Not really a band update, but I figured I would share this with you.
Without fail, I severely burn myself every 3 to 4 years. In highschool, it was an iron to the upper arm. In college, it was a flaming marshmallow to the nose. And most recently it was an extremely hot cup of tea on my testicles.
Granted, the mark this burn left on me was far more emotional than physical. I could say that, other than a few red spots, small blisters and missing hair, I am 100% ok.
I had just sat down on the couch to watch some football. The Colts were losing to the eagles, and I was enjoying a little facebook surfing. My girlfriend had picked up a new variety of tea, something that boasted SUPER antioxidant power so I thought I would try it. I always imagine antioxidants as cancer police in my blood, roaming around chomping free radicals. The extent of my scientific knowledge on the subject ends there.
The tea pot whistled. I got my favorite mug. I poured some water. Plopped in the tea bag and set it on the somewhat stable couch arm… It happened exactly how you are now picturing it. I sat down, brushed the glass with my elbow, and in slow motion watched it slip down the arm of the couch dumping the complete contents on my lightly clothed pasty white inner thigh.
The involuntary reaction was spectacular. My laptop went flying. I let out a very high pitched yelp, and then pulled my pants down. My brain at this point ceased to grasp the situation. My pants lay in a steaming pile beneath me, but instead of, well… covering myself up, I simply stood there assessing the damage.
Like a curious and shocked rodent with an injured limb, I inspected for any serious problems and checked functionality. Not at all realizing that I was, in fact, completely naked from the waste down staring at my own now turtling genitals in front of three very large unfiltered windows two stories above what could only be described as a busy city street.
My second embarrassment followed when, in a panic, I pulled my pants back up to find that they were nearly as hot as they were 30 seconds before (damn you water and your high specific heat!). So I pulled them back down, and finally wandered into my room wearing only my gym shoes, no pants, and a waist long white undershirt.
Had you been walking below my apartment at ~ 7:23pm November 7th 2010 you would have seen the following sequence of events.
1. A man jumps up from his couch throwing his laptop 3 feet into the air
2. Said man turns towards 3 large windows and pulls down his pants
3. Man continues to stand there staring and moving his genitals around in such a away that he could be described as looking “inquisitive”
4. Man pulls pants back up
5. Man throws pants back down.
6. Man turns around and walks slowly into his room
7. Man returns a few seconds later with a bag of frozen broccoli
8. Man puts broccoli on his crotch.
Broccoli, is there anything you cant do?
Thank you to East West Studio Lagoon Loves you
Hey Kiddies… Shall we?
OLD SHOW / NEW SHOW!
Hi friends. First of all, thank you to everyone who came out to the great Butterknife-Lagoon Extravaganza 2010. We had a blast, and we hope to be rocking with Butterknife again soon!!
Butterknife’s drummer made my ears bleed.
I never thought I would ever hear anyone play the drums louder than @lagoonmarisa… Well… I think she has met her match.
- 5 hearing
Because Kieran has an amazing beard
It is amazing.
That one random thing that happened…
After the show, while Marisa and Pat were fighting with the venue trying to get paid (literally almost fighting), I decided to duck out the back and go find our gigantic red love machine. So… I go walking and I finally spot the whale of a van in the corner of a ‘pay to park’ lot. It’s dark, probably about 1am, I’m not scared or anything but I readied my ninja senses and walked briskly. I opened the door. Hopped in. Put the keys in the ignition, and simultaneously turned on the lights…
Suddenly, I notice a young man urinating on the fence directly in front of the van (ass to bumper). The burst of light and loud engine noise startled him horribly, and I could see the glisten of errant spray even through the windsheild. He quickly twisted his head left to right, trying to see whether or not he was getting attacked. In a few moments he decided to make a break for it and run partly hunched over to the edge of the fence…. Meanwhile, I just laughed hysterically.
Here are some photos…. of the show… you sicko:
Ok, looking forward:
We have some stuff in the pipe. And I’m NOT talking about the fact you, or anyone else, has to poop; Different pipe. This is the kinda pipe that music flows out of. One could argue that tooting is music, but… ok you get the point.
