I’ve always been of the opinion that the McGriddle is the unhealthiest thing known to man, beating out the previous champion “Asbestos-laced Pork Lard Covered In Hollandaise Sauce” immediately upon its debut in 2003. Sure, Burger King made a valiant effort to seize the crown of artery-clogging calorie king by introducing the Meatnormous Omelet Sandwich, but not even meat on top of meat on top of meat covered in cheese was enough to budge the syrup-soaked McGriddle from its meaty perch.

Little did I know that for centuries, our friends across the pond have been enjoying a tasty treat that makes the McGriddle look like a house salad - The Scotch Egg. Thank god that Barry from The Futureheads’ turned me on to this belly bomber, or everything I thought I knew about nutrition would still be a lie.

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By the way, if you’re wondering just what a Scotch Egg looks like, take a gander:

Jesus! Those Brits don’t fuck around, man. As if greasy sausage meat wrapped around a boiled egg weren’t unhealthy enough, they had to go and DEEP FRY the fucker just for good measure. I bet the guy who invented this
a) Died of cardiac arrest
b) Is kicking himself in the ass for not having the insight to cover this in gravy

What boggles my mind is that Barry admits to eating eating all the time, yet look at him, he’s the picture of health! How does he stay so svelt eating deep-fried sausage coated eggs? I must get his personal trainer’s phone number!

The Futureheads on nutrition: “Every time I go past a supermarket when I’m at home in Glasgow, I can’t help but go in and buy two Scotch eggs and eat them straight away…A Scotch egg is a boiled egg that’s wrapped in sausage meat, and then that’s wrapped in bread crumbs and then it’s deep fried.”

Bad Veins on food politics: “Was it Newsweek that had a little arugula vs. like a pint of beer or something? And arugula is supposed to represent elitism and college degrees and beer is the working man like what everybody wants. Somebody actually insulted Obama by saying he has arugula in his belly. Like ‘Oh no! He ate a vegetable!’”

Genji Siraisi on punk in New York: “It was kind of like the end of the real hardcore, real punk scene in New York. And this guy was washing his armpits out with beer and then he was getting on the stage - I don’t know if you remember the stage at CB’s but it was filthy - and then someone took a toothbrush and they were brushing their teeth with the beer off stage.”

Islands on Canada: “It’s good because there’s a grant system in place where you can apply for grants and get a bit of cash for touring, and for being Canadian essentially…and it all stems from a low self-esteem and a feeling of inferiority to America.”

Annuals on body art: “Me and Mike have bro tats. He has a glass of lava and I have a glass of water. When they blend together they make rock.”

In Flight Radio on television: “I was talking to some five-year-olds who knew that I was a musician and they told me that I should compete with this other musician guy that they knew…They have only been alive since American Idol has been around so they think that music is a big competition.”

Cadillac Sky on flashers: “A lot of audiences at bluegrass festivals that are going to flash you, they have to pick their skirt up. Those breasts have fallen that far.”

Passenger on guilty pleasures: “I love power ballads. You knonw the sort of disgusting, massive permed hair. Wind machines. Songs about highways and hearts.”

I’ve never been flashed at a bluegrass festival before. Hell, I’ve never even been to a bluegrass festival in my life. But I do know boobies - after all, I have seen quite a few pair in front of my face during my 27 years of being (11 but really who’s counting?) So take heed, Cadillac Sky, when a woman offers to flash her breasts at you, no matter where you are - on stage, driving down I-95, at a baptism, or an AA meeting - you don’t even think about saying no:

Sure, they may not be the nicest breasts in the world, especially considering your surroundings. They might even be deck swabbers, looking deceptively plump and round in a dress, but falling victim to gravity once the support bra is lifted. Whatever the case, you say yes, because odds are, there’s more than one serial titty flasher in the crowd, and one brave trailblazing gal showing her tatas will often draw more out of the woodwork, and you’ll eventually find yourself a nice pair that you can proudly salute like a tattered Old Glory on a flagpole. It’s all about playing the odds, my friends.

You know how they say that sometimes inspiration comes out of left field? Well in this case, inspiration came the fuck out of the parking lot next to the left field bleachers, because I would never expect 90’s indie queen Juliana Hatfield to be inspired by Henry Rollins of all people:

Ok, maybe that wasn’t the best video clip to use. Henry’s actually a pretty articulate, intelligent speaker, when he isn’t half naked, covered in red paint screaming “I’M A LIAR!!”. But still, isn’t it kind of weird imagining a calm, solemn Juliana Hatfield and a raging, impassioned, about-to-rip-off-a-child’s-head Henry Rollins in the same room together, getting along?

I’ve never actually read any of Henry’s books, but I hear they’re well-written and pretty damn interesting, which is a far cry from what I picture them to be whenever I watch that Liar video:

Me Henry Rollins. RAWR! Me Angry! Me Hungry! Kill Pterodactyl With Forearms Then Dance In His Blood. Me Have Big Muscles. Play In Band Music. RAWR!

All kidding aside, I love ya Henry. Please don’t kill me.

Good news Brendan James, I hear from my legions of screaming teenage girl fans (stop breaking into my bathroom while I shower!) that New Kids On The Block have actually reunited for some ungodly reason (I hear Satan lost a bet), and actually have a new album coming out in a few weeks. And you know what that means, don’t ya? Yes, perhaps the impending apocalypse is far closer than any of us could have imagined, but also - they’re going back on tour! And we here at Uncensored Interview (by which I mean ME) are offering to buy you a ticket to one of their upcoming shows, free of charge. There’s just three catches:

1. You have to stay for the entire show
2. You have to wear one of those ridiculous NKOTB Shirts from the 80’s.
3. You have to bring your sister’s hot friends for The Shark, who will be standing right next to you, pretending not to mouth the words to Hangin’ Tough

Call me Brendan, you’ve got my number.

