Remember Good Guys Don't Wear White

These two cream puffs remind of a song by those straight edge kids that went something like:

I'm a poor boy born in a rut,
Some say my manners ain't the best.
Some of my friends, they've been in a whole lot of
trouble,
Some say I'm no better than the rest.
But tell your mama and your papa,
Sometimes good guys don't wear white.
Everyday I work hard,
At night I spend a restless time.
But those rich kids and all their lazy money,
Can't hold a candle to mine.
So tell your momma and your papa,
Sometimes good guys don't wear white.
Good guys, bad guys -- which is which?
The white collar worker, or digger in the ditch,
Man, who's to say who's the better man?
Of those two, I do the best I can.
You thought I had a dirty mind,
All the messed up chicks, all the changing times,
White filth and easy living.
You can't come come close to the love that I've given,
But tell your momma and your papa,
Sometimes good guys don't wear white,
They don't wear white.

And for those of you following along at home, remember, a clear sign of bad manners is wearing white shoes before Easter or after Labor Day. Thanks for etiquette tip, Murse! Now somebody needs to pass the word along to Siegfried and Roy

Pushed-Ups

This following story appeared on the world wide internet on August 26th:

The Annual Push-Up Contest was held yesterday at Vice. Good stuff. Gavin, Trevor, Saul, Bryce, Dietz (who removed his dress shoes and had stellar Jack Lelaine form), Thobey, Suroosh, Eric ("He's a doughboy!"--Melissa, "He's a croissant!"--Gavin. Eric is French Canadian), Jesse, and Thomas all competed. Saul was in the lead with 47 for awhile, but then Thobey, the youngest and most spritely, did 51 in a cross-legged pose.

Though this event predates 'Rumors,' it paints an accurate representation of the misdirected machismo permeating this place. Luckily, one of the minions, Sue Smith, recorded the results. What I find interesting about the report is who's missing from the challenge. The traditional heavy hitters of the company were either nowhere to be found or, say it ain't so, afraid to compete. Those AWOL include no less than the three stooges of VICE: John Martin, Ryan Duffy and Shane Smith. And before you get all worked up into a no push-uping lather, I am not referrring to the Moe, Larry, and Curley, stooges, but the more idiotic ones from Detroit, who thought playing in a Doors cover band with Jimmy Osterburg was the cat's meow.

We Eat Pussy

In fact, some braniac here apparently wrote the fucking book! To get the whole shebang loaded with critical additional missives and directives you must, whether you like shopping or not, shop here. The perfect stocking stuffers for those who love stuffing stockings.

Katrina To Wit

What a fucking shit storm Hurricane Katrina laid on the Gulf Coast. Check these videos from Frontline, especially the one by Kennard Jackley of New Orleans. While Mr. Jackley is clearly a badass old codger, curiously he sounds just like that long lost, musical shit storm, Jon Wayne. And if listening to Jon streaming Texas Jackin Ledge doesn't put you in a sympathetically disastrous state of mind nothing I can ever suggest will.

New Issue Online

Mr. Best, Where Did It All Go Wrong?

So, it is said, the man from room service inquired as he delivered vintage champagne to the former football genius in his suite at a plush hotel. There was £20,000 in cash scattered on the bed which also contained the current Miss Universe. In today's laddish world, the remark may seem laughable. Yet the waiter had a point. George Best had squandered one of the rarest and most precious football talents ever seen in favour of a self-indulgent merry-go-round of birds and booze. George Best died today. The guy was a fucking superstar and a train wreck at the same time, like most all of us.

"I spent a lot of money on booze, birds and fast cars - the rest I just squandered."
"I used to go missing a lot...Miss Canada, Miss United Kingdom, Miss World..."
"In 1969 I gave up women and alcohol. It was the worst 20 minutes of my life."

Read the BBC obituary. It is fascinating. He was some lad but one who really did drink himself straight to death.

Like Shopping? Buy This!

The newest VICE Doll is the Eddy Moretti. Next to Thomas Morton, aka Baby Balls, he is the most amazing character in VICE’s house of dazzle. The charismatic and macho Moretti is the Steve McQueen of VICE, well except for the motorcycle crashing and gonorrhea business. Eddy is certain to become one of the decade's most soughtafter VICE figurines forever defining the qualities looked for in cinematic action heroes. Can you feel the style through your screen?