Lets start with the poster by @davidtornado
This is going to be a FREE social media event sponsored by www.futurem.org and before we play our set I’ll be giving a little talk. I am totally used to this kind of stuff. I typically get up and share my feelings at meetings all the time. You know… the kind of meetings for degenerate sex addicts like myself. But, to be serious (for once), this should be an awesome event. We are playing downstairs, all ages, free show. It’s going to be all about music, social media, and the progression of it all.
“Hi my name is Larry and I have a tiny…”
(remember you can download any of David’s posters in wallpaper, iphone wallpaper, and .pdf form on the homepage: www.lagoononline.com)
5 Worst State Slogans
So, a little backstory: The next day after the show David thought it would be a good idea to head on down to Newport to catch the final Polo match of the season. I decided to tag along, and it turned out to be a glorious afternoon (pictures after this section). So, it might seem totally unrelated to the headline, but upon crossing state lines into “The Ocean state” I became curious… curious about states… So, on a whim I pulled up some information on my sweetass new smarthphone and… lets just say I was amazed.
Slogan: “This is still the right place.”
Religious jokes aside, Utah is still the right place for what? The right place to live? The right place to visit? The right place to tickle? Something is not just intrinsically right. Ugh. It’s almost as bad as what they have on their license plates: “Life Elevated.” Is that a pun or did my brain just die.
#4 Rhode Island
Slogan: “We’re not really an Island.”
It’s sad that I’m not kidding.
#3 New York
Slogan: “I love New York”
That’s great, what about the rest of us. Doesn’t this seem a little pretentious? I suggest you change it to “You know, you might love New York too if we weren’t so loud.”
Slogan: “Oklahom is OK”
Oh I get. It’s funny because it’s true! Hahaha. You know, that’s so funny.
Slogan: “It’s Wide Open.”
It sure is. It sure is.
Slogan: “It’s like a Whole Other Country”
My Version: “It Should be a Whole Other Country.”
Slogan: “You’ve got a friend in Pennsylvania”
I fucking doubt it.
And now some polo match photos:
NO OFFENSE LARRY
A final, but potent quote:
Me: I guess money cant buy you love?
Tristan: maybe he didn’t have enough
(Marisa getting ready to rock)
On the hierarchy of “losing things” your vehicle tends to be a priority, so you could imagine our amazement when we walked out to corner to find that our extremely large bright red van missing.
“Hum… I know for a fact I parked the van here,” said Pat.
And then it started raining.
Marisa had already claimed my umbrella for her hair which was frizzing itself into a knot. The rest of us reached for our phones and madly started googling. I think my first entry was “My can was Towde” (Give me a break, it’s a new phone and I am just learning). Within minutes, we determined the Red Beast was being held at a nearby impound lot.
With less than an hour until we had to load in for the show, we were all happy that retrieving our van was relatively easy. Handing over money for something we never wanted done in the first place proved to be more difficult. I remember the stale impound office room, at least one sweaty overweight man judging us, while the other happily rang Pat’s credit card. $$
On our way to get our equipment, I remember staring out the window hoping that this was the last strange thing to happen that night.
A few seconds later we lightly struck a mail truck (Incriminating picture has been purposefully left off).
When we arrived at the Middle East I felt much more at ease. We spent some time enjoying drinks and food in the lobby with some friends. In retrospect, beans, grease, and heavy spices were probably the last thing I should have eaten. I did not know that the stage was going to sweat up like a sauna… I got very few hugs after the show. David got a lot of hugs…
The concert went very well. I should have brought up a second bottle of water (or beer?). If one were to judge our performance based on how much bodily fluid we were covered in, I would say we did swimmingly. Things got even more interesting the second we got off the stage. I had an argument with the booking lady, Pat had an argument with a cab driver, everyone else drank and slipped away.
No Bodily Harm
Let us for a second return to our previous graph.
It’s not something we did on purpose, but in the mess of loading out our equipment, recounting the night’s activities, and drinking we lost someone. I mean, full on lost someone. Let me clarify, it’s not that we just “left” someone at the club or at the practice space. We simply lost a human being. They got out of the van when no one was around and just wandered off. It is the exact same feeling you have when you lose a dog, a drunk dog, a large drunk dog, a large really drunk dog that’s actually a person.