I really feel for Camila from Uh Huh Her. It must be the scariest feeling in the world, being on stage rocking a huge crowd that’s singing along with your every word, when all of a sudden, your bladder decides to make itself known and you have to tinkle in the worst way. What do you do? Do you try and hold it, torturing yourself through each song for the next hour? Do you raise your hand and ask to be excused for 5 minutes, assuming that the crowd would be OK with 5 less minutes of rocking tonight? Or do you pull a Fergie and piss all over yourself, in the hopes that your fans are also R. Kelly fans?

Well thanks to my ingenuity and the help of the good people at Depend undergarments, rockers no longer have to worry about what happens when the yellow river breaks on stage. Introducing Depend For Rockers:

The official undergarment of rock & roll, these badass poop and urine catchers are specifically designed with today’s artist in mind - a slim fit that won’t show through your tight jeans, double absorption protection for those Springsteen-esque 3 hour concerts, and a handy coke pocket*. Don’t let urine get in the way of your and your music. Slap on a Depend For Rockers, the only undergarment that goes all the way up to 11

Depend does not encourage the use of illegal drugs such as cocaine, heroin, or marijuana. But we certainly don’t NOT encourage them either.

Juliana Hatfield on rock goddesses: “Why aren’t there more female guitar heroes? Why aren’t there more female guitar innovators?”

Ra Ra Riot on guns: “Every six minutes someone gets shot. That’s a Marc Jacobs ad I saw in the city.”

Uh Huh Her on the music business: “I was a terrible business person…I’m more the artist than the fat, cigar-smoking CEO.”

The Morning Benders on how they met: “We were all working at Disneyland for one reason or another. We were all at Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride…It seemed like after that wasn’t there, there was no point to really stick around because it was a dead scene, you know. So we started a band.”

Brendan James on resourcefulness: “I thought, ‘Where are the pianos in New York City? I gotta find these pianos.’ And they were in ballrooms. So I would sneak in, I would dress up, I would try to be in a little bit of a disguise depending on the hotel.”

Artanker Convoy on preshow moisturizing: “I tend to powder my chafing areas and general hand lubrication for all of us. We have a vat.”

Mike Edison on climbing the corporate ladder: “We met at Gleason’s gym at midnight and I squashed the motherfucker with my heart punch. And the next day I moved into his office on the 82nd floor of the Empire State Building. I was 24 years old. And that’s how careers are built.”

Hey Ra Ra Riot, speaking of jubilant, celebratory music it has come to my ATTENTION that due to the nightly coverage of The Olympics I have heard The Star Spangled Banner in full on a daily basis for the past two weeks.  The other night when my boyfriend was in town after not seeing each other for 3 weeks we were hanging out, drinking some wine, and watching the Olympics on TV.  One thing led to another, the next thing I know Michael Phelps is being awarded yet another gold medal and ThePerryTrain is playing ‘hide the carpetshark‘ to the jubilant and celebratory melody of the American National Anthem.  There was no way to pretend that we didn’t hear it and decided to just acknowledge it.  My boyfriend claimed it was the most patriotic thing he’d ever done, but I’m not sure it’s so patriotic seeing as I’m Canadian.  

America has long had a love affair with Swedish imports - pastries, massages, hot flight attendants, those chewy red fish. Well we can add one more name to that honorable list - the lovely Lykke Li, care of Stockholm. Her record Youth Novels has been a big hit in UK for months, and as of today, it’s finally available in the States. Geez, Fed Ex International takes a while, doesn’t it? Overnight my ass!

And here’s Lykke on why she decided to call her album Youth Novels (and no, it has nothing to do with Ramona or Fudge):

Lykke’s one of the few Swedes actually making a name for herself right now - did you know that Sweden’s only won 3 friggin medals so far in the Olympics? 3!! That’s roughly 1/3rd of what Michael Phelps has won so far. And to make matters worse, all of Sweden’s medals have been silver. I think they actually give you a silver medal just for showing up too, so things ain’t looking so good for the Swedes in Beijing. Hopefully they can pick up some steam and maybe a gold in their keystone event - the 100m massage. Go Sweden!

With the exception of Lewis Black and the late, great George Carlin, I don’t think anyone expresses righteous indignation as eloquently as former High Times publisher, musician, and author Mike Edison:

If you slow down the clip and watch carefully, you can see actual steam blowing out of Mike’s ears. It’s a trick he learned while publishing High Times magazine.

Mike just released his memoir (with quite possibly the longest title this side of a Fiona Apple album) I Have Fun Everywhere I Go: Savage Tales of Pot, Porn, Punk Rock, Pro Wrestling, Talking Apes, Evil Bosses, Dirty Blues, American Heroes, and the Most Notorious Magazines in the World, and the title pretty much speaks for itself. I’ll be honest with you, I’m not into the whole pot-smoking/cocaine thing. I only abuse FDA approved prescription drugs. And sleazy magazines found their way out from under my bed into the trash once high speed internet came to my neighborhood, so I’m not too well versed on Mike’s old gigs at High Times and Screw magazines. But I once was a fanatical pro-wrestling fan (this was before I discovered sex), and the fact that Mike not only wrote for Wrestling’s Main Event magazine, but also once challenged his managing editor to a brawl for his job is pretty fucking awesome. Also astounding - he was good friends with the legendary GG Allin, and is somehow still alive with all of his limbs. All of that adds up to a shitload of street cred, if you ask me.