Ben Franklin & The Politically Incorrect Turkey Farmer

Did you know that the day we celebrate as Thanksgiving was supposed to be a fast? That is what Ben Franklin says of the first American overeatathon. It took one politically incorrect farmer to change the course of history. When the government tried to impose a fast, he called for a grand feast—thanksgivings—so that Americans could celebrate their bounty and nourish their bodies, not lament their hardships through hunger. We love Ben Franklin at VICE for writing, "Rules on Making Oneself Disagreeable" and penning such a nifty cartoon. Support or Die!

More Superstars in the VICE Stable

Malcolm "Tennessee Tuxedo" Campbell is our new wisecracking Group Publisher who resides on City Island, north of NYC, where he dry docks his boats, his wives and his children. Like his cartoon namesake (you think I would use his real picture? the guy is our secret weapon and he needs to remain covert) Malcolm is endlessly and valiantly scheming in an attempt to raise the renown of the VICE brand. I am sure he is up to the challenge, as he could talk a hungry dog off a meatwagon. And Lordy, you had best hide the Jack Daniels when he and his kinfolk visit. So Happy Thanksgiving to us! You can imagine his dim-witted pal, Chumley the Walrus, representing anyone you wish. Hooray for make believe.

Bored With Classical Music?

The other day a friend at VICE told me that whenever he needs his classical music fix he just calls an institution certain to leave him on hold for vast tracks of time. Alone in certain customer service messaging systems you will be subjected not only to those rare, yet extended, doses of melody, harmony, rhythm, tone, and form but also to a mind boggling maze of unwanted options. The problem with this classical music for phonies approach is the endless inane commentary and contradictory advice punctuating the soothing. Being on hold is truly one of the great disasters of the modern world! Add to this the fact that you know things won't go well when you finally get through to your particular service operator or agent, and the dread can be debilitating. Well fear no more rich kids, a genius has come to our rescue. Paul English has created a cheat sheet to get you to a human representative with a quickness. Give it a try and laugh at the suckers you have pushed deeper into the pile.

Can You Spot The Band of The Year?

The boys have done exactly what Suroosh Alvi and Adam Shore predicted and taken the whole ball of wax for 2005! Why anyone would want even a partial ball of wax in the modern world is a bit of a mystery! Regardless, URB Magazine has presented VICE Records Bloc Party with one. And goddamn, MIA is hot!

But in the world of what have you done for me lately this just fluttered across the wire.

Either Rain Or Sloots Or Even Blow

Problems with the mail? Ask Intern Billy! The thing with interns is they don't like to go to the mailbox and they have no mottos about bad weather, bad girls, or bad drugs. So when VICE Records outgoing mail stacked up all over the front of the office, Rob gently asked the kids in the front of the class about it. The old intern blushed deep crimson while the rest milled about in their gmail accounts. When cornered, however, La Czarina de la Oficina, Melissa Burgos bellowed, "Do it your damn self!" Needless to say a lot of people from the back of the office came forward to take care of their own damn postal things.

CobraSnaked

There have long been whispers in the halls here of a new web site devoted to the steamy back side of our young friend Mark the Cobra Snake. But sometimes the boys get ahead of themselves with the talking, and in concert with a stunning array of mixed powders and tinctures they falter. So forgive them if they are a bit slow out of the gate on this for they seemed to have lost abit of focus as of late. Call them and ask, "Hey what gives?" That is what I am screamin'!

Wu Tang Clank

Our intrepid field ops have just unearthed another telling little dandy from the dirty jeans of VICE's past. Our glorious leader's business card, circa 1995!

Is that a breakdancer I spy? Talk about headspinning. My mind is reeling and someone's face is surely reddening on this one, dear readers. So let's adjourn from our gentle poking of egos and commence with the laughter which springs eternal from the folly of youth, or say, one's early 30's. Youngsters what fools! Haha. More incriminating documentation is sure to rear its ugly and unmissed head so stay tuned.

UPDATED!
Well, tracked down the original idea man behind this card's design and Mr. McInnes admitted, "I designed them. I'm the one responsible. It was a TV filter that just came out on the internet after one of the earlier photoshop. I think it was called "retroscan." That's why the breakdancers look like they're on TV. And the bees swarming all over the text were killer bees from the Wu Tang. The crumpled up text was also a very cornball photoshop thing going around at the time. I had just learned graphic design at the time and wanted to use every trick available.

