by Ryan Stewart

Over the next few months, Hollywood’s hottest writer, Diablo Cody, will see her second and third scripts rushed into development. One of those, Girly Style, is a girl’s version of Superbad. The other is a horror film called Jennifer’s Body, starring Transformers’ Megan Fox, and it’s about – wait for it – a cheerleader that eats boys. Literally. If you want to know what kind of mind could come up with such a thing, a good place to start is with Cody’s 2005 memoir Candy Girl, which chronicles her unlikely journey from teenage miscreant in a punk band called Yak Spackle to achingly ordinary office drone to topless dancer (she went by Roxanne and other names) to popular blogger to aspiring screenwriter in her late twenties.

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by Sash Suicide

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by SG’s Team Agony feat. Shotgun, Yesenia and Perdita

Let us answer life’s questions – because great advice is even better when it comes from SuicideGirls.

Q: My husband and I have been together for five years and married for one. When we first met the sex was amazing and now it feels like he is just performing maintenance on a damn car. I have brought it to his attention and he hasn’t done anything about it, and lately I’ve noticed my eye wondering. I don’t want to ruin my marriage, but I need the passion back and I feel like he’s forcing me to look elsewhere for it. What should I do? Please help.

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by Brad Warner

My friend John Graves sent me a photo of a billboard that’s been appearing all over Los Angeles. The one he took a picture of was right near The Grove, in one of the highest rent districts in one of the highest rent cities in the whole world. The billboard says: “The Bible Guarantees Judgment Day May 21, 2011, …Cry mightily unto God – Jonah 3:8, Mon-Fri 5:30 – 7PM, 1280 AM Radio FamilyRadio.” Next to these words is a photo of a guy who is either kneeling to pray or in the throes of a painful bout of constipation.

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by Erin Broadley

“I’’m ready to fight and I’’m ready to sing.”
– Pearl Aday

It’s a cool Los Angeles night at the Standard Hotel and the scantily clad girl in the Plexiglas cage above the concierge desk is nodding off… but then again, Monday’s are always a little slow. A drifter ambles past the front entrance, down the sidewalk, mouthing along to whatever voice rattles through his head. Meanwhile rock singer Pearl Aday and I are holed up in a booth in the hotel’s the street-side diner. As she drinks tea and I sip merlot, we talk about the current state of music, more specifically women in rock-n-roll, and Pearl is pissed off.

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by Aaron Colter

The first time I saw Che Smith was in the basement of the Purdue Student Union in West Lafayette, Indiana. The Malcontents, a local ska band, were playing a free show in the student center on what was hopefully a weekend night, given the amount of substances I consumed. That evening, while The Malcontents were jamming out a reggae-vibe number called “We Make Profits,” and I was three-quarters into a bottle of Captain Morgan, someone started free-styling over the song – Rhymefest.

Despite starting the night in the basement of a Purdue building and waking up some sixty miles away at Butler University, I remember that song. It was, and remains, one of the single greatest live music moments in my life. But the reason I’m writing about Rhymefest, or rather Che Smith, isn’t because of his music, it’s because Che Smith is running for Alderman of Chicago’s 20th Ward.

Most of the media has defined Che Smith as a childhood friend of Kayne West, a Grammy-winner for “Jesus Walks With Me,” and the winner of a hip-hop battle with Eminem. All of these things are true, but that’s not the entire story.

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by Brandon Perkins

In the previous installments of our futuristic fiction series, Please Use Rear Exit, Mikhail, who recently x-ed his GF (Katya), ventures out for his first major post-break up night on the tiles with the boys. Meanwhile, Katya is similarly “enjoying” a night out with the girls. However, though the no-longer happy couple are experiencing separate but parallel nights out, they exist in the same universe, so there’s a chance their worlds will collide at some point. Unfortunately for Mikhail, the collision comes just as he strikes up a promising conversation at the bar with an intriguing female called Bridget.

Katya peaked around Jayson and smiled bashfully before striking a weird pose in some joke of a gesture. Whether it was intuition or the knowledge that he had ignored all those calls after breaking her heart or that Katya was just that transparent, Mikhail didn’t know, but he certainly knew that his ex was fucking furious. Her surprise and subsequent movements were aggressive, even as anyone else would probably perceive them as playful…Katya was livid.

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