We won’t tell your girlfriend
DOLCE & GABBANA
Now available at Ralph’s
GS NOV 08 “I just wiped my dick all over your face”
departments
-MICHAEL PHELPS, GRUNION MAN OF THE YEAR
contents
9 BRENT “THE BRENT” KENT
...attempts to solve your satirial inadequacies by grabbing his bulge by the balls. Get in touch with your inner homosexual with The Brent’s fashion advice. Go ahead, touch it.
10 THE SATIRIALIST
Chance Rosencrantz finds real men with balls on the streets of Long Beach.
12 PUTIN ON THE RITZ
Vladimir Putin charges headfirst into the heart of the United States with our very own Julio Harkonnen. They soar through the landscape of the American West in search of the “Real America.”
17 SEXY OLD TOM
A Tom Brady Interview: if you can imagine us actually interviewing Tom Brady. We’re going to fuck him.
18 GREATEST MOMENTS IN FASHION
Jeff Bridges, Actor, lists the top five most influential trends in American fashion history. Plus: guaranteed sexy/adorable pictures for your eyeballs.
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LETTER FROM THE EDITOR
7
THE REACTION
9
STYLE
10
GRUNION MANUAL
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FEATURE
19 OBAMA STEALS
SARKOZY’S PANACHE
Sarkozy is going to have to do a hell of a lot better than Carla...TACO RUN! Time for a quesadilla with green sauce. It’ll be so good, but you’ll want to eat it with a fork.
20 THIS HOUSE IS ON FIRE
A story of how one man dared to shirk tradition and build a house out of nothing but flames. As you can imagine, it didn’t go too well.
22 Q&A: KANYE WEST
Kanye West plays with his own balls during in an exclusive GS interview, hopes to get hard.
cover PHOTOGRAPHED EXCLUSIVELY FOR GS BY JIMMY FODOSE ON THE COVER > Vladmir Putin is wearing a Zaytsev hunting cap, a rugby scarf, and an all-American plaid button-up. WHERE TO BUY IT > GUM industrial department stores, coming soon to the States.
I S S U E 12 > > F O R F E AT U R E S > P U T I N I S A G A N G S T E R I N M O R E W A Y S T H A N O N E > P A G E 12
NOVEMBER
2008
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letter from the editor
Grunion Fun Times!
HELLO READERS,
you may be wondering to yourselves why the stands of the Union Weekly aren’t filled with Union Weeklies, but are rather filled with multitudes of GS (Grunion Sometimes). You see, every once in a while the Grunion staff builds up enough strength and willpower to stop playing Goldeneye and crawl out of our basement to take over the newspaper that we’re prominently featured on. We at the Grunion are tired of being stuck on the back, upside-down of the Union, so we took it upon ourselves to distract the Union staff (with a trail of cheese leading onto the 405) long enough to put out this magazine. The Grunion staff has prided itself for many years on its manly nature. We 6
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exude manliness and excrete excessive amounts of testosterone. Even our talented female staff members have noticed a certain abundance of upper lip stubble once entering the Grunion arena. Breast reduction is a common reaction to the Grunion as well (that includes you, loyal Grunionettes). Manliness is just something we have a proclivity towards. Why, mere moments before writing this, I was tap dancing to a fine Bone ThugsN-Harmony ditty, while my wan faced, suspiciously euphoric friend Sexual Randy played the piano and harmonized. When we decided to do a Grunion magazine (way back when), we called a hearing and conferred on which direction we wished
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to take it. Naturally, we kept it male oriented, and knowing our sporadic enthusiasm and laziness, we thusly came up with Grunion Sometimes. The Grunion knows its way around men. We’ve scoured our every wrinkle, crevice, beard, and perineum in order to provide you with the most in-depth coverage of exuberant manliness and over-compensation that your piss-soaked hearts could ever want for. I don’t care if you’re of the fairer sex, we demand you wear only the finest of suits while reading GS—we’ll know if you don’t. Maybe a nice three piece. Or if you don’t have the cash for a suit, throw on a sweater vest, some pin-striped slacks, the smoothest of smooth shoes, and some facial hair. Only then will you appreciate GS for what it is: a tour de force of machismo. What you’ll find inside this fine publication is page upon page of material to help all the men out there be more manly. You’ll find articles on: men’s style, men’s adventures, games with all-male contact, an interview with the man who put me through college (Kanye West), male celebrities revealing their testicles, and news. So peruse! Thumb through your very own copy of GS and laugh, gaze upon our pages whilst you relieve your bowels! SOPHISTICATED BEAR Editor-in-Chief
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
Sophisticated Bear EXECUTIVE MANAGERIAL CREATIVE DIRECTOR
Ho Fish SENIOR CORRESPONDENT EXECUTIVE EDITOR
Skip Encarnacion STYLE EDITOR BOW TIE EDITOR GOSSIP GIRL SPORTS EDITOR INTERVIEW EDITOR FEATURE EDITOR NEWS EDITOR SENIOR CITIZEN MAVERICKS STAFF WRITERS
CONTRIBUTORS
PHOTOGRAPHERS
Brent “The Brent” Kent
Jimmy Spain The Frothy Sea Trevor Daniels Acid Snackhaus Gaelic Forskyne Sexual Randy Agatha “Mrs.” Crumbles John McCain, Tom Cruise, Mel Gibson Julio Harkonnen, Jeff Bridges (Actor), Bossy Boots, Ravi Canker, Chance Rosencrantz, Samuel Gompers, Halpert Dewgong, Cthulhu, Michael Rapaport, Richard “Dick Shit” Shit Chocolate Drop, Tangerine Balls, Drunken Sailor Jimmy Fodose, Ansel Adams, Diane Arbus, Matthew McConaughey
FUCKIN’ ART & SHIT ART SHERIFF MASTER OF FENG SHUI 5-YEAR-OLD PAINTER
Infinity O’Jewel Asian Spice Raven Faceback
COPY & DICTIONARY CHECKING COPY EDITORS
Saen Smeth, Micheal Polgaros, Frkors Shpu
OFFICE FLOOZY & HARLOTS FLOOZY HARLOTS
COCK TEASE
Jenny “Always Fuckin’” Wallace Ashley “Toots” McGee, Ashley “Kitten Tits” Schlicker, Brigitte “Face” Monahan Jessica “Cock Tease” Feldson
Disclaimer: If you didn’t get the joke yet, then let us take this chance to tell you that this is satire. Grunion Sometimes is not affiliated with CSULB, ASI, Democrats, Republicans, the Cryptkeeper, the obese, or anyone ever (including our sponsors).