It's All Lord Of The Flies

I like the TV show LOST. I have seen every episode and I plan to keep watching despite the heckling of my co-workers. I dig that there is mysterious and weird shit going on but then of course I am a nerd. So as my special friend was reading to me from an article in The Village Voice on the subway last night I started flashing back to the funny papers. It suddenly hit me that two of my favorites seemed to be mixed up like say the chocolate and the peanut butter or perhaps the methamphetamine and, well, nevermind. It had seriously crossed my mind that LOST is the new Calvin and Hobbes! Sounds nutty but look at what people with jobs are saying.

Joy Press notes the obvious and writes in the Voice about LOST "...the series doesn't stint on ideas. Take the timely theme of the struggle between faith and reason: LOST pits the hunky, ultra-rational surgeon Jack Shephard against true believer John Locke. (How impish is that, naming him after the father of empiricist rationality!)"

While Neely Tucker of the Washington Post writing about Calvin and Hobbes said: “There were clues all along that this was about more than slapstick. Calvin was named for the 16th-century Protestant theologian who believed in predestination, Hobbes for the philosopher a century later who once observed that life is "nasty, brutish and short." Miss Wormwood, Calvin's teacher, was named after the apprentice devil in "The Screwtape Letters."

See what I mean. Same story? Maybe just perhaps. Different imaginations? For sure. The long and the short of it is that Calvin and Hobbes, a comic strip, is much deeper than television will ever be and while LOST is good TV today, Calvin and Hobbes is genius forever. And if the playful old scenario came true and I had to chose one book and one long playing record album to be stranded on my desert island with for all eternity, the book would be easy. The record will have to wait for another day but I assure you a record it will be.

Scat Cratch Fever

Again with the toilets?
Whereas last time the Crack VICE Shit Jockey Investigative Team of MB & TM quickly determined that the culprit (Ben Dietz) had been subsisting for weeks on pickles and milk, this time there were clearly remnants of both prosciutto and melon. Again, with this clue alone the guilty party was immediately identified. Italiano perhaps?

And since this seems to be a recurring theme in offices round the world, our custodial E-Team agreed to make an instructional video. Email the link anonymously to the heavy hitters/eaters in your office to remind them to work in a vegetable now and again before gout sets in- or the bowl cracks.

VICE Records Employees At It Again

It is understandable when we see Pat Riley softening his crow's feet with daubs of foundation or Farkas rouging her cheeks to dazzle the lads but when Rob, our last hope for normalcy in VICE Records, is caught checking his lipstick provacatively it is disconcerting. Thankfully our highly illegal and poorly hidden bathroom cam nailed him mid purse and and now we know what to get him for Christmas.

Music's King Midas!

The lastest issue of Giant Magazine has listed Suroosh Alvi as the 22nd best at something. But because we were unable to take delivery of the new issue we can't really be sure of what. We can be sure, however, that he was referred to as Music's King Midas and whether he is the 22nd most powerful person in the world, the 22nd best dressed person in New York City or the holder of the 22nd best smile in Canada we are happy for him. Good things surely come in 22s! Grab the new Giant and see what's up or simply read the following Public Service Announcement.

As head of A&R for VICE Records Suroosh Alvi is responsible for introducing American listeners to the Stills, Chromeo and the Panthers. His pick for 2006 include new records by his superstar acts the Streets and Bloc Party.

How do you like them apples?

Our London Calling

Here is your chance to run with the big boys in London if you've got the stones, mate. Creighton and Capper are sure to have this thing wound tighter than Prince's undies. Look for Suroosh and Shane, the handsome devils as well as Pegah, the VICE UK mini-vixen with the microscopic bladder. At least I think that is why she is in the bathroom all the time. Oh, and while you are at it ask Capper to show you a picture of his girlfriend's ass. I am sure you haven't heard it before. Wanna see pics?

I Lost My Love to The VICE UK Pub.

Strange Things Afoot At Kasias

Our covert Bedford Avenue field operative reports several strange happenings
this afternoon at Kasias luncheonette:

Spotted at a table in front were none other than our Bensonhurst Bolsheivek, the Brooklyn bopper himself, Intern William Moore! Accompanying him was his lovely lady Lauren. The two furtively paid their bills, grabbed their kielbasas and skedaddled. What Tsarist Agenda was being plotted?

