dig your crazy swag!” to him. Lil’ Jon’s been a crazy primetime ambassador for us the past few months.

We still have some of these bad boys available so don’t sleep on your WWII swag!

Hide yo’ kids, hide yo’ wife! A woman living in Arlington, Virginia named Rhonda Baron recently claimed that her bedroom, where Jim Morrison lived as a child, was visited by Morrison’s ghost three times ten years after he died. She should be so lucky, right? Actually, it kind of sounds like she’s not making it up, based on what she claims Morrison’s ghost did each time he swung by her room: True to form, Morrison, who made a habit out of routinely sexing up his fans as well as female rock stars like Nico and Grace Slick, went straight for her bed.

“The spirit laid down on the bed. Completely laying down and  looking at me like this. It was like a haze,” Baron said of the experience, which is hysterical because that probably describes exactly what it was like to sleep with his human incarnation. Doesn’t it make sense that he would just plunk down expectantly on the bed and wait for whichever star-struck groupie he was with that day to service him? Too good. I’m just surprised he didn’t try to get away with the activities so lovingly detailed in “Back Door Man” …now that would make for a hauntingly good time.

No, I’m not kidding. The other day I was killing time around the city, that’s what all the cool kids do here, when I stumbled across one of those bookstores I’ve heard so much about and decided to peruse. After what seemed like hours, having mined every square inch of that establishment for solid material, I was about to give up. Then we locked eyes.

Seth Rogen was gawking at me with his beady eyes, sideways smirk, and that award-winning double chin. Let me stop now and clarify a couple of things, it was, in actuality, a two-dimensional black and white drawing of the tubby actor that I spotted and you can be sure he wasn’t really looking at me, probably just wondering what he was doing on the cover of this zine.

The image had drawn me in, I was about to flip through 32 pages of the stoner comedy hero’s cock and balls. Christopher Schulz, the editor for Pinups Magazine, one of the top gay bear art publications in the beard-osphere, compiled some pretty detailed pencil sketches of the actor, simply titled Seth, in various positions including a full-frontal dick display and backdoor scrotum examination.

Is this somebody’s fetishistic wet dream come to fruition or something for art snobs to leave on their coffee table as a conversation piece for them and their cats? You decide. If so inclined, Seth can be purchased from Pinups Magazine. Try not to sticky up the pages too much.

Oooooh, noooooooooooo! Beloved seven-time world champion wrestler Macho Man Randy Savage, AKA Randall Mario Poffo (what an adorable last name for a professional tough guy!), died this morning at only 58 years old. He had a heart attack behind the wheel and crashed his car around 10 AM earlier today.

Macho Man spent the ’80s and ’90s winning championship after championship, and delivering some of wrestling’s greatest outfits and pre-match interviews ever. And then of course there were his terrifying advertisements for Slim Jims. I swear I used to hear “ART THOU BORED?!?” in my nightmares.

After retiring from wrestling, he spent his final years releasing a classic rap album, Be a Man, complete with a Hulk Hogan diss track, and marrying his longtime girlfriend, Lynn Payne, who was with him in the car but sustained only minor injuries. Pour one out for the man whose elbow drops and trademark snarling inspired tons of our grade-school classmates to send one another to the nurse’s office. After the jump take in a few of Macho Man’s choicest interview clips. Rest easy, Macho Man. There will never be another like you.

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That’s it guys. We made it. The shit just got real. Donald Trump has had a face full of Mishka gear for the past few months, as it seems Lil Jon has worn nothing but our Americana pieces for his entire tenure on The Celebrity Apprentice. Let’s hope that it got him far. Godspeed to you Lil Jon, may you “yeaaaah” yourself all the way to the finals.

The Americana stuff has really taken off in the rap game actually. Lil Wayne sported that shit on his album cover, and now it got us on national TV.  I’m pretty sure Gary Busey is on this season of the show as well. Dream conversation: Busey: “Hey Little Jon, where’d you get that awesome hat?” Jon:  “Miiiishka!” Busey: “Can I get a bunch of other satanic stuff there?” Jon: “Yeahhhh!”. Then Busey comes to the store and we’re all friends. Just think about it.

