Writers Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain, authors of "Please Kill Me: An Uncensored Oral History Of Punk," come to West Ashley's Tin Roof Monday night. Here's my colorful chat with Legs...
Left cheek, right cheek, left cheek, right cheek... the story of me, Latin dance, T-Pain's Booty Wurk, and about as much awkward Caucasian dancing as you can stand
The Manti T'eo story is weird, and yet it's currently drowning in the murky waters of Lance's arrogant mea culpa. Tim reminded us that those "dangerous" musician types may not be so bad after all
...a lot of things. The list of scandal makers in sports (and finance and Congress and so on) is growing. Sure, nobody's perfect, but I have to ask: Could rock and roll be the last noble profession?
I took my six-year-old to Blue Man Group on Friday at the PAC, which blew his mind with Twinkie tricks, jigsaw bits, and all-out hilarity. In the end? Oh, that six-year old got down with his bad self
Sex, drugs, and... well, suicide sells. Why artist types can't imagine themselves out of misery, and why the music industry can't get enough of it. (Caution: I don't have answers, just big questions)
"Time tricks," asking for help, giving negative people the boot... I'm hitting the New Year with a cheat sheet for finding balance with family, work, and everything in between. What are your tricks?
What part of town do you call home? West Trashy? Mount Plastic? My upcoming move from JI to West Ash has me paying mind to the stereotypes (or are they judgements?) we in the Lowcountry give our hoods
Let's all take a minute and reminisce on some punk rock. After 17 years together, one local star of the genre—FLK—is still searching for some respect (and is playing this weekend in West Ashley!)
This one speaks for itself today—the one-week anniversary of the Newtown tragedy. We're grieving and mourning those children lost, yet still celebrating this season and the story of The Child
When words are inadequate and the ache is deep, amidst prayers for peace and sanity and gun control and more sanity, some Kiwi kids offer this... to help celebrate the season of the child
When I heard of the tragedy, my first reaction was to be afraid—to hold my children tight. But today is different. Today, I'm angry and I'm fighting back by showing that love is greater than any evil
The lights dimmed in the Dock Street Theatre and suddenly we were all kids again ("I said THE word, the big one, the queen-mother of dirty words...") Want in? Get your ticket! The show ends SUNDAY
Did you know that you can actually hang out Folly in the winter? Without all the shirtless and sweaty volleyball games, shotgunned beers, and asphalt-seared feet? Yeah, me neither. Not a bad Sunday...
They may have rhythm, good looks, and a magnetic personality, but I bet they don't have a refrigerator that looks like an amp. Here's this and more great gift ideas (from an award-winning blogger...)
Pre-pubescent porn hunts, old Asian liquor, and Reservoir Dogs... Ever since I can remember, my family-and-friends holiday has been less turkey and stuffing, more raucous fun and wild mischief
The holiday season got off to an early, swinging start with the Charleston Jazz Orchestra's "Holiday Swing" show at the Charleston Music Hall last Wednesday. If you miss it, here's what you missed
3 gooey cheeses + truffle oil + macaroni= delish. Here's the recipe you've gotta serve on Thursday, or any old day when you need a good dose of comfort food