Also spied was a clandestine group of VICE office managers and an unknown, well dressed Mr. X. huddled around a table in back speaking in hushed tones. Was it about nefarious methods of debt collection or something more....sinister? Tune in next week, faithful rumor mulers.

editor's note: a photo slated to accompany this post was destroyed by one of the parties involved who shall not be named because in truth he scares us a bit. You see it is not all champagne and cabbage rolls for the Paparazzi of VICE heretofore referred to as CobraSnake wannabes.

The Legendary Brown Rope

Our ace in the hole at Vice, Gavin McInnes, got married 2 months ago and the stag upstate was unrivaled; days of lunacy punctuated by moments of some pretty cagey brilliance. One of the best moments was at a beautiful little swimming hole after we'd deftly given Jim McInnes and his Pirates of Pissed Pants the slip. Christien Primeaux, known for his hulking frame, hairy back and tiny twig like legs, slipped below a waterfall and found himself precariously perched over a steep drop. Below were rocks slippery and sharp. He was scared and we were all drunk and laughing when suddenly Stockbauer shrieked “throw him the brown rope, throw him the brown rope.” We all looked around anxiously as Christien started to scream, “No, please. Whatever you do, do not throw me that brown rope. Seriously, I'm about to fall!" It was then we realized Derrick Beckles was methodically making his way towards Chin all the while twirling his member like Will Rogers at a prison rodeo. The tears in Chin's eyes were priceless, his fall 6 feet onto the hard rocks hilarious. Lesson: grab the goddamn rope!

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The Pinkster
Fountain of Youth

More Booze Please

NASCAR was founded by illegal car driving bootleggers so I find it hilarious that last year's champion was kicked off his team for alledgedly driving recklessly and being under the influence while hot rodding around outside the Phoenix International Raceway. Kurt Busch was pulled over for trying to avoid another car and running a stop sign. Officers said he smelled of alcohol and became belligerent. Busch was not cited for alcohol; a breath test was inconclusive because the device failed. So isn’t that called innocent in America?

One of the pioneers in the bootlegging business was Junior Johnson, who went on to become one of the most successful NASCAR drivers of all time. Truthfully, this sport would probably have more fans if the guys were required to take a snootful of corn squeezin’s at every pit stop. In a world of nothing but left turns an added degree of difficulty would be welcomed.

When I was a kid my dad taught me to keep an unopened pint of whiskey under my seat in case I was ever pulled over in a similar circumstance. He said in the event, I should calmly get out of the car and in full view of the cops break the seal and drink the whole pint down. Then in a show of abject seriousness smash the bottle on the ground and say loudly, “That is the first drink I have had all night.” On my own I thought to add a short silent prayer that I wouldn’t be shot.

The never-ending irony here is that of liquor mega-giant Diageo, which sponsors Busch’s car with its Crown Royal whiskey brand. They stated, “Diageos does not condone this type of behavior from anyone affiliated with our brands or our business.” Nice support dickheads. I am certainly glad those hypocrites never knew about that Crown Royal under my seat or no pathetic little prayer to the gods could have protected me from such shade tree businessmen and their protectorate minions.

Dear Tonight Gone Tomorrow

We here at VICE pride ourselves on our musical dallainces and this here is our musical pride and joy of the moment, Ryan Duffy of Dear Tonight. Buy something from him and make us proud. You might even catch the Badassador and Bleauxdog thrashing about at their next gig.

The Office

The other day we were having some problems with the phone system in the office. We have this advanced IP phone action here at VICE that required the assistance of 3 Mormons and 2 days. Why Mormons? Beats me. Perhaps something about their special Mormon underwear grounding them in case of a stray electrical jolt. Or maybe they are just smarter. Regardless, try as they might they were unable to solve the problem. So there goes the smarter bit. It wasn't until John Martin engaged his finally tuned sense of sniff that we got to the bottom of this mystery. A quick perusal of of some recent security tapes yielded the following clue. Someone had accidently hung up a phone in a stray gentleman's underpants. Mystery solved though mysterious smells abound.

When One Gay Picture is Enough

Can You Hear Me Talkin'?

The kooks at Rocketboom come up with consistently interesting takes on the modern world 5 days a week and this riff makes me laugh on a Monday when the work telephone is absolutely the last thing I want to get trapped on and simultaneously the only friend I am certain to have. Watch the volume on your computer!