Sometimes People Write Us and we’re not quite sure what the fuck they’re talking about. This letter is one of those situations. Read on and enjoy? I am a proud mother of two. After I noticed my son taking a liking to your magazine, I thought I would make sure its content was appropriate for him. He is very sensitive, you see: my son was born with a big, huge mouth and eyeballs all popping out of his face. They say things to him at school like, “Hey did a bush baby lose all of its hair and then find a red shirt and put it on? Oh wait, it’s Jacob,” or, “Look at that mouth and those eyeballs—holy shit did I give birth to this thing?!” Anyway I was browsing through your magazine and I was so astonished my eyeballs probably popped out just like my crazy, bush baby son’s. First of all, I’m not sure it’s appropriate to say “buy this [clothing item goes here] or you might as well crush your stupid head with a fucking brick” after every piece of clothing you recommend. Second, I was very impressed that you had an article that boasted coverage on the two presidential hopeful’s campaign trails. When I began to read however, the article made absolutely no mention of anything to do with politics. The writer was simply pitching a movie script. Worst of all, the script was an almost word-for-word rip off of Jaws. The only difference was that the shark was replaced with a “badass motorcycle with flames” and at the end he says, “We’re gonna need a bigger BARACK OBAMA.” I guess the writer wanted to make the article relate to the title somehow? I will not let my son continue to read Grunion Sometimes. I am appalled at how little effort was put into the magazine and how little journalistic integrity it has. If you wish to keep any readers, I hope that you put more effort into any further publications. Sincerely, —MARY WALLACE, MOTHER
Shaving Your Face with a Machete, Bad Advice? Many readers listen to what we have to say on what it means to be a man, and actually pay attention to our advice. This was a shocking revelation to every writer we have on staff. What follows is one of the many ‘happily ever after’ stories we got in response to our “Ten Ways To Be A Real Man” article. I have a bone to pick with you concerning your Sep/08 article “Ten Ways To Be A Real Man.” Shaving with a machete, as awesome as it sounds, has left me with a devastatingly mutilated face. But the ladies love the scars, so I guess we’re cool. Sicky gnar mag—keep up the good work! Sincerely, —CHARLES BELLFRY Artesia, California
Women Hate GS Well, not all women hate us, just most. We’re not sure why, but if you like us, congrats! You understand that everything doesn’t have to be geared towards everyone. These ‘womyn’ don’t.
Bay Harbor, Nebraska
P.S. My other son is much cooler, swear to God.