We managed to scrounge up a couple large Mag-lights and began scouring the neighborhood. I think David’s neighbors thought:
A. We murdered someone and was burying them in a hole dug from inebriated screams.
B. We had lost our dog, but we were going about retrieving him in a way that would simply scare him more.
C. We were so drunk that we thought flashlights talked to Jesus.
Now, the most interesting fact is that this person (who shall remain namless) some how slipped passed all our searching, responded to ZERO name calls, ducked under the cover of the night and crawled BACK into the rear of the van. Pat, who was driving, suddenly realized some other human had just flopped down on the cold metal floor. He was now asleep. We had found him.
Where he was, what he did, and why he did it shall remain a mystery.
As we pulled away, David texted me almost immediately after. Apparently a bat had gotten into his house. If this had anything to do with the fact we covered the True Blood theme song at the show I don’t know. I would like to think it did.
****Imagine X-Files Theme****
And now for a picture trip through the rest of our weekend.
COME SAY HI ON THINGS
Well, it’s about that time to start the lagoon machine up again. Everyone ready? Set… GO!
Lets get down to business and bang out the nuts and bolts. No idea what that means really, but it sounded good at the time.
Just to clear some stuff up, this show is AT the MIDDLE EAST a club in Cambridge. Not, IN THE MIDDLE EAST, the area where things blow up and people get all yelly and shit.
Its going to be two weeks from tomorrow, or 1 week from next Thursday, or rather one day before 2 Fridays from now. Actually, lets just break it down like this.
When: Thursday August 5th The year of our lord 2010
Where: Middle East in Cambridge
Why: Our souls crave the rock
You can find all the information you can shake a stick at over on our facebook: www.facebook.com/lagoonband
If that wasn’t enough to wet your appetite, Jessica Frease conjured us another poster. Did I mention I love this design?
So what’s been new?
Well actually this has been a rough couple months. Moving, as it turns out, costs a lot. There are hidden things like shower rings, trash cans, and parking spaces that you really cant figure into your expenses.
Ahaha, expenses. I’m in a fucking band you think I know what expenses are? No seriously, I’m in a band, and we are horribly inefficient with money.
For a second don’t you wonder why uber rich musicians end up poor and so screwed up 10 years down the line? It’s because we waste our money on 400 dollar softball bats, Kayak racks, tattoos of ladies in 50’s style swimsuits, alcohol, and life size cut outs of trees blowing in wind. The only difference is we didn’t have any money to start with, so instead of 10 years from now we suffer right now. =(
And suffer we have. Example: Pat has been living off of a 70 dollars Dunkin Donuts gift card for the last 2 weeks.
But, like all things, the bad moments pass, the storm clears, and you find your happy normal. Or, happy abnormal.
That brings us to now. Right now….
Show coming up, Album cooking in LA, hope returns, and Lagoon has survived another trying time.
Well hi. I feel a little awkward it’s been so long. You know that feeling when you haven’t gotten your hair cut in 3 months, and you sit down in the chair and you’re about to profess “I’m sorry I let it get this bad.” But then you realize you also didn’t shower, and you went to some foam party the night before, where the foam was flavored like bacon, and some guy rubbed cigars on your face? That’s about how I feel.
So… WHY Did I wait this long?!??!?!
Reason #1: I did not want to jinx anything.
Reason #2: I was tired, oh so tired.
We finished recording the album.
I am allowed to say that now without ruining anything.
Let me describe you the moment of culmination:
Pat, after literally 100 takes of the guitar solo for “Never Leaving New England,” let out a recorded guttural yell that would make any man insta-fist pump. I think it was fate, or providence, that the album would finish on the very weekend we were leaving our home. I think that house, a stoic reminder of what nature does to an unkempt human dwelling, gave up the last little bit of its life for us.
“Goodbye Lagoon, take with you my message of apple orchards and 200 years of abuse.”
But, honestly, there is something to be said here. I really think that negative emotions, either depression, or sadness really is the soil in which good music grows. That house, our situation, took a little something from all of us. And we gave it back to our music.
I am curious, when all this is said and done and after the album is mixed and produced, if there is still that shred of sadness. I guarantee it will be there.
Now, what is funny (or mean) is that when we first moved to Boston we realized that David was far happier than he had been in a long time. I mean it was weird, really weird. He was drinking a lot of martinis, just lovin’ life and the fact he was in a new place.