Some artists are held in high regard for their whole lives. Picasso was acknowledged as a genius before he hit his teens and everyone still worships him. Most of us aren’t so lucky. In the back of every creative person’s mind, I have to assume, is a voice that asks,”When I wake up tomorrow are people going to no longer care about the things I make?” For every The Beatles there were thousands of bands with equally silly names who had passion, talent, intelligence and charisma and they just never got anywhere close to achieving their life’s greatest desire. The world is cruel.

We all like to imagine ourselves as the heroes of a movie that we star in but what happens when the exciting part of your life ends before your ready for it to? When I was three I told my mother that “Brave days come and sad days come.” One day you’re up and the next you’re down. One day your show’s up at the Mishka store and the next some of it is stacked in the back office and the rest is in a warehouse while Dust La Rock‘s art adorns the walls now. I don’t begrudge the guy his taking my spot. He put together a rad show and the opening night was was a beautiful time that upped the TOPI Youth.

I had to keep reminding myself that I only needed one of these B.K. Scum mix CDs to keep from scooping them all up. This is a really nice mix and if you think “Oh it’s just some “best of” bullshit, I know everything.” Then you better shut your mind’s mouth up because it also features Gen talking about stuff over it.

My pal Thomas’ car is full of the Psychic TV live albums that look just like this and we listen to them on roadtrips. “Do I want to hear PTV play the version of Roman P that starts off with Gen yelling “One and a two and a doogie doogie doo!” or a different one?” He’ll mutter to himself while shuffling through the little cardboard CD sleeves like they were playing cards. “Jesus Christ! Keep your hands on the wheel!” I usually shout in response.

Noted tattooist, JK5 was milling around, being a positive man with a lot of rings and tattoos. I like photographing his hands. There’s more going on on this man’s hand than in most party buses.

Hey, Handsome Man, what’s that growth coming out of your neck? Oh, it’s just Michael Cohn! Haw haw haw! I hope he is benign.

As you may have read in the interview I conducted with Gen, we both fall asleep watching “mindless television.” Gen likes things pertaining to science and nature and I like Kids in the Hall. There’s one sketch featuring the Sizzler sisters where they are holding up a bank and start pointing at people and saying “You two, fall in love!” I’ve been using this technique when I take photos a lot lately, especially in group shots.

With this photo I said “You girls hate this guy and he doesn’t know it!” You should try this, it is ridiculous how well this trick works for getting interesting photos.

Goddamn pigs. That’s not a drink caddy.

This Psychic Cross guitar not only worked but it was plugged into a powered amp. People would casually graze their fingers across it.

I mentioned it to Thomas and he told me he would have just played the opening riff to Satisfaction over and over again.

This is Мишка’s art director,  Mike Jones and his hilarious girlfriend Julia Segal.

This is her funny Weezy shirt and hilarious boobs.

Good badges.

Here’s Dust La Rock who made the pieces in the show with Genesis he/rself.

Gen had some great badges as well, most of them having been Lady Jaye’s. I saw s/he was sporting a Vaughn Bode cloisonne and explained who Bode was to Gen. I felt very cool.

Jesus walked on the water but Genesis walks on the bar. Gen proselytized for he/r belief in ultimate freedom and changing the way you were and becoming new people. The audience loved it and respectfully remained silent and avoided setting off their flashes.

We all laughed at Gen’s jokes, enjoyed the sharp English slithery quality of he/r voice which is friendly but always feels a little menacing. At the end we all were moved by Gen’s reading and applauded heartily.

Ryan from Dais Records took this photo of me with Gen and s/he signed a Psychick Bible for me. It’s hard not to want to talk with Gen. S/he has amazing stories and is an interested conversational partner. It’s easy to forget that this is the person who created so many beautiful things I know, popularized ideas that are commonplace nowand has done and been everything.

This isn’t the best photo of either of us but it doesn’t have to be. When I got involved with Мишка years ago I never imagined that I would witness something as boss as what I saw happen on Friday.

Look, it’s Ellen Stagg. I told her she was like a beautiful elf creature and that photos didn’t capture her beauty. She told me I looked like a hobbit.

I was talking to this woman while she told me about how much she liked my interview with Gen and only realized that she was Star Eyes, the DJ, when we decided to follow each other on Twitter.