Back When People Wanted MTV

Do you remember the short-lived but kick-ass show on MTV called Liquid Television? The best bit was this anime short called Aeon Flux. It was about the smoking hot Aeon who was on a mission to kill seemingly pretty much everyone. It was super surreal and violent as hell. Think the anime scene in Kill Bill Vol. 1 about 400 years in the future. At the end of the original she is sitting in a gynecological stirrupchair in the middle of some ocean with waves crashing all around her while underneath her a creepy looking older guy licks the bottoms of her feet as she writhes in ecstasy. Fucking creepy and alluring at once. Thanks to my buddy who used to tape LT every week, I see we now have Aeon Flux the movie. And if it is half as wicked and weird and fucked up as the original animated work it could be cool.

Life Expectancy of a VICE Marketing Maven

Smarter Kids May Live Longer

A new study which followed elderly adults deemed gifted by childhood IQ tests, found that the higher their early IQs were, the longer they lived -- up to a point, at least. The survival advantage began to plateau after a childhood IQ of 163, an intelligence level few people reach.

If this conclusion is to be believed the Murse will be the first VICE marketing cat pushing up daiseys and talking the long downhill walk. Though it is assumed that LaWow's cholesterol is higher than a Georgian Pine.And I think we can all agree that the day can not come too soon. The rest of the pack will be tested asap so we can book accordingly for future advertising cycles. Prospective advertisers would be wise to ask for their AdRep's IQ score so as to ensure as long and as fruity, I mean fruitful, a relationship as possible.

Lost in Outer MySpace

MySpace sold for $580 million. I just found out it was a website. Or more specifically “a place for friends.” WTF? Even the old intern seemed to know about it and he is so out of touch he lugs a manual typewriter on airplane trips. What a racket that must make. Anyway back to MySpace. All along I thought it was a British television show about a bunch of dinks that work in some horrible office. I hate that show whatever it is called because it is so much like this office. Gavin is just like that annoying boss David Brent always guffawing and telling indecent jokes. He is cuter than that pudgy limey however. Plus he is Scottish which is infinitely cooler than British. Sorry Capper.

So now everywhere I turn people are saying look at my MySpace. I guess it is a good place to do coke and tell lies like the Blu Lounge in Williamsburg. And though the pages confuse me I have to admit that some of the tidbits are endlessly fascinating. Here is a nice gathering of the MySpace pages from our ADDVICE staff, the marketing wing of the VICE empire.

I am going to leave the names off and simply number them, as I’d like to protect their privacy: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Like Gambling? Gamble Here

Sometimes the leaders of this pack get to go and do cool stuff on someone else’s nickel. It is all business: you scratch my back and I’ll pull your underwear up over your head. Or something like that. Anyway, the A-Team recently took off for Atlantic City and a bit of gambling good times while the little people here spent the respite taking out the garbage and picking up after Thobey. And so it goes…

The Real Horror Issue

Psychotic murder bombers in Amman or Bali or Baghdad? Herpes? Avian Bird flu? No, Ipod Wars on the L Train is the kind of shit I can’t believe is out there waiting for me.

Feminist Icon or Cyberbimbo?

A bit back VICE Films met a man in a Mexican prison who kept asking why the crew hadn’t brought Laura Croft Tomb Raider to met him. Everyone was perplexed until he finally explained that the voice on our office exchange was exactly like the voice of the PlayStation 2 heroine. Weird what guys in prison know, huh? And the mere fact that you can call our office from inside a Mexican prison is a bit unsettling. Pegah Farahmand works for VICE in the UK where laughing is prohibited but talking like Laura Croft is encouraged at every turn. Give a call and prepare to melt to your knees.

Rent-A-Buddy

Just move to town? Or merely want people to think you have cool friends? Call Rent-A-Buddy. We will size up your situation and pretend to be friends with you as long as needed. Our dubiously trained cavalcade of tattooed pretty boys would be happy to come over and pound your sauce and rankle your neighbors. Beam us in whether you are in the mood for good time party companions or crazed nihilists as our guys can spin on a dime to meet any party theme demands that may arise. And don't forget our motto here at Rent-A-Buddy: "We get lonely too."

A Foolish Consistency Is The Hobgoblin Of Little Minds

Gentleman James Stockbauer embodies all the qualities we admire most in the Tourist-Businessman. I could go on about how James has been voted VICE readers' favorite businessman 4 out of the last 5 years but I'll let him tell you himself. Here are his tips to success written in his own unique voice.

