Hello. Hi.
2015 was a year in which I wrote things. The majority of my words went towards Noisey, a site where I am employed full-time. I got a lot done, I think.
I talked to two guys who watched Grown Ups 2 until they went insane, a 75-year-old grandma who goes to Burning Man, the dude who played a flame-throwing guitar in Mad Max, the secret service, someone who studied ecstasy, a nudist, my IT guy, myself, the only person ever to nail the “smoke weed every day” like from that Dr. Dre song, the creator of Rick and Morty, Desaparecidos, Hop Along, Modern Baseball, and The Dirty Nil. I reviewed a movie I couldn’t hear, penned an open letter to someone who robbed me, looked back on major label debuts, eulogized The Weakerthans, said a few words about Teenage Bottlerocket, wondered what it would be like if there were other bands besides Nirvana, critiqued Drake’s workout routine, watched porn with Fat Mike, got Zach Braff mad at me, judged a PornHub panel with T-Pain, and did a bunch of other things which make the googling of my name a surefire disqualification from me ever getting a normal job.
I’ve also been working on some bigger, longer projects for publication in 2016 that are so outrageously humbling that I am often overwhelmed by how lucky I am to get to write words for a living. Anyway, out of the rambling pile of trash that poured out of my brain this year, below are my most favorite things I wrote (that I can remember). If you have ever read any of this, I am truly thankful for the support. Let’s hang out some time, yeah? Oh, and here is the music I listened to this year.
Thirteen Fish
To get the emotional personal stuff out of the way so that I can go back to being Mr. Irony Man, I lost my grandmother and her sister in the same week this April. I spent three weeks writing this story about it as a Mother’s Day gift for my mom. She read it, she cried, and she said, “You had to do that to me today, Dan?” Even though it was intended for an audience of one, I ended up getting all kinds of nice words from both friends and strangers, which made the grieving go down easier. A British newspaper even ended up paying me money to run it. I asked my mother if she wanted the money and she said no. Then my Sicilian uncle read it and told me I should be a writer. Maybe one day.
Refused: Pop Songs for the Revolution
I was never sure how to feel about Refused. On the one hand, I get the whole anti-capitalism hypocrisy charges against them. On the other, if someone offered me half a million dollars to play songs I wrote when I was a teenager, you can bet your sweet B-hole I’d be on that stage at Coachella too. I spent a week with them on the West Coast in their huge tour bus and it turns out, they’re just a bunch of normal, nice guys. This was a cover story that I hope humanized the Swedish anarchists a bit. It’s also pretty long and there are moving pictures and it’s missing a quotation mark which drives me fucking nuts. I wake up sweating sometimes thinking about it.
In Dillinger Four We Trust
Conversely, I’ve always known exactly how I’ve felt about Dillinger Four: that they are the greatest fucking band in the world. I like writing about people who don’t want to be written about, so I’ve always wanted to cover two artists: Tim Barry of Avail (which I did last year) and Dillinger Four. Now I’ve done both and my life is empty and without purpose please help me.
I Went on a Date with Everyone’s Crush, Natalie Imbruglia
Noisey has this series called First Dates that’s really popular. Essentially, we ask artists if they’d be down to go on a mock date, and, if they are cool with it, we embarrass ourselves romantically in front of them. Being a child of the 90s, the only pop star I’ve ever really had a crush on is Natalie Imbruglia. She and I went on a very adorable fake date in Manhattan and I wrote it up in this slightly exaggerated version of my awkward self. It’s also a bit of an exploration of the idea of coming to terms with pop stars we are conditioned to crush on. The reaction to this article was weird and unexpected in that it’s the one people always want to ask me about. Apparently many men and women also share a longtime crush on Natalie Imbruglia. I even got a few emails asking me out on dates which was… flattering but very surreal. But anyway, people liked it, Natalie liked it, I liked it. I have a photostrip of the two of us, as does she. I keep mine in a desk drawer. Whenever I open it, I see it and smile a dumb grin. Maybe she does too. Probably not though.
Fan Fiction: A Day in the Life of Martin Shkreli
One thing I learned about myself this year is that I possess the ability to write a complete, 1,500-word piece of fan fiction in under three hours. Who knows what I’ll discover next year. Life is an exciting thing.
I Tried to Sell Air from Williamsburg, Brooklyn on eBay for $20,000
I am a big advocate of what I call troll journalism, in which you throw a wrench into something and then sit back and see what havoc it wreaks, much like Walter Cronkite often did. Over the summer, I sold a Ziploc bag of air from noted dipshit haven, Williamsburg, Brooklyn. The first thing that happened was that the bidding shot up to $20,000. The next thing was that blogs started writing about how ridiculous that was. Then it was on the goddamn news. And lastly, I got banned from eBay. So, to answer my own question, that’s what happens when you try to sell air on eBay, just FYI.
Ten Years Ago, Comedy Central Took a Chance on Stella, the Dryhumping, Dildo-Sucking Comedy Trio
We did a thing called 2005 Week, where we looked back on all the pop culture, both good and bad, from a decade ago. I wrote about Stella, the Michael Ian Black/Michael Showalter/David Wain comedy troupe that I was obsessed with. In 2005, Comedy Central took a chance on Stella for one season. It didn’t last as a TV show, but what a weird, wonderful time it was. This isn’t the most insightful thing I’ve ever written, but I got to watch TV and write about dildos while getting paid for it, and isn’t that the dream?
50 Things That Are Definitely, 100 Percent Confirmed PUNK
Sometimes I have these really stupid ideas and my coworkers are sweet enough to humor me. I had this one which made absolutely no sense and still doesn’t, where it was basically one of those clicky internet lists of punk things, but written by an alien who took a punk class at Mars University. He gets everything right, but there’s something off about it. It is so, so, so stupid and I love it.
Donald Trump Is the President America Deserves
Hey look at me pretending to understand politics! I half-started to pitch this around to outlets but then said, “Eh, fuck it, I’ll just post it on Medium.” I did, and hooooly shit a lot of people read it. Medium is a-ok in my book.
That’s it. Thanks for reading. See you next year.