The band had considered taking action, since, as we have discussed, David is a far more prolific songwriter when he is sad:
How to Depress David
Any of you who know David understand that he is a very interesting fellow. He likes rich cheese, colorful things, and nice clothes. And as band, if we were going to make him sad we wouldn’t want to hurt him really, just sadden him severely.
This is actually an intricate ploy. What we would have to do would be to sneak into David’s house and use a hole punch to put maybe 1 or 2 holes into every article of clothing David owns (including shoes, so maybe a leather punch).
Oddly, he probably wouldn’t notice until he was at work, or a fancy party, or whatever else David does… And… inevitably, if asked, we could just say that moths did it, very precise circular eating moths that also like leather.
#2 Dog Vomit
(I will purposely not include a picture here)
Now, David has an issue. If he sees vomit, especially dog vomit, he will also vomit. It’s a cycle of continuous vomitus that could kill, so we have to be careful here less we permanently injure our friend in some sort of perpetual gag-heave. For a moment, you have to suspend disbelief and just grant us (the evil part of lagoon) the ability to procure a large amount of Dog Vomit. I have a feeling that, as David is reading this, he is probably already gagging.
The prank would start by placing a large amount of dog vomit under David’s pillow before he fell asleep. Then after, the initial shock and inevitable David reactionary vomit, he would run to the bathroom, where we would have filled his medicine cabinet and toilet bowl also with vomit. After which, finally, as David calmed down and went to the fridge for some water, he would find that we have filled all available containers, jars, and jugs with vomit. Cold Refrigerated water puffed dog food vomit.
We would probably have to end there, but repeat this process at least once a week to keep David sad and malnourished.
This would be easy to blame on someone else, because humans don’t dog vomit. Dogs do. And David has two dogs, one of which is a prankster.
The only problem with this plan is David’s wife, as she is just an innocent bystander in a malicious vomitus-vomitus cycle.
#3 Kayak Rack
If there is anything in this world that David likes more than Kayaks its Kayak racks. So, we would just smash his kayak rack. OH WHAT WOULD HE DO DURING THOSE PERFECT SUMMER KAYAK DAYS!?
(This is probably depressing David already for a different reason)
David has an interesting Tattoo in the shape of big honey bees encircling his arm. One could deduce from that fact that he likes the furry little creatures. That is false. He is deathly afraid of them. I mean deathly. David has the ability to sing in many pitches, but, when he sees a Bee (not even one that is near him), he will chant in almost an inaudibly high pitched way “BEE BEE BEE BEE BEE,” while flailing uncontrollably (he has knocked over little old ladies).
I have told David many times in the past that I think we should lock him in a dark room with many angry Bees just so he could finally get over his phobia. I mean, he is not allergic, and if the room is large enough he probably wouldn’t even get stung THAT much.
Apparently that would kill David, as he has told me before.
So, what would we do?
First we would drug David and drag him into the basement and chain him to a chair. Then would dress Pat in a very large furry bee costume and have him lumber out of the darkness and just walk around him singing “Bee Bee Bee Bee” in a really low voice. The key to this would be to not actually DO anything to David, and then return him to his bed. He would then think it was a dream. We would repeat this process at least 3 times a week until the insomnia and mental state broke him down. Then, once we have solidified the psychological snap, we could just leave little patches of Bee fur around and trigger a whole new round of crazy.
How would we deny this? We don’t. I would agree with him, tell him that I have the same weird bee torture dream everynight and that it is SO WEIRD.
It is my hope that David actually gets sad on his own. I know that’s kind of messed up in itself to wish for someone’s sadness, but, the product of it is so awesome. I mean SO AWESOME. You’ll see… Soon atually. ahahahaha
Well friends, I hope now that we have moved I can get back in to the routine of talking to you more often.
Oh… also, if you have any good ideas for the album name please send them to us, or tweet them, or Tattoo them on your buttocks.
I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts, deedily dee
Now that I have you singing, perhaps we could get started…. Unless you want to keep singing like a retard.
So whats new!?
Since you can’t talk back to me I’ll just tell you what’s new with me. I love this form of communication. I get to brag and tell you stuff and you just listen. Ahahahaha. Wow. That was mean. I’m sorry… But no, I got some serious stuff to talk about.