1. Always travel with 3 pairs of shoes for every occasion: sport, dress and drinking;

2. Allow one day for actual business and 3-5 for leisurizing;

3. Spot a good initial drop off location for bags. It will be hard to determine when you might actually check into your hotel. Most upscale, posh places have a coat check. Why not substitute your coat for a bag? Few people have been known to steal luggage so don't worry. Plus chicks get suspicious of people carrying bags. You may come across homeless. No good. Travel as light as possible. Even leave your paper work behind. Hands-free to do more important work like gesturing;

4. Never give hotels your credit card number for reservations. Check into quaint B and B's or guest houses that are behind the curve on late check-in or no show policies. When late make exaggerated excuses as to why you were late. (i.e. a mugging, lost wallet, plane delay, family problems) They will understand if you explain in a duress-ed tone. Get down with the people on this. They are used to tons of problems and will understand and might even emphasize;

5. Line up entertainment far in advanced. You will need to neatly time your handovers so they do not interfere with the deal making. Never party with clients or customers. They will sense you are trying to gain an angle on them or that you might be just a party clown having fun in their fair city. Say no and say I never have a "drop" They will think your are a religious lad and therefore will assume honest;

6. Always, always go straight to the liqueur store first and buy several bottles of booze for you suitcase or room. Large cities will gouge you on drinks all the time. Be wary of hip day time bars that try to pawn off some dried or smoked fish as an exotic appetizers. A nice bottle and some mixers in your room is heaven. If your local Paki is out of mixers, try some exotic fruit blends. They bode nicely with your drink and give you the vitamin C the body needs for this type of work. You are an on-the-go tourist/businessman and you need to be fit for the day ahead;

7. Never be impressed or fooled by fancy accents from front desk clerks, porters, bell hops, taxi people, etc. Give them normal tips and don't feel sorry that they are struggling immigrants that deserve more attention or money. Don't fall prey to sympathy. It will drain you wallet quickly and you will be short on funds before your departure. Always keep $30 bucks hidden for the cab back to the airport;

8. Avoid local phrases or colloquial terms at business meetings. Especially in the Northern US. Don't act campy or southern because your prospect might think you are under-educated or a hillbilly type. Be direct and demand time frames from them. Do not let them slip loose with lame excuses or delays. Tell them the deal is now and the quote only lasts 30 days. Tell them " Delay will only drive up the costs. " Do not take any creative payment terms like 30 down, 30 at production and 30 upon inspection. They will usually fuck you on the later. Demand an irrevocable LC with a major banking institution. No Visa or Money orders ever;

9. Pay the $25 change of airfare always. Many a good intention to leave on time has been spoiled due to early binging or premature celebrations. A deal is a deal when you have been paid. Orders are a dime a dozen and meaningless;

10. Dress for meetings like you just hopped off your yacht or just arrived from your winter cabin. Don't even shave the day of the meeting, make them think you are doing great and are not desperate for their business. Never ask them about their wife or kids. Too much info to remember. You will be fumbling over that for years!!;

11. Number one rule, 80 percent of business is personality. They will definitely remember you if you turn on some dazzle. Most sales types are stiff and boring and very forgettable. You will rise far above them and have a fantastic time in the city of your sales destination. Keep your chin up, be happy and draw them into your world. They will want to join in and perhaps want to hang with your cool vibe. Some might even want to jump ship and join you in your quests. Conquer young man, conquer!!

Maybe It Is Who You Know

Tonight some of the Vice employees invited me to a party at a club in Fort Greene. It seemed kind of out of the way and everyone insisted on just meeting there. When I arrived there was no one from VICE around except the one kid with the little balls. I think they were pranking on me cuz I am the new old person. Anyway the people there were really good dancers so I took a picture and then walked home because I didn't have enough money for the subway.

Intern-A-Go-Go

Once the Big 3 thought it would be fun to stay out all night drinking before taking the interns deep sea fishing out in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn. Our captain was named Sorkin, a Russian from the neighborhood who seemed the perfect match when first spied drinking Stolichnaya from a paper-bagged bottle and eating fried pork rinds in front of Bernie's Bait & Tackle at 7am.