This mag is totes sexist. I had the unfortch opportunity to read last month’s issue at my
BF’s house. And I noticed something—it’s all geared towards men! Where are all the Womyn’s Rights articles? Plz fix this. Now. K, Thnx, Bye! Sincerely, —WOMYN’S RESOURCE CENTER
I’m Done Reading These Goddamn these people are dumb. You’re on your own from here on out. Your Sexiest Men Not Alive issue was unbelievable! But, really? Benicio Del Torro? Should have been higher than #14. Sincerely, —SAMUEL GOMPERS New Jersey, New Jersey
Hey dude. Um…are you gay? Cuz if you are that’s totally cool. I mean, like, I have a black friend. That counts, right? I have nothing against the gays, but like…I just get that “vibe,” you know? Like, maybe you’re overcompensating with all this masculinity stuff. Plus, you’ve been running that Dolce & Gabbana ad for over a year now. —NATHANIEL SNIRPUS Vancouver, Canada NOVEMBER
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I’ve pretty much reached god-like levels of attractiveness, and all thanks to you. By way of my biblical dedication to your magazine, I have gone from a frouzy, unkempt introvert to a smug, well-dressed asshole. I joined a Frat and met my roofie quota for the week and life is really fucking full of fantastic. And I know you’ll be proud that I hit the college trifecta of awesomeness: I have successfully maneuvered and accrued a case of the Clap, a drinking problem and a solid bout of depression. That’s right, I am so fucking popular I have an STD, a substance abuse issue and I’m moody and sexy. I’ve never been so lucky/loved. Thanks for making my college years, —JONATHAN BIDETS South Hampton, Maine
I just wanted to send a thank you to the powers that be for the slightly pedophilic pictures of the barely legal Hayden Panettiere. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t waiting for this day with baited traps, chains and the softest Indonesian leather straps I could find. I was just wondering if, for an avid and insatiable reader of your publication, you could help a friend out: Would you ask Hayden to give me a call? Better yet, tell her to leave her window open. I’ll come to her. Thanks,
I wanted to say thanks. As a dad of sixteen, and a husband to a wife that won’t let me touch her anymore, I don’t get a lot of action these days. I’ve been a reader for years now and I wanted to express my thanks for this high-brow publication. My wife doesn’t insist I keep the magazines in a big box on the top shelf of the closet. Yeah, once I left some of my “adult” magazines out and I came home to all of my Playboys, covered in the Vaseline. My wife was trying to punish me I guess, but it really just streamlined the process. —MILO VENTIGIMMEHER Anyways, you have a knack for tasteful Hollywood, California exploitation of women and you do it in a way that I can THIS IS A REAL ADVERTISEMENT – PLEASE SUPPORT OUR SPONSORS leave GS on the coffee table and my wife can flag the recipes. Thank you for always leaving me somewhat satisfied, slightly erect and inexcusably chafed. This is as close as I’ll ever come to actual porn, much less sex.
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I really want you to know that your article “Baby Bait: Women Who Will Get into Your Pants to Get into Your Wallet” made a big impact in my life. Being a guy with some serious dough-re-mi, I understand that you can’t trust a woman when she says she’s on the pill. But now, especially after reading the portion on “condom popping,” I feel like the target. These days, when I take a girl to bed, I make sure to use my own shit. —KYLE FRASURE Villa Park, California
So, like, I keep your magazines in my bathroom for when guys come over, but I’ve never really picked up GS to read for myself—I basically don’t read stuff unless it’s about celebrities or horoscopes, ya know? Anyway, the other night my best friend and me went out and I had too many Jack and Cokes, so I slept in the bathroom. The next morning I totally read one of your articles. I don’t remember what it was called, but it made me feel good cuz it’s totally what I thought guys think like. —SAMANTHA TREVORS Huntington Beach, California
This letter is a bit late, but I loved your October 2007 feature, “We told You Guys We Weren’t Fags, Here’s Some Vagina You Can Jerk On.” It was great to have tangible evidence I could use to prove my manhood to family and friends. Now I can look my loved ones in the eye and say, “Hey, look broskies, I’m not some homo that enjoys the trendiest clothes, hair products and styles. I’m some hetero that enjoys the trendiest clothes, hair products and styles. Completely different things, brah.” And oh my fucking god, Jay-Z looked so dapper in that photoshoot you guys did back in May. He’s just so together, y’know? Keep up the good work! —DARREN ZOLSKI Nuevo, Mexico
Everyone at the Grunion makes fun of my pubic dandruff incessently. I can’t take it anymore. Consider this my two week notice. I have some soul-searching to do and a hamn-cheese hot pocket that won’t eat itself.
—AMERICAN DAD
—SEXUAL RANDY
Smalltown, State
Grunion Basement
Brent “The Brent” Kent Solves Your Satirial Inadequacies
style
Nothing feels better than a handful of bulge. Grab away! and your balls are probably sticking together like the caramel butterfingers I’m currently sucking in my mouth—and the smell. Jesus. How do I even begin to solve this. And the ass sweat stains? What happens to all your silk pantaloons? They must be ruined. You’re fucked. Unless you want to spread Right Guard all over your ass and balls for the rest of your life, I don’t know what to tell you. I’m sweating right now thinking of the goddamn smell you are producing. Soon, you’ll be asking about the white flakes all over your Calvin Klein trousers. Like I said, you’re fucked.
Laser Show
Package Delivery >I’ve got these awesome new khaki, cargo shorts—you know, the kind with the pockets on the sides? I scored a boy’s size 12 from Mervyn’s just so I can get the right size bulge. But I was wondering, how tight do you go? I mean, how much bulge is too much bulge? >>Great question. In my opinion, the tighter, the better. There’s nothing more fashionable than a well-coiffed bulge. Show off your sack’s form—let the pair model its soft and lean figure. Fool around with them when you’re getting ready, too. Choose a nice comfortable side, I prefer my right, and mold them into place. Give them a little massage if you have time. I’ve found it helps with ejaculation, you know, by making it actually happen. Careful about the stains though— they’re hard to wash out.
The Real Man’s Tee First time reader, long time writer. I really like how stylish my v-neck makes me look. The girls just swoon for my chest hair. What’s next?! First there was T. Then V. Now what? X? Help! >>You’ve come to the right place. There is a new shirt out that I’d like to call the “Real Man’s Tee” (see photo). Or if you’d rather keep up with the acronyms, the “M” Tee. The shirt accentuates the forearms and is loose to
show off any scrawny body, which I imagine is what you look like. And about the chest hair: are you shampooing that bush? You should be—there are special lathering techniques you should really look up.
