Summer Shirts!

It might be raining all over the world, but SUMMER IS UPON US! And that means its time for a new line of Ts from LITF. Have at ye brothers and sisters, with the freshest threads money can buy! Just £12 each, or £30 for all three! Boy oh boy!

First up, it's the BANKERS  T. Emblazoned with the chorus of my 2005 classic, which is tragically as apt as ever in this dark year of our lord, 20012 AD.

Next its the long overdue THUNDERCHRIST shirt. Featuring my ace art from the last ATD mixtape on a beautiful yellow haze shirt.

And last, but by no means least, it's the ATD NIRVANA SMILEY SHIRT! In my thirteenth summer, my favouritest band in the world was Nirvana, and my favouritest T shirt was their smiley shirt. So it is only right that in Summer 2012 I pay tribute, by combining two of the acest things I know: me, and that shirt! Screen printed on luxurious super soft charcoal black Gildan cotton in Cardiff, and drawn and designed by me, Akira The Don!

WOW! And, as mentioned, you can get all three for a mere £30. And not only that, but preorderers of that bundle will get a FREE song, the brand new and unreleased BANKERS 2012! So what on Earth are you waiting for? Go go go!

Alrighty. That up there then, was my response to the ridiculous shit that was being spouted by some of my macho rap brethren and their tragic pals in my Twitter timeline earlier, in the wake of Frank Ocean's Tumblr post that described a romance he had with a fellow a few Summers ago. That Louis Vitton garbed perma-scowling balls of confusion still roam the Earth is sad, but the larger reaction, "mostly shitloads of people saying they couldn't care less in textspeak," as The Telegraph's Catherine Gee told me on Twitter, was more encouraging. "I like living in an age where Frank Ocean comes out and people everywhere don't give a shit, loudly, in text spk," said my similarly broadsheet-employed friend Sophie. "I LOVE LIVING IN THE (ODD) FUTURE," I concurred.

Shout out the future. I've Been watching a lot of Only Fools And Horses lately. The 80s was a completely different world in some respects. A lot has changed... for the better and the worse. Here's to the next shift. May our kids learn from our ignorance.

Speaking of which, I just got back from outting a shelf up for Jeres, who hd no idea how to do suhc a thing. "I've never even seen anyone put a shelf up," he admitted. Jeres is in his mid thirties. It is mental. Here we are, with the new shelf. Jeres got it to put a monitior on. "It's not a telly!" he assured me. "It's just for watching DVDs."

Well that's OK then.

Hey, here's my new vlog, it's going to be on Huffington Post on Friday, with a full text version accompanying it. SCREW YOUR TRELLIS SPIDER-MAN SONY! YOU ASSHOLES!

Who Stole Kurt's Ashes?

The News Of The World has reported that Kurt Cobain's ashes have been stolen from his widow Courtney Love's home. NME writes, "The ashes were said to have been kept in a "pink teddy bear-shaped bag along with a lock of his hair" and were taken with some jewelery and clothes."

"I can't believe anyone would take Kurt's ashes from me," remarked Love. "I find it disgusting and right now I'm suicidal. If I don't get them back I don't know what I'll do. They were all I had left of my husband. I used to take them everywhere with me just so I could feel Kurt was still with me. Now it feels like I have lost him all over again."


Who would do such a thing?

It'd have to be someone who knows Courtney well enough to know she's got a pink teddy bear shaped bag stuffled with ashes of a dead rock star. Unless it was a hapless burglar who nicked the ashes inadvertently whist boosting the aforementioned "jewelery and clothes". But I doubt it. Who burgles a rock stars wife and only robs "jewelery and clothes"? Well, burglars lacking strength, perhaps. But its unlikely. If you ask me, the most likely culprit is:

Courtney herself.

She is, after all, batshit crazy.

I mean, if you believe Krist Novoselic (and a shit load of other people) Courtney was crazy enough to have the gardener bump Kurt off for her way back in '94. 14 years later she's surely crazy enough to steal his ashes and go crying to the newspapers about it. When was the last time anyone gave too much of a shit about her lunatic ass? That time she tried to boff one of The Strokes? That time she got plastic surgery that made her look like every other dummy in LA? That time she rolled about on the Kings Road with no clothes on for that Q cover? Blah? Blah? Blah?

I used to be terribly angry when people slagged off Courtney Love, considering it evidence of a male dominated, woman-hating music industry and populace in general. I figured Live Through This was a brillaint record, and people were jealous and mean.

But a lot of things have happened over the years to make me, reluctantly, change my tune. There are a great many tales I could tell you (like the time a very good female friend of mine went back to The Columbia Hotel with Love after Trash and narrowly escaped from the ensuing drysexdrugs "you are all my groupies you fucks" wannabe Zepplin party fuckery with her left tit intact), but now is not the time or the place for that sort of thing.

Nah, now is a time to forget all that crap and listen to this awesome song.

Stream: Hole - Miss World

Boy oh boy I forgot how awesome this shit was...


So I fell alseep on the sofa after 5, and was awakened gently by Super Phil at 6:20, and it transpired Bird left my bag with my passport in it at the venue last night. But Bird's got me another ID card, so we're outside waiting for Jeff to pick us up at 6:30. And at midday we're in LA, and soon after that we're in Interscope's offices,and I'm filling a bag with Nirvana, Guns N Roses, Gilbert And Sullivan, Dre, Peter Gabriel, Police and other such back catalogue. Jimmy Iovine has a signed letter from Tupac and a video console that won't switch on. And loads of ideas. A balcony. A lush view. LA is lush to look at, from these places of advantage. Like, later we visit Jeff and Trent's, and there's this fucking alien cat that loves me, and an incredible, incredible view, of this desolate wilderness spattered with money.

It was a lovely day.

But in the nighttime it is hard not to see that LA is awash with cunts. It is a sad and massive amount of cunts, and I am not sure whether it is sad because this is what the world did to them, or because this is what they do to the world, or because they are cunts, and you can see their faces rotting right in front of your eyes.