It feels like right now is a great time to reflect on life. I know I have been. David and his wife moved out of the band house. Me, Pat, and Marisa are moving down town. This little period of transition has allowed us all to take a break from our craft. We are all still very motivated, but I think we needed this; a small respite to recharge our batteries.
Sometimes I wish that my life were different, that perhaps I found pleasure in something else besides music. There is inherent frustration with loving something, an activity, a craft that is so purely based on luck. It is draining. Sometimes I feel like I am taking my energy and just tossing it into this endless abyss (an analogy from Deuce Bigalo comes to mind about a toothpick in a volcano… I’ll leave it at that).
Those feelings are normally fleeting. I then recall the gratification of it all personally, and to be honest, I should not base my merits (especially in music) upon the opinion of others or its popularity. I know in my heart everything will work out as it should. Just got to push a little everyday. Also, I am reminded of you guys, the people reading this, that have made this journey thus far so worth it. And thank you for all your help, and support. I say that a lot, but it means so much to us. You have been with us through everything, even before I was in the band… So Holy Shit… maybe I should end the pity party before I make a mistake.
No, I said Mistake.
So, things with the band are actually going quite well. Marisa right now is promoting in LA with our good friend TheHawk: pushing the Lagoon Gospel.
The album is coming along. The move really took a toll on this timetable but we are working through it as fast as we can. Really only about 3 parts left until the entire album is done recording, then off to LA to get loved on.
So life is good. Very Good.
This scared the shit out of me.
So, anyone who follows the stock market knows that yesterday (Thursday 05-06-10) the stock market randomly fell 1000 points in the middle of the day. That is really scary. So… To be honest, when I saw that plunge I figured something was wrong. They have had technical glitches with the market before (it is a system, systems have glitches). What is really frightening is that they believe one person put a “B” for billions instead of an “M” for millions…. Ok you are telling me that ONE missed keystroke tore down the US stock exchange? Holy shit. Can you imagine what it was like to be that guy?
*wavy imagine lines*
La la la, I work for a large firm, la la la.
I’m going to be a trade.
I think I want to sell 10 million shares.
I am so happy to be a trader.
La la la.
Wait… Something is wrong.
HOLY SHIT I PUT BILLION INSTEAD OF MILLION
OMG WHAT AM I GOING TO DO
OMG THAT TRIGGERED LIKE 10000 STOP LOSSES ON VARIOUS COMPUTERS
OMG THE STOCK MARKET IS CRASHING
OMG… I’m going to lose my job…. OMG…. PEOPLE ARE GOING TO STARVE… OMG… Think of the puppies… THINK OF THE PUPPIES I’M KILLING. OMG… OMG…
* pane of glass crashes*
*body tumbles 50 stories*
Now in reading that you might wonder a few things…. Probably how stocks effect puppies. I know I wondered the same thing, and there is really no correlation but whenever something goes bad I imagine something is smashing puppies. Usually it’s a robot smashing puppies.
Ok, back to real life. So the one human keystroke error is bad, but the real problem is the fact that computers handle a majority of our stock trades. These computers are programmed in very black and white manners. IE: if a stock goes below a certain number, then sell X amount of shares. So, that puppy killing retard trader might have put in a “B” instead of an “M” but the real problem is that 50,000 computers executed automatic trades in a split second…. CRASH GOES THE MARKET. *shivers*
I’ve actually been kinda sad since we ran out of models before weeks. Sad days. Very sad days. Ok not that sad. COME PLAY WITH US.
So, you may have noticed that our blog was hacked last weekend. If you did not notice you are just NOT READING THIS ENOUGH OMG. Break
After some brief notes, I am going to dedicate this entire blog to our would-be hacker. Exploring every facet of his being and probable motivation for tainting this exquisite place.
Ok… This is easy… Tomorrow… yes TOMORROW, we have a show at the Cantab Lounge in Cambridge with our good friends The Narrow Channels.
Poster design by David Ziggleman-Vollster Poleman Dingo:
Funny story, I walked into the Cantab to hang up these posters last week. I went downstairs to find “Mickey” the guy that runs the club. I walk into a pitch-black basement/bar and searched the wall for a light switch. Suddenly, I heard a voice “Hey Charlie, is that you.”