Mr. Pitt-full I’m going to go right ahead and say it: I sweat. A lot. Pit sweat, pubic sweat, ass sweat— there’s H2O in all the wrong places, bud, and I need some advice. My sweat glands are drowning, and I don’t even want to start with the stink. Fuck the rest, I need help. >>Alright, first of all: calm down. I bet your ass is sitting in a stinky puddle right now. It is, isn’t it? That’s gross, man. It’s the middle of winter
SELF PORTRAIT BULGE PHOTO BY BRENT “THE BRENT” KENT
I’m pretty hairy. Wondering if you think I should shave? I was thinking about laser—is that gay? ‘Cause I’m definitely not gay. You know, I’ve got a girl and everything—totally straight. >>Interesting. I’ll be the judge of that. I’m a little wary about laser. Personally, I think a little hair makes a man’s day. I mean, it’s like decoration. Maybe you just need the right shampoo. I can’t stress this enough. Cleanse your pubes, and love them, give them haircuts—I’ve heard some big fashion guys in France have started a braiding trend. It’s a new thing, a new awesome thing; The Modern Man’s Shave. And about the girlfriend, lose her. And let me come over. I can assess the hair situation—I’ll take care of you.
Tie Galore How many ties are too many ties? >>Well, I own about 213. So, I’d say anything over that would be too much. As Lincoln said, “If this is coffee, please bring me some tea; but if this is tea, please bring me some coffee.” So there you go.
Tighty Brownies I get these epic tread marks on my tighty whities that don’t wash out. They turn an awful yellow color. What should I do? >>Please tell me they are at least Calvin Klein briefs. Throw out the Kirkland year-supply and start over. It seems like you’re against using toilet paper, which is another problem in itself, but let’s take one step at a time here. Get new underwear— I suggest Dolce or Gucci, Calvin on your off days. And, please, for the love of couture, stop shitting yourself. It’s embarrassing. NOVEMBER
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Grunion’s eye on the street, Chance Rosencrantz, captures this month’s best looks
The Satirialist
Bad Boys
I regularly see guys in Long Beach rockin’ the SWAT look. This gentleman’s outfit models high-class sophistication and the ultimate macho physique. I mean, check out his guns. Now, that’s hot.
> Long Beach Boulevard Gets a Makeover Chance Rosencrantz showcases Long Beach’s newest fashion trends Harry Trebnor isn’t your typical Satirialist material—he is much more than that. Introducing his new line, Beyond Homeless, Trebnor redefines modern comfort. With an eye for tattered tees and arbitrary patterns, the line utilizes functionality and eccentric design. Trebnor’s attention to detail—check out the rolled up slacks—give the clothes a personality of their own. And who better than Harry Trebnor to model high class than himself, book and cigarette in hand, amped and ready for the runway. The collection hits local Target stores Nov. 17th.
Chillin’ Out, Maxin’, Relaxin’ All Cool
Long Beach local kicks back after a long day at work with a forty and some cigarettes. He shows off his satirial intellect with the quintessential Hobo Trench. The buttoned shoulder pads are pure genius!
Local Fashion Designer Harry Trebnor shows off his latest line >>
The Object
Smith and Wesson .357 Magnum
—> While at a fashion show in Compton, I befriended a dapper young fellow with an interesting bulge coming through the front of his pants—and no, it wasn’t his penis! Turns out he was accessorizing with a .357 Magnum, or if you prefer the proper couture term, heat. I asked about the best brands to which he answered, “Smith & Wesson, gayboy. Where you from?!” And being originally from Huntington Beach, I said, “HB!” He proceeded to give me props and told me his heat protects him in any weather. The perfect accessory for any real man on the street.
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M O R E —> Smelly Street Style GRUNION
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THEGRUNIONALIST.com
PHOTOGRAPHS BY CHANCE ROSENCRANTZ
What You Can Learn From > Local Son-of-a-Bitch Hollis Grigsby is the local son-of-a-bitch, the ’ol Tom Fool, causing a ruckus down at the pub’s latest brouhaha with the Castillo brothers. In his spare time he loves to spit, steal attention, and heckle cheerleaders.
Style Idol: Lee Marvin (Before he went soft) Where I get my cut “There’s an Oriental down the road, real nice fella. Cost me about 8 bucks, no tip necessary. I just say not too fruity. Low-maintenance job. Back when I was in the Corps, they went straight off with it—I sure do love a simple haircut.” The ’Stache: “The trick is to dip your comb in Jameson and then let a hooker tug on it. You can’t get that shape unless a hooker is involved. Trust me. “ My Shirt: “My first wife bought me this flannel shirt on our honeymoon, just outside Hemet about 30 years ago. I wear it now to spite her. She’s dead.” My Pants: “Wranglers usually, unless my Levi’s are clean, but usually Wranglers. I piss my jeans about twice a month, so I interchange accordingly. I did buy American exclusively at one point, but to be honest, I don’t give two shits anymore.”
