At last night’s Fresno stop of the Scary Kids Scaring Kids / Haste the Day tour, some illmatic drama went down, proving once again what everyone in California already knows, that Fresno is a fucking dump:

We’d like to explain to everybody what happened tonight, and apart from it all we’d like to thank everybody who stood with us.

Shortly after Haste The Day’s set, when we were about to play tonight, a member of security told everybody, including us for the first time that there were “technical difficulties” and that the show would be postponed for minutes at most. He also asked that everybody leave the main stage area and enter the merch area until they figured everything out.

we had personally been told that the venue had a visit from the fire marshall because they were over capacity, and were escorting people out of the show to reach the allowed number of people.

After the Fire Marshall left, We had heard that they might be shutting the show entirely down and after a short while, we decided we would play to ensure that everyone who had paid had gotten their moneys worth.

Then some shit went down. Security refused to allow people back through the only door that lead to the main room. We told security from stage that everybody should be let through to watch the rest of the show. We continued playing, until I was handed a phone with a text saying “people are being pepper sprayed. ” We immediately stopped playing and told security that the police were being called and that we were ending the show in order to look out, and be there for all our fans stuck outside being sprayed.
The night concluded with police vehicles surrounding the venue and ambulances helping young girls and boys wash pepper spray out of their eyes.

We want everyone to know how furious we are at security, and venues that destroy the community we have built together.
We have worked for many years with little help to share love and will continue being true to our goals.
We are working to find a way to make it up to everybody who was put through this with us tonight.
Even if it comes down to playing a house party, I promise we will make it up.

much love.

Pouyan

Scary Kids

Damn.

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So this is old news for anyone who actually listened to Drive-Thru records artist Halifax’s new record when it came out last year (which is probably about 5 people), but just now in the office, one of our video guys was encoding the video for Halifax’s “Our Revolution” for our top secret forthcoming project and it reminded me exactly how much of fucking scam that song is. Check out the video:

Then check out the video for the classic. Same riff, same beat, same chorus. JUST 20 YEARS TOO LATE BRO! TOTALLY BUMMED!

Congratulations to Wesley Snipes for being a rich ass motherfucker whose too stingy to pay the same taxes that broke ass working folks like us have to pay, AND GETTING AWAY WITH IT!!!eleven!!one. As we reported last year, Blade / White Men Can’t Jump / Demolition Man / Other Shitty Action Movies No One Wants to Admit They Remember star Wesley Snipes was facing a possible 40-years in prison on federal tax fraud charges. But today it was announced that he had been aquitted on the most serious of these charges, but found guilty on three lesser charges of failing to file a tax return. Though these offenses are punishable by up to three years in the joint, chances are good that he will get off with a fine, that he can easily pay with his massive offshore stockpile of loot, and a couple signed pictures of him pwning vampires for the judge’s goth son. Speculation is growing that he will also soon be named Ron Paul’s running mate. Stay tuned.

“America’s toughest sheriff,” Joe Arpaio of Maricopa County, AZ, has long been a controversial figure in law enforcement. Arpaio’s dessert reign has drawn much national attention and criticism for his hard line stance on the rights of inmates. He’s also made news within the past year for his public appeal to have Paris Hilton serve the remainder of her DUI sentence in Maricopa.

With this weekend’s Super Bowl headed towards his jurisdiction, “Nicklebag” Joe (a D.E.A. nickname bestowed upon Arpaio for his litany of small-time arrests) has come out with antagonistic comments towards the celebrity fanfare, most specificly quarterbacks Tom Brady and Eli Manning. Arpaio boasts that he has a “pair of pink underwear, a bologna sandwich and a spot in a dirty old prison tent for Tom Brady, Eli Manning or, most certainly, Paris Hilton.”

GIVE ME A BREAK. Tom Brady? Eli fucking Manning? These are pretty boys, clean as they come, who would never, ever find their way into the trouble with the law, let alone before the Super Bowl. Arpaio brings three words to mind: ludicrous, shameless and malicious. When checking Nicklebag’s history of violation towards constitutional rights, I suppose though that it is not surprising such comments would be made. This is a man that dreams of having Maricopa County be home to the largest collection of inmates in the country. This is the type of heavy handed law and order that fosters every type of brutal stereotype hung on cops across the nation. Joe Arpaio is the kind of guy that takes great pleasure in the pain of others.

Here is a website with much information, dedicated to Joe Arpaio’s removal from law enforcement.

So what if Mary Kate Olsen and Heath Ledger were hooking up? I don’t really care and neither should you. The point is that Heath’s masseuse found him “cold to touch” and called Mary Kate 2 times before the police, knowing that she was at least a trusted friend who had the ability to send help. She knew the situation was delicate. She was probably thinking about the massive amount of cameras, the morbid public eye, and the apathy of police work when she dialed Mary Kate to frantically ask what to do. Yeah, it looks a little shady, but when you read his last interview in the New York Times, you’ll see there’s no foul play. Just a tragic accident with sleeping pills; a male Marilyn Monroe. May he rest in peace and his life be celebrated.

As often happens when he throws himself into a part, the actor is not sleeping much.

“Last week, I probably slept an average of two hours a night. I couldn’t stop thinking. My body was exhausted, and my mind was still going.”

One night, he said, he took an Ambien, which failed to work. He took a second one and fell into a stupor, only to wake up an hour later, his mind still racing.

Even as he spoke, Ledger was hard-pressed to keep still. He got up and poured more coffee. He stepped outside into the courtyard and smoked a cigarette. He shook his hair out from under its hood, put a rubber band around it, took out the rubber band, put on a hat, took off the hat, put the hood back up. He went outside for another cigarette.

Polite and charming, he nonetheless gave off the sense that the last thing he wanted to do was delve deep into himself for public consumption.