Ok, so I was a little scared. I told the guy I was just the bass player from Lagoon looking to hang posters. Turns out, Mickey was taking a nap on the stage. When he flipped the lights on I saw that he was playing jazz music from an old radio, and had some incense lit. I hung posters and got the F out of there. All this being said, I think it’s going to be a great show.
DEAR HACKER WTF
So, I guess I should be proud because hackers apparently only target blogs that are popular. This must mean you like me. You really really like me. In all honesty though, what the fuck? The fact that some douche makes a living by embedding fake Paypal code into websites makes me violently ill (the type of ill where it comes out of both ends, and you gotta use the tub and the toilet). The reason why this irks me so much is that we actually employ the REAL paypalfor all our donations; the primary way we get money for a craft. Thank you for shitting on our hard work and dedication to a non-traditional lifestyle. Sorry for any inconvenience this has caused you, our fans, the only reaons I live and breathe =(
So, instead of having a pity party, I have put it upon myself to find who this person is. Thusly, I have compiled a list of probably suspects:
#1. The Hamburgler
Two years ago, on the brink of death after a quadruple bypass, The Hamburlger re-dedicated his life to crime… Cybercrime. Pent up in his house, 300 pounds overweight, his only means of communication was a small Lenovo Laptop. He trolled the Internet for targets: people with views contrary to his own.
Lagoon, innocently, has dedicated itself to the betterment of animal-kind in a number of ways (white heart video). The Hamburgler, angry that most of the band (sans Patmeatfaceeater) really does not enjoy red meat.
Late one evening after eating some Ding Dongs, Licorice, and any other black and white themed food, the Hamburgler snuck onto our web-page by guessing Pat’spassword of “SillyNanny” and implanted the code. Rabble! Rabble!
(You might be wondering.. well.. what does a Nargel look like? Just look in the mirror. Oh I’m kidding, actually they are invisible. So suck it. )
Sick of stealing socks and knickknacks from children, the Nargels set their target on something bigger: Google. Poised as Chinese hackers they attacked Google’s central password server, only to get a hold of ONE password, which belonged to an unlucky Lagoon band member.
Seething with anger at their failure, the Chinese, I mean Nargles, became wrought with fury. They had to take it out on someone, that someone happened to be us.
Hiding in mistletoe and waiting for the right moment, the Nargels embedded the foreign code on our server. Needing money for boats and swimsuits, they hoped dearly we wouldn’t find it.
Grumpy, small, and wonderful tinkerers, these creatures put it upon themselves to tear down the very infrastructure that was portraying them as retarded old weirdos hawking cheap Travel fair.
I have always made my love for the “David the Gnome” cartoon series a prevalent theme in everything I do. Turns out Gnomes hate David… Not David our lead singer, but David the Gnome. Gnomes might also hate David our lead singer too. Shit, I just don’t know anymore.
Late one night, Marisa was looking for a cheap hotel near a turtle farm in Winchester, New York. Unknowingly, when she clicked on that cute red capped little bastard she was PHISHED. All her passwords STOLEN. Our blog… COMPROMISED.
4. Some Douche
Angry at life, society, the pressures of actually getting a real job, Some Douche learned how to hack wordpress blogs. Using Paypal as the bate, he would lure in Internet patrons to give up their passwords/logins.
Seeing Lagoon as a both the paradigm of popular music and the epitome of physical excellence made this douche very angry.
Targeting a blog that is intended for fun, and good nature, he sought to destroy one this band’s great portals to its listeners.
This has all left me feeling both vulnerable and angry (kind of like last weekend, yuck yuck). I needed something to cheer me up. Aside from smashing my face into my keyboard repeatedly, I bring to you a new blog feature:
Lagoon Cultural Models: Jersey Folk
POUAXCVPIOUKL:JSEFPOIUZXC:J APOIU XVPIOUAE:LKAJ VEPIOU:
Hi friends. I am sorry this is late. It’s a good kind of late… Not the “oh crap time to buy a preggo test” kinda late. If that last comment did not give it away, this blog is intended for adult audiences, or rebels.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY PATTY
Our wonderful, skillful, and recently tan guitarist @macpattys turned 30 today. Amazing. I am really happy that 30 is the new 20, which makes 20 the new 10 and explains why I act like a 16 year old and my pubic hair has still not filled in. PATCHY.
