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dickinson/mcjawn

Being low key and inclement heat brazing over the city this weekend, didn’t stop me from checking the block party thrown by, wait for it…Philly’s #1 art and cultural mag-McJawn(215 mag is ok, for shit we all heard before: the Roots, the police bombing a neighborhood of about 61 houses in North Philly, etc. etc.). Now I only stayed for the length of time it took me to finish a pint, and I was thirstaay…And rightfully sobrownies and heat are no match. For the short time I was there though:

I couldn’t get that Boners All the Time song out of my heads…inspired to see a collective that embraces communities outside of Fishtown and funky hippy town aka parts of West Philly…looking forward to seeing what becomes of McJawn, like I hope they all stay heroin free, and keep progress, because not only does the scene need them, the city benefits from events like theirs too. (215 mag block party?)

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The good peoples over at McJawn hip me to a party outside of Fishtown. And although their promo units lack the display of booty and bottles on a high gloss 5 by 7( like who’s idea was it to think outside the box), I might go. The lineup includes, obviously, well-dressed talents minus that hooch Amanda Blank.

Most fresh, their promotions:

mcjawn flyer

Throwing a jam the progressive way…their video too:

note…people from jersey, love yous, this isnt a nitrous party though.

Turned the corner, boom…two fights, two days in a row. Violence on the risethe official mark of summertime in Philly or could it be rolls on Chestnut sliding out cutters with “Pink” on the back? Either way, I saw that shit, and not down with either. Fresh baked cookies and mild sunrays are more my speed:

coolout cookies

Captain coolout all over again:

frederick knight

A book. Add in a robe and a pipe, and that would be an all around good look. Perhaps though, that look along with a visage likened to that of Frederick Douglas or just as easy, the chubby one from TOTR, is only how I view being an old head with kids:

role model

All wise looking and shit. Hmm, but I digress, you should get the old man a book…And may I recommend this one:

Regulars_Stolfa

So you’re thinking your sperm donor wouldn’t bother cracking open a book with such a snazzy cover…Like a, “fuck a Hoegaarden, I’ll go with the Miller Light” type scenario. Well that’s plausible, but it’s also likely that he would give you the “thought that matters” bit with the book back. And if you’ve ever slid into the dingy dive in Philly known as McGlinchey’s; you want this book. If you haven’t :

 Sarah Stolfa was a bartender before she became a photographer. “The Regulars” is a book of the photographs she took of her customers at McGlinchey’s, a hole-in-the-wall bar in Center City, Philadelphia, where she worked for ten years (“or maybe it was eleven, I can’t quite remember,” she writes.) Not all of the peopleare as beautiful as Joanna O’Boyle, pictured on the cover, but all of them capture the strange mix of intimacy and distance that can come with serving drinks. Here, Stolfa writes more about the distance bit:

McGlinchey’s is known for its surly bartenders. How could we be anything else after so many nights of customers vomiting, fighting, screaming, swearing, leaving without tipping, snapping their fingers, or just generally being rude? I was probably one of the surliest, or so I have heard over and over. In my mind I wasn’t paid enough to be your friend or make you feel special. If you wanted that, you needed to go to the fine-dining restaurant around the corner where a beer was $7.00, not under $2.00.

Sounds kind of fun, yet a bit depressing, no? Droves of young, cool low-lifes mixed in with some of the most story baring faces to exist outside of ghettos and such:

regulars

So the annual Odunde festival was the other day in Philly. The ensuing emptiness felt from scenester filled spots; culture fraught with stereotypes, supported by advertisers and cattle consumers; and just simply how much the previous attended Odunde festivals were dug, all pushed me to go. Bought some incense for cool out time, vibed in the drum circle, and got lifted above a care in the world :

odunde 1

odunde2

odunde 3

odunde4

btw, her, omg!!!

odunde 5

she got lifted too:

odunde 7

And the styles were naturally dope. None of that contrived shit, where you buy a look regularly seen on the scene and rock with no added flavors, obviously:

odunde 8

Hopefully:

in booty shorts, the ladyfriend doesn’t scheme me into seeing Asher Roth…

antibalas summons the spirit of Fela…

the chubby one from TOTR grew his fro back and is rocking a pink shirt…

king britt…

hippies and peoples from Jersey save some tickets for North Philly and such…

i get in for free like dude said and even though it wasn’t discussed, no security checks on my socks…

tomorrow:

roots picnic

(video via mcjawn )

After watching that clip of peoples rocking out in some bohemian enclave of Phillywhich of course spawns things like free thought, collective individualism, and murky lines between heterosexual and homosexualityI thought to myself and have no problem sharing, obviously:

Tegan and Sarah, yeah this is some Tegan and Sarah shit. I’d smash though.

I wonder if, despite the emasculating band-aid, any of those chics, especially the indie one with the sucker(schwing! or zing!), was actually turned on by this guy’s willingness to speak so openly about his thing thing.

This would have been a smash if the dude really had a little boner. I would say “no homo” but I don’t care. I think that shit would’ve been so funny that I would’ve emailed it to my 2 friends that oppose gay marriage and my 1 homie in Texas that rocks gold fronts and listens to nothing but Z-Ro and Dj Screw.