I will be casting dancers for a music video to be shot in late January. If you are my friend on MySpace you may have heard about this already. Here is the info:

+The artist is Yelle, and the song is "Tristesse Joie (Rolf Honey Remix)".

Yelle - Tristesse Joie (Rolf Honey Remix)

+The video will be shot January 31st in the desert.

+The video will be shot and directed by Bastien Lattanzio.

+Reebok is paying for the video, so all of the dancers will be wearing Reeboks.

+Need to know how to dance, period. Hip Hop/Freestyle steez, but not too b-boy/breakdance. We need that fancy footwork!

+Currently looking for 1 (one) female and 1 (one) male dancer until further notice.

All dancers interested please inquire for more information (including how to audition and how much we are paying): vgrnts@vgrnts.com



Throughout the early 1980's, Styling Garage was one of the world's most renowned auto tuning and customizing shops. Based in Germany, and catering to the biggest Hollywood actors, Arabian sultans, sheiks, and wealthy upper-echelon auto enthusiasts all over the place, they basically specialized in taking the most luxury of luxury whips and tweaking them in every corner and crevice to create what most people only fantasized about driving.

The 80's were the epitome of having a luxury vehicle. Just imagine... everything from gullwing doors, color TVs with VCRs, one of those brick-sized cellular phones, shit even a refrigerator... all covered in cherry red leather and wood grain... MMMMMM.

Just close your eyes and smell the money.

For some reason, even when I see a car like this driving around nowadays, all I can think is drug money. There was a time period when I was in 4th grade that I lived at my Grandma's house in Santa Ana, and I remember my 30+ year old uncle Robbie lived there with his son, who to me was my younger cousin known simply as "Lil' Robbie". My grandma was always tired of him bringing his homies to the house, drinking 40's and smoking blunts in the backyard while they barbequed listening to NWA, Dr. Dre, Egyptian Lover, Jimi Hendrix... basically everything my Grandma didn't want me to listen to, all on his 4-foot-tall speaker system he "got from a friend".

I don't know exactly what he did for a living, but I do know he had the illest BMW 3-Series on the block with metallic paint and chrome everywhere, and Lil' Robbie always went back to school with a fresh pair of kicks and clean gear to match.

ALL he ever did was work on his and his homies' cars in the driveway. That was all they cared about. Getting whatever late model BMW/Benz/Lexus/Infiniti, stripping the paint, ripping the guts out, and making it the sickest car on the block.

I remember getting home from school one day, and Robbie pulls up in the most ridiculous, beat up Mercedes, covered in primer spots and dirt. I even think the windshield may have been cracked. After inquiring about where he got it exactly and how much it cost him, the only response I recieved was him showing me this photo of Egyptian Lover and saying, "See that car outside? It's going to look exactly like this in 3 weeks."

I haven't seen or heard from Uncle Robbie or Lil' Robbie in years, but wherever you are, keep doing your thang, Uncle Robbie...

Keep doing your thang.



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Hats off to JBS Underwear. This ad campaign needs no further explanation.

To tell you the truth, I always thought those Hanes ads with Michael Jordan were shitty anyways. Plus you could totally read through the blank expression on his face everytime he said whatever stupid punchline they wrote him.

Enthusiasm is just so key in certain situations.

(The opposite) sex sells.



Format Magazine finished up an in-depth retrospective on some of 2007's best of the bests in the whole fashion-sneaker-design-film-music-shred category. This website is a daily check for me; they are always on point when it comes to updates and content.

New York based graphic designer Dust La Rock took cover of the top 10 album covers of 2007:

MWM chose the top 10 artists/designers of 2007 (Alex Trochut made #3):

And DC based rapper WALE held down the top 10 sneakers of 2007:

View the entire wrap-up HERE.



Just four-hundred-and-thirty-four days ago was the moment I made the move from Santa Ana, California to the ever illustrious capital of the West we call Los Angeles. Not that Santa Ana wasn't a capital in itself to begin with; the Greater Los Angeles Area consists of Los Angeles, Long Beach, and Santa Ana, the main three cities officially responsible for the agglomeration "Southland". I mean, Eureka takes credit for being the "official" capital, but we all know where the real gold diggers are. (UPDATE: Sacramento is the capital of California, and I obviously didn't finish grade school.)

I definitely can't say I started 2007 with any type of game plan, nonetheless a head start. As the last half of 2006's final trimester approached its destined moment of truth, it seemed as though the unhappy ending of a once passionately chased dream had reversed its way through the space-time continuum to destroy the very life it was destined to blossom.

I ended the year with one of the biggest moves I'd make in my 19-some-odd years: the decision to get up, pack a lunch, and move my ass to LA. Merriam-Webster defines the word "singular" in many ways, almost all of them describing the path I chose, but the most accurate one is: "departing from general usage or expectation." Every parent/guardian has expectations of their children, but how much can they expect from a child that raised him or her self?

The past few paragraphs have the potential to become the introduction to my life story as an adult, but instead of getting extra epic on all ya'll I decided to give a brief (very long) 2007 photo retrospective. Each and every photo has its own story behind it, and holds a special place in the bottom of my heart.


Time flies.