Ham on Rye

I've lot of news from the pony express mail bag today and a pretty serious rant. It'll be like a news sandwich, good news/bad news/good news, no dijon.

Last night, Megan and I decided to make it official. We're going to go down to the courthouse! To buy the name next week (after we both get paid, duh) and turn this shit into a media empire, of course. It's not like we're getting married or anything. That would be gay.

It is mind-blowing to both of us what has happened in the last two months with this project and it is really satisfying to sprawl out in a booth in Churchill's and think "hey, maybe this is something we don't totally suck at." Here is my Mariah Carey moment, if we didn't have the support of our readers and friends and everyone who has pushed their dignity aside to plug us, we'd still just be a bunch of frumpy bitches dicking around on the internet. I mean, we still are, but we are a bunch of frumpy bitches with fans dicking around on the internet.

With all of that out of the way, I feel like it's time to address the unofficial Pony Girl Club mission statement. In our myspace's "about me" section Megan hits the nail on the head when she says "we are trying to find an honest language to talk about music in ways that are useful," because that is the entire reason we began this fuckery. I got so sick of bands I liked not getting enough attention because the writers over at other certain weblications were too busy swordfighting with their friends' bands (not the cool kind like in an epic battle, rather the kind where two straight dudes touch weenies) or certain bands being plugged because their label happens to bring in a great deal of ad revenue for another certain publication. I know what it's like to run a publication that is controlled by ad revenue and it sucks. Our main interest is (surprisingly, not Spencer Krug) bringing our readers stuff that we would want to know about a band without the bullshit of playing nice because so and so might pull their ads if we shit talk a band. The first promise I made myself when we started this blog was that I wasn't going to do favors for friends because that takes the honesty out of my writing and my credibility will exponentially decay. I like most of my friends' bands, although some of them include ultra-offensive hip-hop side projects or fake speed metal bands that I cringe at and look the other way, but unless you put out an album or play a show, you probably won't make it onto the site. We're never short on actual news, we're just short on time. Basically, I'm not going to write some sugar-spun feature about your shit just because you grew a fucking beard or I think your guitarist has a pretty bad case of the cute with a touch of the hot because it's not fair. You know what else? Sometimes I just don't like stuff. Okay, most of the time I just don't like stuff. I'm gonna be honest about it, because that's the only language we speak here at the Pony Girl Club.


For the tangy rye crust of this news sandwich, I'd like to officially welcome Dr. Bubastis as the newest Pony Girl. You may remember him ripping me a new one when I said the Refused were influential a while back, or more recently his Jeff Lewis style freakout about most of the venues in San Diego. The Doctor is not a freelance gynecologist like my other doctorly friends, but is rather fiendish in nature and sports a handlebar mustache. We're afraid he might tie us to the train tracks one of these days, coattails flapping in the wind. We tried to make a video of us hazing him into the ways of the Pony Girl but he and his mustache wanted to stay faceless. It's easier to be a mysterious villain that way. I can give you a rough recap of what happened though. We started out the day by demanding that the doctor procure a flat-bed tow truck so we can put two chaise lounges on the back and drink mimosas in our lolita sunglasses and bathing suits while he drives us by the beach. I like the beach, but I hate sand. It worked perfectly that way. Next, we strapped him to a chair and put on that headgear from A Clockwork Orange that peels your eyes open with tiny metal spider legs and made him watch all the Spencer Krug videos on youtube. Currently he alternates between being in love with Spencer and thinking he actually is The Krug. It's a little weird. We prefer when he thinks he is Spencer, personally.

Megan here, and I must concur that the Doctor is much more pleasant on those occasions when he believes himself to be the Krug. Last time he tuned my autoharp and gathered wildflowers and arranged them in the sitting room. Usually he lurks in the darkness, occasionally twisting his mustache and laughing maniacally.

Next in our day of hazing, we had a drinking contest with the Doctor but we didn't tell him that we were doing shots of water while he was doing shots of rumplemintz (sorry doc!). Next, we lined up all our female friends and had him run the gauntlet a few times while we hit him with pillows. Then we curled his eyelashes. We made him eat a jar of jalapenos and wash it down with a couple Arrogant Bastards, then we drove him around listening to Mariah Carey (and us singing along at top volume) until he puked on one of our ex-boyfriend's lawns. I think now he's ready to be a ponygirl.


in ponies you will always trust,

'stina and megan elizabeth

look who's vlogging

Here's something for you to nibble on: we named our club before we discovered "pony girls" were also a surprisingly popular porn genre. In our latest vlog, we briefly address this issue, as well as doing away with the common misconception that we are spoiled third graders with really expensive pets. We're cat ladies in our early twenties y'all.



ps in night vision I totally look like Paris Hilton in her sex tape. My life is way hard.

Hey you know what is really difficult?

Typing with a charred left index finger. Never try to manhandle a flat iron. Intentionally or otherwise.

With that out of the way, I am Christina. Or sometimes 'stina. It depends on how lazy I am feeling. One time, many moons ago, I took journalism 101 and somehow years later found myself in the editor in chief chair at a dumpy seaside community college. I'm a music major and kind of a jerk. I like dark, bitter beers and doing bad Morrissey impressions during the drive to ballet class. I am offensive, lewd and for the most part pretty mirthless. OH just kidding (about that mirthless part)! I love jokes.

Speaking of other stuff I love, my video of the week is Thee More Shallows' "Fly Paper."



In case you are incorrigibly stupid their name above is a link to their myspace. Two of my favorite songs on their 'space include "Night at the Knight School" and "The Dutch Fist."

These dudes hail from 'frisco and I think they should get way more attention than they do. If they don't want more attention I think someone should at least send them one of those Edible Arrangement things. You know, these:



They manage to pull off some pretty amazing things live, whilst maintaining the integrity of their songs AND Their albums are also free of any RIAA affiliation! Even better reason to buy them!

Maybe next week I will try to find a video with really foxy dudes in it or something. Mostly I will be trying not to post Peter Gabriel videos.

'stina.

p.s. Megan only thinks the Che smells like ass 'cause she was the one ripping it.

p.p.s. Seriously though, could you guys please shower?

B-A-B-Y

'sup y'all. My video of the day is the Brunettes "B-A-B-Y" because if we were at a slumber party I would most definitely shake my pom-poms at you and give you a basket full of puppies.



Anyway, my name is Megan Elizabeth and I think I'm an authority on music because I know how to work a record player, a tape deck, a cd player, an ipod, a guitar and a couple of drums. And because I figured out how to set up a blog. Bloggers are always right.

So yeah, I'm pretty much an expert and you should take everything I say to heart. Plus I was in a band for a while. We played at several house parties that weren't even all at my house in addition to a gig at the Che Cafe. For those of you who don't know, the Che Cafe is a very prestigious vegan venue on the UCSD campus that always smells like 8 kinds of B.O. and 6 kinds of ass but generally has some great music going on and I was super stoked to play there.

I haven't been involved in any musical projects for the last couple of years because I've been pretty busy being a comp lit geek and lurking in your libraries. Not that I don't still spend an uncontrollable amount of time and money on music... I definitely do. I want to make The Pony Girl Club a place where I can share what I find.