bjork on TV!

from this very nice tumblr!



sweet anticipation



dear jrs rules.
who are you?
you are our new bansky.
fuck you.



Little Boots

Little Boots can't stay out of my DJ sets lately. I find myself compelled (at least 3 times a night) to constantly send the kids on the dancefloor into post-post-modern orgasms. It would appear that we all have a collective musical hard-on for this young Brit. Google her...

And now for something completely different...


I don't understand any of this shit, in truth...




Today, much to my surprise, I received this pocketbook in the mail. Now, I know there are a lot of things that I do whilst under the influence of alcohol, but the purchase and acquisition of this book was not done by my hand, but by that of an anonymous sender. There was not a note, or a letter to accompany this lovely gift. Indeed, there was no indication of it's origin to be found. So here I sit, bewildered and flattered. Thankful for the existence of such a magnanimous individual.



(click to enlarge)


celebrity hot tub

check out the photos every week on facebook, got to the group, the palomino group or search Randy Gibson and you'll find them. :-) See you there.




Autumn {it might be the best}

Autumn has got to be my most favorite of seasons. Tweed and plaid, chunky sweaters, Oxford button downs and pea coats. There's absolutely no reason not to enjoy a lazy Sunday brunch and a brisk walk down the lane. Essentially, to me, fall means friends and companionship; Green tea and Jameison's whisky and of course the ubiquitous return of the umbrella.


Electronic Music {Literally}

There is no speaker. This is not just a light show. These tesla coils are actually producing the sounds with LIGHTNING!

Fuck you Daft Punk...

Bad Fox...


“I love my daughter dearly,” said Tonachio who, believe it or not when you look at her picture, was made a grandma twice over by her other daughter. “But Megan is, well, Megan. She’s open and honest. She’s a real person, which is refreshing. I know she has a good sense of humor, and I take this interview in that context.

“Is it all true? I don’t know. It’s possible she made it up just like it’s possible that it happened. I doesn’t really matter to me.”

Which led to this question about Megan’s affinity for strip bars. Fox, a frequent dweller in diverse “Hot” lists, spreads around another story in LaLaLand. According to a source, Megan first walked into a bosom bazaar at age 16 when, as a junior at St. Lucie West Centennial High School, she and friends trekked south to Club Peekaboo in Lake Worth.

There, the story goes, precocious Megan delighted everyone with gyrations at the proverbial pole - while keeping on her clothes.


{Read the rest here}

"The problem with hype is that it transforms the use value of a would-be work of art into its exchange value.

The important thing is no longer what a song, movie, or book does to you. The big question is its relationship to its reputation."

Election '08

Not that I often (note: often is not synonymous with never) follow any of the news that is related to the American elections; BUT after stumbling across this image (which I assume was snapped by Richardson himself) I can't very well say that I don't support Obama.

Terry Richardson (pictured to the left) has been one of our favorite photographers at The Private School for a long time now and I must say, if Barack can enjoy the work he does (or even be photographed in his company) then he's most definitely the candidate I would support were I to ever tolerate being an American citizen.




Sadly I've been keeping this one to myself...

If you've grown tired of your own collection of music to simply chill out to (and I know I have from time to time) then click on the photos above and enjoy some PIG Radio. The best indie rock and electronic radio station on the internet. Oh, and while you're at it, tell your friends...

{the banner is the link to broadband streaming
and the photo is for shortband. enjoy}


typface personified!

if only this could be love-ely displayed in a pretty video box... it's college humour wit at it's best:



FACTORY PARTY #1 (aftermath)


life after doomsday

I couldn’t believe how much fun summer ’84 in Italy’s Rimini was—Britain was a miserable grey dump and, before acid house, the NME hadn’t given heteros permission to go clubbing or listen to dance music yet. Warm sunshine and Adriatic sea-breeze to caress your features, glasses of chilled Chianti, ice-cream and pizza parlours, sultry dark-haired booty wherever you looked, the buzz of Vespas up and down the main promenade—and then as dusk fell, still sporting my Ray-Bans, I’d go hand-in-hand with Carlotta and her 17-year-old sister to the Paradiso to get completely blissed out to the 100 percent happy sounds of Italian disco music.

And what an exciting soundtrack it proved to be to those memorable nocturnal frenzies: stolen exploratory fumbles and kisses and dodgy handjobs in the Paradiso’s toilets. Because 80s Italo-disco or Eurobeat, with its hardcore hi-NRG gay, amyl-nitrate-scented dance origins, is a pop music that’s actually both irresistibly sexy, genuinely infectious and tons more fun to lose your inhibitions to than the mainstream, supposedly “artistically superior” dance music that millionaire DJs churn out for ecstasy casualties who find spirituality in Ibiza...