This weekend the goons went out for a night of drinking (Except for @lagoonmarisa who was living it up in LA with @thehawkshow and rubbing elbows with big wigs and making fart jokes inappropriately) That’s why this update is late. That’s why my head still hurts. That’s why I shaved my mustache? GOULET!
Go Speed Racer, go!
Hi. So… You might wonder why the next single hasn’t already come out. Well… This is the exciting… We are literally a few weeks away from having the ENTIRE album recorded. We made up a lot of ground these last few months not playing shows, so the next release of Lagoon music “should” be the full album. Which I know you are all excited for. Which I know you really really really really want. Which I know you can barely contain yourself thinking about. Which I know, personally, makes me happy.
To tide you over, since it’s going to make a while to mix/master the new material, I would like to reiterate that our first two albums are free on our website. GO LOVE ON IT.
Also, we had a great show last weekend and it was great seeing everyone! Also, thanks a bunch to The Narrow Channels for having us out. If you haven’t already, be sure to go check out their myspace, love on their music too. I am really excited to hear their new stuff.
How Many Times Does it Take??!!
Here is a bit of truth: I don’t care how much you LOVE a wild animal, one day it will kill you. Why do people think that if they care about an animal enough it will forget that it was designed (genetically) to eviscerate and eat other things?
Yes, I am directly referring to what happened recently when an orca whale killed a trainer at Seaworld. I would like to quote an interview from the Associated Press. This is what Seaword released as the reason the whale bit Dawn Brancheau’s neck.
“Brancheau reportedly had that long ponytail that the whale grabbed onto because she was growing out her hair to donate it to “Locks of Love” for cancer patients.”
Yes, and by the same logic this whale must HATE cancer patients. Fucking cancer loving head-eating whale. It could not possibly be the fact Seaworld has incarcerated an incredibly intelligent vicious SIX TON eating machine in a pool, so your snot nosed ice cream eating little cretin can giggle at it.
Don’t get me wrong, my first stuffed animal (which I still have) is named “Whaley.” I love it. But, NO WILD ANIMAL WAS MEANT FOR HUMAN ENTERTAINMENT
And, to add insult to injury, (as I kept reading through this article APPAULED) I would like to quote Gary Wilson, from Moorpark “wild animal and dipshit training” College in California
“If it was a perfect world we wouldn’t need to have any animals in captivity, but the reality is in order to learn about these animals and to actually ensure their survival in the wild, we need to have them in captivity so we can study them and people can learn to appreciate them,” Wilson said. “If SeaWorld didn’t have dolphins and whales in captivity, there would be many fewer people in the world that even cared about them at all.”
It’s called a Zoo motherfucker. Captivity… Fine… Playing games with balls, jumping through hoops, taking commands, giving cute little humans rides on their backy backs, how does that, in anyway, educate people? It just sponsors another generation of people who think that wild animals just love to play with brightly colored objects while being gently caressed by human faces.
It is not your job, Gary, to tend to the dreams of failed oceanography majors by running a school whose ultimate job is to simply delay its own students inevitable mauling. Wild animals do not need training, they need to be left alone. Get it?
Sadly, I am sitting here tending to my so called “domesticated” cat inflicted wounds and I can’t help wonder; Is everyone just insane? This world is perfect already, Gary. It is these abortions of he natural order that are screwing this place up.
And now, this weeks captive human model:
LAGOON FEATURED MODEL: Phoenix Skye
Not only did I grow up near Phoenix, but @macpatty has the Phoenix symbol tattooed on his arm, the band Phoenix is cool, and like a Phoenix I have risen from the ashes to write you blogs. Incredible. Just like these pictures.
You can find more pictures on our facebook
We are going to keep a collection of ALL the models there for your enjoyment; for everyone’s enjoyment.
We will be featuring one model per week until we run out of models… or weeks.
Thanks again to Vanessa Athens @VanessaAthens for putting this together, and to Hansel Tsai for your photography skills.
Check our store for frequently updated merchandise, and if you want the SEAFOAM shirt (a Jessica Frease design) you can get them from Café Press here: Cafe Press
I am sorry if all the cussing, cursing, swearing, swill-talking, sailor-speaking has insulted you in anyway. I bet you like the abuse. In fact, I bet you want more of it. So here it is. WHIPLASH BABY.