Sheepshead Bay has drawn metropolitan anglers and epicures since its founding in the early 1800's, he said. Anglers and epicures! Not drunken intern Billy ranting about tsarist agendas and Colorado Bull Dogs. But, well, and you can probably see the flaw in this evolving scenario, after we had been out in the Bay for a couple of hours, Sorkin tired of intern Billy. Hard to imagine, I know, but it seems Sorkin is a Doukhobor, which apparently is some kind of insane religious anarchist and I am not sure if he was unnerved by the blustery tsarist intrigue or he just folded under the weight of so many NYU students debasing his beloved vodka with a saccharine mix of coca-cola and Kahlua. Tough call really. Anyhow, he cut the short trip much to appreciation of Jessica and myself. Yet somehow amongst all the vomiting and staggering around on the deck no one but the Captain had noticed New Orleans Matt catching a cooler full of fucking fish. Sorkin was so jazzed when we finally got back to the dock laughing about college kids and small tits that he posed for this photo.

Sneak Peak?

If you ever find yourself wandering the politically correct world of how to characterize certain hunting and gathering cultures? An overhead Office dialogue about athletic footwear recreated here will at least set you straight down this chosen avenue.


Nadine: Hey Ben, what is it you call someone into shoes? A sneaker freaker?

Ben: Typically either sneakerhead or sneakerfreak, either one.

Nadine: Oh, but not freaker?

Ben: Yeah, no, just freak. Actually, you know, sneaker freaker is kind of a
derogatory term for it, you wouldn't want to use that.

Nadine: Ah, okay, so just freak.

Somewhere Under A Rainbow

The notion that the boys of VICE aren't embracing each other to the full extent of the law is a misreprentation of the facts. Perhaps they aren't all gay as some would have you believe but there can be no denying that they all enjoy the way it feels. Starting to show through boysss!

The Case of the Violated Garbage

A long time ago Gavin's wife left a huge bag of shoes at the VICE office because they had been rejected by Beacon's Closet. He let Melissa have a go at them because she has the same shoe size as his wife and she was thrilled. She thinks his wife's shoes are "cute"...

“Thank you Gavin for the shoes! Emily and I have the same Yeti-sized feet and her shoes are incredibly cute.”

That is why, a few days ago, Melissa popped into his mind as he eyed several gigantic bags of clothes, shoes and purses left in the hallway after his wife had done a massive clean out. So naturally he contacted Melissa and told her she could pillage them before he took everything to the trash. Again she was thrilled. As she crudely put it when he invited her to come by...

“Gavin, I totally absolutely with out a doubt want a poke.
Please?!?!!?!!!!!”

All he asked was one measely favor in return. He told her to ask, "Hey Emily, do you have any tights? I sometimes feel that I'm too small for my tights." It's an inside joke between Emily and Gavin based on a time she bought tights that were too small and couldn't fit in them and he accidentally said, "Are you too big for your tights?" It's become a
sensitive topic that Gavin can't resist going back to again and again.
Gavin made it very clear to Melissa that failure to comply with his wishes would mean being cut off from the hand-me-down train. He told Melissa she could apologize immediately afterwards and tell Emily that Gavin had made her say it but she ignored everything he said and went through the clothes with nary a peep.

When Gavin met his wife for a movie last night she was happy as a clam. He asked her how it went with Melissa and she had no idea what he was talking about. Gavin was furious. When he came into work today he roared at Melissa for her negligence and all she had to say was, "Bryce agreed that it would have been bad.” Pathetic. Gavin and to a certain extent all of us feel betrayed by Melissa and will not be offering her any other digs in our garbage. To augment this posting Gavin is presently working on a video treatment of this story that will be divided into an 8 part series a la R. Kelly's Trapped in The Closet.

Amphetamine vs. Alcohol Whodunit

Not so complicated huh? I bet you can guess whose fridge has more old hummus containers rammed into every nook and cranny but how about which is the successful comedic writer and which one is the blustering ad salesperson? Or even which one is hot and which one is not? You make the call makes not a twit to me.

Bouncing Baby Balls

Thomas Morton, aka Baby Balls is the most amazing character in VICE’s house of dazzle. Only GI Joe has a more popular selling hetero normative figurine among the powder and straw set. Buy one from Thomas as he has a closet full of them. If that can be construed as pun then it was intended.

Former VICE Copy Editor Done Good

Former punctuation maven and all around free spirit Daniel Morrissey moved from Williamsburg to the Midtown Mahattan world of powder puff copy and beautiful airheads over at Entertainment Weekly recently. Besides being good at spelling and taking shorthand Dan fronts the worlds greatest country and western outfit the Sharkey Favorite Band. In his off time he enjoys birds, bouldering, and nudism.