My shoes: “Boots, or New Balance. Not too particular here, just so long as I can run from my responsibilities as a father.” Smokes: “Winstons. Anything else is pure faggotry. Two packs a day, like clockwork, for 48 years. Easily the longest and most rewarding relationship of my life has been with my tobacco. Started smoking the day after my balls dropped.”
What’s that on your wrist? “That’s a cigar burn. I used to burn my friends as a kid, you know with lighters while they took a nap. But then I started burning myself and have been a burner ever since. It’s my form of body art, my contribution to the world of culture.”
Words to live by: “When your shirt is too long, tuck it in. When your shoes are untied, tie them. When a fat girl asks you on a date, go Dutch. Shoot first.”
Belt Buckle: “The bigger the better. Buckles let the ladies know just how large your penis is, so it’s key to have a big one—to ensure them that your penis is, in fact, large.”
1. “I carry three shells: one for my enemy, one for Jesus, and one for me.” 2. Rush: “When I had nothing, I had 2112. When I had no one, I had Neil Peart. Simple as that really. Their music is why I’m here.” 3. “Yeah, I can run pretty fast in these boots.” 4. The Bowie Knife: “For lions and stuff.”
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Local Son-of-a-Bitch Daily Must Haves >>
PHOTO BY JIMMY FODOSE
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On The Road With Vladimir Putin PUTIN THE BEST FOOT FORWARD GS and Russian Special Forces collaborated to send one of its own on a journey deep into the savage heart of Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin’s “Real America,” for better or worse. BY JUL I O H A R K O N N E N PHOT O G R A P H S B Y A S I A N S P I C E
May 21st I’ve rarely ever been black bagged. Also, I’ve rarely ever been thrown into a car trunk by Russian-spewing Special Forces. I must say that I really wouldn’t recommend it, either. After several hours of bumpy roads, I was dragged out of a car and down a flight of concrete stairs. There, in a dingy basement, my eyes tried to adjust to the first light I had seen in hours. Hunched over the carcass of what was once a white Siberian tiger 12
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was the man I was summoned to meet. He started separating the feline’s hide from its flesh as he whistled what sounded like “L’Internationale.” After a couple of seconds he stopped sawing and looked at me. “Ah, you are journalist, yes?” Yes? “Come in for bro-grab.” Before I had an opportunity to meet him or dive out of the way, he was on me like an angry bear. He then released me and looked me over. “Yes, you will do.” I wondered how hard it would be to get tiger blood out of flannel. It wouldn’t be the last unique question I’d ask on my travels. That was how I met former Russian President, current PM, Vladimir Putin. *** I found out in my first few hours
with Vladimir that he was not much on shirts. At first I thought he was just really proud of his communism-forged abs, but after a while I discovered it was just a cover for a severe chafing problem. He would stay half naked for most of our travels. After a few awkward moments, he pulled from his Jordache jeans a piece of yellow, lined paper. He unfolded it on the table and cleared his throat. “I come to America.” He stopped right there and raised a single eyebrow at me. I considered agreeing with him that, yes, he did come to America, but then he went on. “For years I think to myself, ‘Vladi, these Yankees, they are not like us Russians, yes?’ [Yes] I think I want to—how you say—road trip. See what makes Yankees click. I want to see Real America.” Through his vodka-laced voice and my heat stroke I could hear that he was serious, he wanted me to write
Putin devises a game of “ranged tag.” It isn’t as fun as it looks.
about his—our—journey through the arteries of America. He had selected me—probably for my lack of a home security system and any close family ties—to chronicle this pilgrimage. *** Vladimir took me by the arm outside. There in the waning daylight he showed me what he called “The Sturgeon,” a massive, red, convertible Cadillac. This was to be our ferry and Vladimir was to be the Virgil to my Dante. That is if I understood Wikipedia correctly. May 24th We stopped at some nameless greasy spoon across from a Shell station. I’d been holding in a 64 oz. Mountain Dew since we started and
Vladimir refused to stop because we were “good time making” (he then cackled and stomped on the accelerator). So when we finally did stop at a restaurant I had barely undone my button-fly before the call hit me. When I returned there was a slice of pie and a cup of coffee to greet me at our table. I told Vlad that I wasn’t hungry, but then he gave me that I-will-gulag-thefuck-out-of-you look, so I took a bite out of my own sense of self-preservation. I washed down the bite with a slug of black coffee and he started laughing. “Ha! I poison your coffee make!” he said as he slapped his knee. “Huh?” is all I could get out. “Polonium!” Then he busted up even louder, making a diabetic amputee with a shirt that said ‘God Don’t Make Junk’ turn around and stinkeye us. “Oh man, you should sees your face! I totally had gots your going!”