A few people actually approached me to say just how much they liked my interview. And while that felt good, what felt great was that they all mentioned liking it for the reasons I had hoped they would. I had wanted them to get it and they did. Star Eyes mentioned wanting OJ of X-Ray Eyeballs to show up and present her with one of the tees that I drew for the band.

And he did! And then OJ reminisced about wanting to see Lesa, a Мишка Mastress, who he was once good friends with and she was right behind him. I had wanted to have a good time and feel connected to other people and I did.

It was an evening where it seemed like wishing for things aloud would make them appear. I left the event wanting nothing more.

I started this article talking about how grim the world of creativity can be and trailed off to talk about other things. Maybe I was just being overly dramatic. If the internet forgot about me tomorrow I’d probably just find something else I enjoyed doing and become a new person.

Meh. Right? I’m pretty sure I don’t care anymore. Another year, another boring Oscars with predictable results. Another waste of 3 hours of my life I could’ve spent doing worthwhile things, like the activity mentioned in the title or, y’know, anything else. Did I hate The King’s Speech? Not at all. Did I think it was the best movie of the year? Certainly not. Do I think any of the nominees were the best movie of the year? God no. Do I understand that that is what the Oscars stand for? Absolutely.

My favorite parts of last night were the moments where some of the people involved chose to point out the inherent ridiculousness of the situation, where hundreds of famous people gather in a big room to smell each other’s farts for a few hours. Special shout out to the legend Kirk Douglas for just generally being an old ass dude and fucking with everyone. Some people thought it was awkward, I found it hysterical. Also Spielberg for pointing out that some of the best movies of all time have been totally snubbed by the Academy.

Some thoughts. This is the blog for a clothing company, so I’d feel remiss not to include a little fashion commentary. Good year for red dresses. I thought Penelope Cruz, Sandra Bullock, Jennifer Lawrence, and Anne Hathaway all looked gorgeous. Way to go ladies. No one really shit the bed too bad, which was disappointing. Nicole Kidman I guess, that was pretty dumb and Keith Urban’s face is starting to look exactly like her face. Also, Mark Wahlberg’s wife always looks so angry, it’s unsettling.

The opening spoof thing was unfunny, except for the part where James Franco was the bear dude in True Grit. Medium-to-low lulz factor. I like Back To The Future as much as the next guy, but why now? Does not compute…. I like that Franco came out filming on his cellphone. Why the fuck not? If you can’t tell yet, I really hate the Oscars and basically am on board with any sort of subversion of it’s self importance. I guess I’m still stinging from all those ludicrous awards The Hurt Locker won last year (Best Original Screenplay? SERIOUSLY?).

All in all, the hosts were pretty blah. Not to say that I think others would’ve been much better. It’s just inherently boring. I like Anne Hathaway, and James Franco, but they were mostly absent. Franco’s good looks and natural charisma couldn’t even get a rise out of my girlfriend or gay best friend, who accompanied me on last nights voyage through various levels of aggressive mediocrity. I don’t even think a Banksy appearance could’ve saved it (though it would’ve helped).

Highlight of the evening was Trent Reznor winning an Oscar, because that’s just pretty fucking crazy. That was a good thing. Hologram Bob Hope: bad thing. David Seidler’s acceptance speech was my favorite of the evening. Very classy, and funny. Sorkin was good too. Was kind of hoping he was going to thank cocaine. Alas. Scott Rudin is such a baby, I can’t believe he didn’t show up just because he knew The Social Network was pretty much dead on arrival due to the loathsome yet commendable work of the Weinstein hype monster.

I sort of felt bad for David Fincher, but I guess this is karmic retribution for The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button. David, if you’re reading this (you’re not), everyone else might have forgotten about that cinematic shit-sandwich, but I sure didn’t. Some heavy hitters in the In Memoriam. Also, what the fuck was up with those kids singing at the end? I mean, they were fine, and everyone likes that song, but those tee shirts. Who thought that was a good idea? It looked so bush-league it was embarrassing. Why couldn’t they have put them all in funny little mini-tuxes?

Ummm, did anything else happen? Did anyone else notice that Tom Hooper looks exactly like circa 1995 James Cameron? Because he does. It’s weird. I guess Melissa Leo said “fuck” but who cares? To me, it sucked just as much as every other Oscars ceremony has, pretty much for as long as I can remember. But honestly, I don’t have a better idea. Still can’t believe I didn’t watch the Knicks game…