Our Talent Isn't Being Wasted. . .Our Talent Is Being Wasted!

Each member of this dipsomaniacal interracial threesome had at one time or another been signed to a personal service contract by A & R uber-guru Patrick Riley. But when inked as the Vice Triplicates it resulted in the biggest music industry snafu this side of the Brian Jonestown Massacre signing at TVT. Despite being much sought after on the NYC party circuit as profound instigators and men of great verve, in truth, the three of them together were no better than a ho-hum drunken pair. And so it goes

Deep Draughts

Money may make the world go around,
but alcohol can sure make the room spin!

Booze Crews?

Suroosh Alvi famed braintrust and guiding light of the VICE flagship has for many years refrained from partaking of alcoholic beverages so when this photo arrived in our cubicle we confronted him violently not because he had resumed drinking but because we were pissed he had refused to share his lusty tale. Gentlemen. WTF?

Alvi explained the situation to our intrepid rumor monger thusly, “There are only two things that could make me touch a beer and these two are them! I’m just crazy about the stuff.”

Foxy Chick Woos VICE Staffer Timothy

Timothy was thrilled to be hooked up with this slinky minx. At one point he was heard to exclaim that “his Johnson was harder than Chinese arithmetic.” But sadly he later asked her “What do you call a blonde standing on her head?

Answer: A brunette with bad breath!” Oops!

It must be noted that Timothy used to be a brilliant writer for Vice but he pushed his key bump use all the way to the feeding tube bank and since he has never been quite the same around leaf blowers or blonde babes.

Could we please put the euphoria back in coke? For Timothy’s sake at least!

Pickle Pluggin Poo?

This afternoon an email made the rounds of the Vice Office

>Could whoever clogged the toilet in the "quiet room" please resolve the
>fucking issue they created. Contrary to popular belief I am not the office's
>personal shit jockey.

>For future reference, if you have even the faintest impression that you
>might have dropped a plug, please take the necessary 5 seconds to verify.

The Crack Vice Shit Jockey Investigative Team of MB & TM quickly determined that the culprit had been subsisting for weeks on a thoroughly stomach churning diet of pickles and milk. With this clue alone the guilty party was immediately identified.

Contact Encyclopedia Brown for the Answer to this murky mystery!

Erik LaWow Gone Wild

They say pictures are worth a thousand words but one well placed grope can turn your life around.

Flipped Burghers

Ever wonder how to drive a vegatarian crazy? Try tossing a hamburger into their grill like our VICE Badassador did and behold the mayhem that results. God Bless Mayhem!

John G. Martin Mediation: A Critical Look at Lunacy

Let John G. Martin Mediation demonstrate what can be accomplished with a few well placed digs and a take no bullshit approach to examining your problems and exacerbating even your smallest troubles. He can be found ranting and raving his helpful insight about your screwed up decision making abilities most days on Bedford Ave.

"Here's to open minds and open hearts. Let your reading and ruminating integrate greater recognition of newer, more creative, more life-serving possibilities. The more mediation gets institutionalized and formalized, the more difficult it is to think beyond present formulations. The sooner we start getting serious about nurturing our own personal growing edge, the better."

Call John. He is at VICE

Tale of a Buddhist Monk with Questionable Intentions

Young shirtless ad sales whiz kid Thobey spent a questionable afternoon with a very friendly monk. It is a story that will truly shock and awe. Keywords: shirtless in public, daily exercise regimen, reading by a body of water, phoney buddhist temple and relaxing deep tissue massage. Ask him when you have time and i mean a lot of time if you know what i mean.

Blushing Babe

What has sexy Melissa all in a dither these days? Could it be James Stockbauer?


















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The Old Intern

What is up with that guy at the intern table? Is this our demographic? Get a life pops!

VICE Intern Stoned In Israel?

Not what you'd think. Ruben the Swede is planning to visit Israel later this month and hopes to incite some Orthodox Jews into stoning him. Rueben said that while not quite as fun as dodging rubber bullets in Gaza high as a kite he figures how likely are a bunch old men in heavy coats to able to smack an able bodied Swede with rocks? Who cares! For the record Rueben is not a Jew for Jesus he is a regular old fashioned Jew which is pretty cool what with all the bandwagon jumping going on these days.