He’s said this at every single meal we’ve had together. I’m starting to think he’s not joking around. May 28th Vladimir has a massive collection of knives. I have no idea where he got these things from or why he has eighty-nine of them. The trunk is full of them. That and the mummified remains of a timber wolf. He shrugged. “He looked at me.” He sniffed. “Once.” May 30th “I call it the Rasputin,” he says to me, pouring the Stoli through a funnel filled with ice into an Iron Man collector’s cup. He said this as if he was answering a question I never thought to ask. “Is three measures NOVEMBER
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vodka.” He poured a little bit more. “And two measures vodka.” The bottle went dry and sailed out the window. “Is real man’s drink.” I told him I could man the Sturgeon if he wanted me to. He waved me off and said that I needed to “nut up” and that I was acting like “a Kazakh.” For some reason, I thought of Thanksgiving at my parents’ house. June 4th I couldn’t tell if it was the time we ran out of gas outside of Del Rio or the time he got high on mescaline and drove through a field of sheep, but something inside him changed. Right as I gave up on wondering what he was thinking, he spoke up. “I am grow blue-ball violent.” I was sure this was a collection of words that made sense to Vladimir, but to me the meaning was entirely lost. “I am in need of combat. I am need to see wolverine fight! But wheres?” I had to admit I didn’t know where. Conflict was something I saved for hypothetical discussions I had with my boss or for the internet, so I couldn’t aid him in his quest for animal-bound violence. Not that I wanted to. As we reached the top of a hill, he looked out to where the Earth met
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the sky. “We will goes to land of the Aztecs. We’s will journal to Mexico.” Sanity and reason, I would later find out, left us on that hill. June 6th What follows was written down after all was said and done. My notebook was lost when the Sturgeon lost a tire and burst into flames against an elm tree. When I regained consciousness, I found Vladimir standing over me smirking. It appeared, in the confusion, he had lost his shirt. He nodded at me and winked. Without a word, miles from anywhere, we began to walk. *** The black wilderness seemed to stretch for hundreds of miles in every direction and thousands of years into the past. It was as though we were in a land that man had never walked through before. Even Nature seemed to be absent from the earth we walked over. It was just us two and our footfalls. Out of the moonless night Vladimir said, “I think I maybe get it. Maybe not what I cames for, but I know something.” He stopped and
took up a handful of pebbles and sand. “I knows something.” He let the gravel fall from between his fingers. Just then I saw it. Civilization. A glittering beacon out in the middle of this expanse of misery. We started running for it. Or I thought we did. Hours of Hell ended in a few seconds of sprinting (followed by ten minutes of breathless hobbling). I collapsed against the tin side of a truck stop. A bearded man that looked like Jerry Garcia spat a mouthful of tobacco a few inches from my foot. I told him that I needed to find a phone and that my friend Vladimir and I had an accident and we needed to call for help. The man just stared at me. “Who’s Vladimir?” I looked to my left and my right, but Vladimir was nowhere to be found. Sometime in my dash for salvation he had slipped away into the night. Maybe it had something to do with what he found out on that walk or maybe it had to do with the mushrooms he ate or maybe, just maybe Vladimir was the kind of man that needed to be lost in the shadow of the Earth. [Editor’s Note: The writer could not be found for editorial purposes. When his apartment was checked on by law enforcement officials it appeared that he had packed and departed hastily.]
Putin posing in front of the Sturgeon, moments before hitting the open road.
T H I S I S A R EAL A D V ERT I S EM EN T – P L EA S E S U P P O RT O U R S P O N S O R S
sports
Tom Brady is still alive and glowing. Many fainted when he went down in week one. Like a missile into the Statue of Liberty, America lost something dear and iconically chiseled. We crashed Brady’s loft in New York to check in with our old pal to see how he’s doing, maybe make him some tea. After some coaxing he let us in.
Just Look At Him
Grunion Sometimes: The injury’s been tough, yeah? Tom Brady: Yeah, well, it hurts more now not being out there with my teammates. I take every loss really hard. I’m getting better though. GS: Wow, that’s just, heroic. Where do you get the courage to persevere? TB: I’m not sure it’s courage. I’m just thinking of next year, and getting 100 percent for next season. The goal is another title. I’ll be back. I felt... GS: Yeah… TB: You know, I’ve been getting into XMen. I’ve been inspired by the guy with claws, you know, the guys who can’t get hurt. It’s been an asset to my recovery. GS: You’re a fan of comics too!? Man, I thought you jocks were all cock and— TB: No. I just watched the movie. GS: Are you physical at home? TB: Sometimes. I’ll punch the couch in fits of rage. I’ll lift weights for a couple of hours. Mostly I’ve been taking a lot of baths.
GS: Bubbles? TB: Not usually. GS: So, do you miss all your guy friends? TB: Like my teammates? GS: Mm hm… TB: Oh you bet. Just practicing with all the guys, sweating, getting physical—it’s all so addicting. I even miss Coach Belichick screaming at us, you know, riding us pretty hard. GS: I know what you mean. TB: You played football? GS: No. TB: Well, you get the idea. Football is how I breathe. It feels like I’m locked in a closet up here. I need to break out, run some laps, shit like that. GS: You don’t say…so, give us a typical post-game locker room scenario. TB: I’m not sure I know what you mean. GS: Okay, what would a writer-guy like me see if he walked into a locker room with a bunch of big athletes? TB: Probably a bunch of naked athletes. Again, this interview has me a bit perplexed. That seems like a dumb question. Oh well.
