America Today …. Rather different planet one could say between someone like a grandparent much less a parent grew up vs a post generation Y* kid has ….

At the very least Music cultivates a fan following and  stamps a  time period in the world. Ba Da Da Da dummm… skreeeettttchhhhh bang bang – for rave rats or house music hunnies these beats are BANGiN’ and BUMP’d ALL DaY & ALL NiGHT Long. SkriLLex has become a house hold name, holding one of the Top Ten DJ spots worldwide  – a man is simply known for his whacky hair style having long locks with a partial chunk taken out above his ear – is this to hear better out of headphones? i do not see the appeal but to each his own.

The word Mozart may not ring a bell in kids born after the year 2000 – where on the other side of the spectrum they could sing symphony 40 in their sleep !!

 

The clash of cultures lie below in a gimic of whats good in the world today …

http://elitedaily.com/elite/epic-rap-battle-mozart-vs-skrillex-video/

 

* Generation Y denotes people born from the years of 1980 – 2000 aka the ME ME ME generation quoted by Time Magazine May 2013.

Elektricy Niteclub in downtown pontiac !! the dudes of DADA LiFE got the crowed bumping and grinding. Everyone was going B-A-N-A-N-A-S !! with blow up champagne and bananas boppin’ around the club.

this snippit is taken from an interview with Stefan Engblom and Olle Corneér – aka Dada Life

“Okay, so why bananas and champagne?
Taste-wise, they are actually terrible together. It came from us needing energy when we’re DJing. We always had them on the rider — bananas for potassium to keep us going, and champagne for keeping your head bubbly. It’s the perfect combination. You can’t have an apple in a club — it’ll get slippery and gross — but a banana is perfect because you open it up and it’s all fresh inside. It’s impossible to eat a sandwich in a club because it would get so dirty. Clubs are the grimiest places on earth.”

 

 

It’s that time of the year – where people are about to bounce out of AA – some for a few months and some forever … well until TAiLGATE season pops back up! Make sure you get it all in  good and gravy … !

Vintage Bucket List via 2010

Take a final exam without studying

Drink a Sharkbowl at Rick’s … by yourself

Jump up and down with the Maize Rage

Hippie Hash at Fleetwood Diner

Spend way too much on a meal at Zingerman’s and enjoy every bite

Get in trouble with the Department of Public Safety

Check out one of the obscure performances at Hill Auditorium

Visit the Kerrytown Farmer’s Market

Attend a small-sport competition

Main Street bar crawl, grown-up style

Watch the annual Mudbowl game

Finally learn how to do your own laundry

Graffiti your inner angst on a bathroom stall

Spend quality time with a professor

Get ridiculed for not knowing how to order at Blimpy Burger

Eat a buritto while riding the BTB bus

Get down and dirty in the Stacks

Spend a decent amount of time on North Campus

Drunkenly forget your football ticket and go home, only to pass out instead

Sneak into the Big House after hours

Throw a toga party a la “Animal House”

Sneak an entire set of utensils out of a University cafeteria

Sneeze — LOUDLY — in the Law Library

Partake in traditional Hash Bash festivities

Eat soup from Le Dog at Le Dog

Attend a Game at Yost Ice Arena

Go to an away game, get booed by opposing fans

Overdraft your bank account

Shamelessly hit on a Michigan athlete

Drink only keg beer at a frat party to get drunk

Go streaking through the Diag

Men’s Glee Club Concert

Paint the Rock, then defend it with your life

Sit in on a class you’re not actually registered for

Knock on Mary Sue Coleman’s door

Smoke a joint, get high in the Arb

Attend a midnight movie at the State Street Theater

Play on an intramural sports team

Toss it back to BarSHAWLona 2011… This short piece is a lil sum sum  i wrote up for my Photojournalism final – until i realized that all my final really required was 5-8 pictures on a power point – in a scurry post Vouge’n with my main squeez Maddy-Mo this is what i had come up with ! S/O to my barca betches !! and the four months that we treated our flat like a jungle gymnasium – living above a nightclub may do that to ya…..!

 

“

Tribe Astoria

One by one five mustard yellow taxi cabs perform a kindergarten line up in front of Club Astoria, 193 Carrer de Paris. “Um, excuse me sir, we are trying to find our apartment, not a club” exclaimed Rebecca. Dragging two stuffed full duffle bags each, the girls wheeled their way into the teal and lilac run down building. Little did the group of Kappa Kappa Gamma sorority sisters know that they would be living above a club for the next four months. The tacky foyer to the building has two port-o-potty sized elevators, how in the world were the ten over packed duffle bags going to make it to the fifth floor. The tribe devised a plan, one person would stay put and guard the bags, one person in each port-o-potty elevator to shelp the bags up and down, one bag girl to move the bags to the elevator, and one at the entrance of our festive new apartment to receive the duffels.  Five bags were successfully unloaded before Liza’s shrills awoke the entire apartment building. This began Liza’s forty-five minute adventure bobbing back and forth between floors four and five.  There was no maintenance man or bellhop to come get Liza out of the elevator. The tribe’s first instinct was to “flip” Liza being stuck in the elevator. The footage would commemorate our “meet and greet” with the neighbors. The staircase was flooded with Catalan couples of all ages. Side tracked from rescuing Liza, the tribe explained to the neighbors that they were study abroad students from the University of Michigan, who were going to be living in apartment 5’2 for the next four months. An elderly man, Enrique was able to bring the elevator to floor five. A man with no visible muscles pried the elevator doors open, setting Liza and a 70 lb duffle bag free. Swearing to never ride in the left elevator again, the tribe switched ups the roles of the plan.

Once the tribe completed the mission of getting the duffle bags into the apartment, their appetites were ravenous. The tribe hit the streets and made it about 20 feet before plopping themselves outside of Bar Paris. Shinning silver tables with bright red chairs lined the corner of C/Paris and Aribau. Awaiting our server, our mouths began to drool as the people seated two tables down were receiving their bocadillos and tapas. The server brought menus and an ashtray to the table. None of the tribe would ever be caught smoking cigarettes, no matter what the circumstance was. Glancing at the menu the tribe recognized a few items, patatas braves, Spanish omelette and hamburgesas. It was predetermined that the “Burger me Barcelona” tour would begin here for Lindsey. Post placing the orders for the first official Barca meal, the tribe’s day in Barcelona was filled with yet another surprise. With no shame, the hairy hippy man seated at the table next to the tribe sparked up a joint. Pungent aromas of Barcelona Bud filled the air; Madeline questioned “what? People can just smoke pot on the streets?” apparently you can. The tribe instantly became distracted and amazed by the fact that no one was stopping the man casually smoking next to them. One hot plate at a time, the dishes came out, much smaller than expected. The hamburger looked comparable to one from Mcdonalds, thin and greesy. Lindsey was debating ordering a second hamburger that was before she took a bite of the funky unidentifiable meat patty. She debated ending the “Burger me Barcelona” tour right then and there. The rest of the tribe laughed as they dug into their “safe” meals of potatoes and eggs.”