You’d probably see me showering with Randy Moss, or maybe even Teddy Bruschi, and then I’d ice my knees or something. Maybe a massage or two. GS: I hear you and Giselle [Bundchen, Brady’s girlfriend of no real significance or beauty] are on the rocks. Looking to move on? TB: That’s…not really true. Where did you hear that rumor? GS: After thirty years of dating women, don’t you feel like you’ve had them all? Maybe you need something new. TB: I think this interview just got a little weird. GS: Let me level with you Tom. TB: I don’t want you to level— GS: What are the chances of Tom Brady, you, and a writer like me, getting together for a summer afternoon, a few lemonades, a few routes, corner posts toward the old willow tree...what say you, Tom? Maybe a swim in Mossy Pond? TB: Maybe. I’d say maybe. Trevor Daniels loves sports to a fault. NOVEMBER
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news
Top 5 Greatest Moments in Fashion
Here at GS we celebrate all
things fashion. Fashion didn’t happen in just a day. How could that happen? It doesn’t make any sense. Follow me as I take you through the top 5 groundbreaking moments that ever happened with clothes.
1. Dog Fashion Invented In 1893, a dog fell into a big pile of baby clothes and history was made when it walked out looking cute as heck. This moment was so momentous that it also topped our “25 Greatest Moments in Dog History” list. Baby dogs do not have to only be dressed in baby’s clothes, but they prefer it. Today you can see dogs everywhere strutting their stuff in some of the world’s finest clothing by the world’s foremost designers. Go out and thank a dog for pushing the boundaries of fashion today!
2. Baby Clothes Invented
Up until 1890, it was against the law for babies to be clothed in any way in the 18
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United States. Houses were all built with a special naked baby room so families could hide their unsightly naked babies. Tubes of milky mush were fed into the baby’s room until the infant was old enough to be legally clothed. This dark time in American history was finally concluded when a baby (genius) was able to ride a wave of mush out a window into a pair of pants. The president at the time happened to be walking by and was so impressed that he ordered all baby related laws to be abolished at once. Everyone got to dress up their babies like little people and put little shoes on their baby feet and all that. Thus, America as we know it was born.
3. Sassy Clothes Invented We all know this legendary moment in fashion history. A man who has asked to remain nameless wrote “Hey you look like a dumb guy” on his shirt and the hospital started overflowing with people who were in comas and who were dead. Holy moly! Men’s fashion was completely reinvented forever. The sassy t-shirt industry is now the most profitable in-
dustry in the world. Each day countless shirts with devastating personal attacks are created and sold for big bucks. Insulting t-shirt-related deaths are at an all time low. It is this reporter’s dream that one day these groundbreaking shirts will only cause serious injury and not death.
4. A Guy Put His Arm under His Shirt and made it Look Like His Heart Was Coming out of His chest!!! This happened at a party I was at on Saturday. Simply astounding. There is no doubt this will revolutionize the fashion industry. Way to go, Mike! See you Wednesday.
5. First Guy With Six Pack Abs This was me. I did this. I wear tight shirts so you can see them through my clothes. You’re welcome. Jeff Bridges, Actor is a GS staff writer. Yes, that Jeff Bridges, Actor.
news
Obama Stealing Sarkozy’s Panache SINCE MAY OF 2007, Nicolas
Sarkozy, President of the French Republic, has enjoyed his spot as the “sexiest badass in international politics.” The suave, über French President has been grooming his oohyou-bad-bad-political-boy veneer for quite a while. Sarkozy, who publicly stated in early 2007 that he was a “major fan” of Pepé Le Pew, left his first wife in 1996 to marry Cecilia Ciganer-Albeniz, a former fashion model and then-public relations official. Sarkozy then went on to leave Albeniz for the younger, hotter singer, Carla Bruni, whom he married in 2008. Throughout his romantic escapades, political analysts have stated that Sarkozy “looked damn good doing it.” But in a report issued by UN watercooler officials on Monday, analysts say that on January 20th, 2009, when Barack Obama is sworn in, Sarkozy is set to have some stiff competition. Despite Sarkozy’s rugged looks and serial monogamy, the fact that Barack Obama is black means that he is “far more badass then Sarkozy. Even with the fidelity of Obama’s marriage considered…[Sarkozy] will have to consider other avenues of behavior to beef up his badassitude.” The report then goes on to address a
question implicit in this issue: Will Obama’s more “badass” image spruce up the current “douchey” American image? Apparently, yes. The UN states that the global community is beginning to acknowledge the US as “way cooler than [they] initially thought.” White House Officials are “stoked” by the news. Additionally, the election of Barack Obama has spelled out problems for the Gaullic image on the whole. The US President’s blackness, and the American people’s acceptance of this fact, highlights the virulent racism that still plagues France today. The report surprisingly went on to say, “Although [the French] are attractive and seem to be put together even on an ‘off ’ day, they are significantly more openly hateful than the US.” This portion of the study’s findings not only sent shockwaves through the KKK brass, it also spurred a rapid push for more funding toward investigating the link between attractiveness and hatred on a global level—a link that has been long suspected by many people who have spent their lives analyzing data in labs and cubicles. Sarkozy stated that, in light of the current financial crisis, his image and the image of the French people is “not such a big
deal, no?” However, GS has received conflicting reports. According to sources close to the president, Sarkozy has been diligently re-viewing multiple films starring Steve McQueen, Paul Newman, and Robert Redford and has switched to Marlboros instead of his usual hand-rolled, custom cigarettes. He has also been sighted making out with his wife in front of the Louvre and buying aviator Ray-Bans in bulk. While the badassness of both Obama and Sarkozy can obviously be documented, the “sexy” factor is harder to guage. But the report suggests that Obama may be ahead there as well. Sarkozy’s being Hungarian apparently “strongly works against him” and the report goes on to say, “Obama’s father is from Kenya. That, compounded with the fact that he spent a significant portion of his life in Hawaii, classifies Obama as ‘exotic’ and may even mean he can surf.” While the report acknowledges that “exotic” does not directly mean sexy, the facts are hard to dismiss. “While sexiness is indeed harder to accurately quantify, our numbers suggest that once the arena of global politics has gone Barack, it will be very hard to go back.” Bossy Boots is a GS contributor and kind of a bitch. NOVEMBER
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news
Local Man Regrets Building House Out of Fire Harlan Fischer, an American
like any other, had a dream. His dream? To raise his family in the comfort of his very own home. But unlike most Americans, Fischer, 48, set his sights on a house built out of fire—and built it he did. Says Fischer, “You know, during the winter, we save gobs of money on our heating.” Adding that the summer gets “a tad uncomfortable.” But recent droughts brought on hard times for the pyro-architect. The house unpredictably consumed five neighboring homes and a community center. “I’ll admit, in hindsight building a house out of living flame may have been a mite irresponsible, but this country was formed on crazy dreams—I’m a pioneer.” Sonja Onnakoch, 34, fire specialist, had
this to say regarding the recent trend of pyro-structures springing up in the American Southwest: “You know you’re five times more likely to kill a family member with a flaming house than an intruder? These are the numbers, folks. People don’t think about these things when they get swept up in trends like the ectoplasm boom of the mid-’80s—I don’t have to tell you what a mess that was.” Fischer, in the mean time, is picking up
the pieces. “I think we’re gonna try Montana next.” Gaelic Forskyne is a GS staff writer and a registered sex offender in your state and twelve others.
T H I S I S A R EAL A D V ERT I S EM EN T – P L EA S E S U P P O RT O U R S P O N S O R S
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with
GSQ&A
Kanye West
QUESTION & ASK
Kanye dishes about his upcoming album, his crusade against cameras, and his new favorite artist, Kanye West.
So Kanye, tell me about your new album. I know it’s coming out on November 24th and it’s call— Kanye West: Hey man, you gotta pre-order if you want to say the name of my new album. Actually, you’re going to have to pre-order it right now if you want this interview to continue. Okay, I think I have a twenty here. Believe me, you’re getting more than your money’s worth. This album is actually worth $3,000, but the label told me I couldn’t charge people for the full value. I’m losing a lot of money that way. So you use a lot of auto-tune when you sing— Actually that’s auto-detune. My singing is literally perfect, I’m incapable of messing up, so they have to add mistakes in digitally. I can’t sing around dogs because their brains explode when they hear me. THIS IS A REAL ADVERTISEMENT – PLEASE SUPPORT OUR SPONSORS
Okay. So tell me about your recent scuffle with a photographer in London. You know, he disrespected me and I just couldn’t let it slide. You remember how angry those Muslims got when they had printed pictures of Mohammed? Well, my flyness is lightyears ahead of that guy, and they still wonder why I got so upset. It’s like they’re committing blasphemy, but it’s on me. Which is worse. Speaking of religion, you’ve made waves for heavily referencing Jesus in your songs. Now— Yeah, but I think I’m beyond religion now, beyond Jesus. Like if Jesus came back today, he’d be rapping about Kanye. Alright. Let’s… umm… what albums are you listening to right now? Well of course I’ve been listening to some tracks off my new album, but other than that I’ve been mainly listening to Graduation and Late Registration. Sometimes I wake up and listen to my songs and I’m just like, “damn, that Kanye is a genius.” So you think you’re a genius? Hey man, that’s a proven fact. They ran my rhymes through a computer and it measured my IQ in the top 99-percentile. So I don’t think that. I think I’m a revolution of human stylization, the likes of which cannot be compared and will never be seen again. I think I’m on the verge of re-inventing the snare drum and the polo shirt. A genius though? I think that’s an obvious answer. Okay. Have you made any plans beyond this new album? Well, we’re going to be having International Kanye Awareness Month in March. That’s gonna be really great for the world. But if you want to know what’s coming after that, you’re going to have to pre-order. I’ll leave you with a hint though: “Charmeuse Jetsuits.”
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Interview by Acid “The Interview” Snackhaus
FILM & TV GOSSIP
TIP SLIPS & BALL FALLS
GS TAKES AN INSIDE LOOK AT THE OUTSIDE LOOKS of some celebrity twigs and berries CROWE’S NEST Left: The Crowe Family Jewels flop out of Russell’s chic, practical jogging shorts as he walks two strangers home from school. POST-OP POP DIVA Top right: Britney lets the bag out of the cat. TWO FOR THE MONEY SHOT Bottom right: Ol’ McConau-hey-oh method acts with the sand for the upcoming sequel to Surfer, Dude (Surf Free or Die Dude).
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PHOTOGRAPHS ANSEL ADAMS, DIANE ARBUS, MATTHEW McCONAUGHEY
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We’ll Be Back December 1st