HALLOWIENER

Few of you will remember the first A New Low video revealed to the public. It was a short compilation of late-October mischief, pranks, gross-out gags, and gratuitous nudity we called HALLOWIENER. We premiered it at a Halloween party in Horseheads, NY on October 26th, 2002—a party made legendary by Tony Shaddock and his brilliant costume: a half-mask, a bowtie, and nothing else.TonyEricWil-102602b HALLOWIENER was later spruced up and became part of A New Low 2, which was shown to a capacity crowd at The Haunt in Ithaca, NY on December 20th, 2006. The bit made its third public showing alongside the premiere of Son of a Bitch: Part II, also at The Haunt in Ithaca, this time on October 15th, 2010.

Since tradition seems to land HALLOWIENER in the public eye once every four years…and given it’s been four years since its last appearance…it only made sense to finally give it a long overdue residency on the internet—and just in time for Halloween.

So, make sure your parents/employers/children/stuffed animals aren’t paying attention…because if the MPAA ever sat down n’ stroked their shafts to this li’l gem, they’d agree (halfway through a satisfying group orgasm) that it deserves a solid R rating.

Happy Hallowiener!

Yetti vs Taem

The warmth of a friend’s vomit brings joy to our hearts, sunlight to our souls, bile to our crotches, and pleasure to all of life.

Be sure to snatch up a Yetti vs Taem sticker and a copy of our AN’L Lies DVD! Awooga!

Yetti vs Taem A NEW LOW shirts are now available as well!

YettiVsTaemShirts

Taking Pity on the Second City: Our Trip to Chicago

Whipple_StScreeching Weasel and Alkaline Trio, my two all-time favorite midwestern bands, sharing a stage on their home turf of Chicago, Illinois…and it happens to fall on Tony Shaddock’s birthday. Clearly, this event was constructed from the ground up with us in mind. After ordering five tickets, only three of which were claimed, Tony, Yetti and I set off on an epic pilgrimage, one that would reunite us with old pal, Doug “L’il Fart” McLaren…and change the course of history forever.

The astonishing photography and masterfullly composed captions and anecdotes herein chronicle our expedition.

Now let’s enjoy the Miami of Canada—Chicago!

October 10th
10:23 am

On a spiritual journey to the Windy City with Yetti & Tony Shaddock.

10:58 am
Three guys in a car…and I’m breathin’ on Easy Street? Someone needs to spark up this roadtrip with a wet hot fart.

11:18 am
“You boys ain’t from around here…you have no business o’er at Joncy gorge. Take yer city haircuts n’ go on, git!”
Joncy_Gorge

1:18 pm
Sleeping like a baby…particularly one of the dead babies in that sack he’s resting his head on.
Sack_of_Dead_Babies

5:46 pm
Who goes over my travel route before every roadtrip & makes sure to redirect me on a Dunkin Donutsless path? Whoever you are, go get raped.

8:23 pm
We crossed time zones unscathed. Hey, 7 o’clock, we have a second chance together…try not to fuck it up this time.

9:39 pm
Chicago arrival. First on the agenda? SUH FUCKEN REAL DEEP DISH CHICAGUH PIZZUH.

11:21 pm
Sippin’ on a 312 Urban Wheat Ale at some Korean dive bar. L’il Fart ordered a “hot sucky” and all he got was some lousy drink in a ceramic flask. If Asian fellatio is this hard to come by (pun intended, LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!) in the Big Onion, I’m not impressed. On the bright side—according to this coaster, my Survival Kit is almost half completed…
Bar_Coaster
Two down, three to go. Baby just needs a new pair of shoes, a designer purse…and flashin’ my juicy tits for some fancy beads should be easy enough in this toddlin’ town. Bring on the night!

October 11th
Happy birthday, baby Shaddock.
Baby_Shaddock

1:51 am
My heart’s telling me this is a Rum n’ Coke in my hand, but my brain’s telling me it’s Roofies n’ NyQuil. I need to flee this crowded bar and get some shut-eye. I know the risk of walking these streets at night with only two-fifths of my Survival Kit…but I simply cannot go on. No rest for the wicked. Mr. McLaren, gimme a firm floor to sleep on.

12:02 pm
Good morning, city cats.
City_Cats

12:28 pm
Not even birthday songs or burger crowns will wake this tiny dancer.
Tiny_Dancer

2:10 pm
May I wax philosophical for a moment?

When you’re soaking your meat bone shaft-deep in some poon tang, you’re in a quaint village of physical pleasure the guys and I like to call “Tangtown.”

Likewise, if you and a buddy are forming a “wobbly H” with a gal, you know, having a little ménage à trois, or, in laymen’s terms, tag-teaming the ol’ broad…I’ve just determined that must be a suburb of Tangtown called “Tagtown.”

Now, it all sounds well and fine…however, after pondering this for a while over my morning coffee, I’ve uncovered a paradox.

If “Tagtown” is basically “Tangtown” with an additional person…you gain a friend, yet lose the “n”…

Is it really worth it?

7:24 pm
After standing out in the cold for roughly an hour, desperately asking every passerby: “tickets?” or, when I was feeling articulate: “do you need tickets?”—I finally sold my extra. I lost $10 on it and missed who-knows how many bands while I was out here. Fuck you, Horseheads bums, for not taking it off my hands. “Whoa, ETC…chillax, bro. You know how much I hate awesomeness. Hey, when you get back, can you help me build a shelter incase the Soviets attack the U.S. with rainbow-colored FUN Bombs?”

8:00 pm
A secret Teenage Bottlerocket gig after the show tonight? Free entry? Busing provided? Don’t mind if I do.

8:16 pm
Dude shitting in stall with no door. Tons of dudes walking by. Pants off. T.p. rolled away from him at one point.
Shit_Guy

8:45 pm
I have waited 14 years for this moment. I’m watching Screeching Weasel. In Chicago. I rule.
Screeching_Weasel_setlist_101109

10:22 pm
Now I’m watching Alkaline Trio. In Chicago. I’m back to rule again.

No idea what time it is.
I’m actually writing this portion in retrospect, because the battery in my phone died shortly after Alkaline Trio finished their set. This is a blessing in disguise, of course, because at this level of intoxication, I’m liable to drop, throw or trade my iPhone for a cigarette.

Waiting for a shuttle bus to take us across town to the secret Teenage Bottlerocket show.
bus__stop

Speaking of which…if you’re in the Chicago school district and awesome enough to sit in the back of the bus with people of premium-grade superiority…and the seat in front of you has “www.anewlow.net for free pussy” written on it; wreathed with monstrous, cum spurting penises both uncircumcised and snipped (we covered all bases)…know your little pockmarked butt cheeks are sharing a seat once warmed by the chiseled asses of your heroes, Tony Shaddock and Eric Thomas Craven.
back_of_the_bus

Teenage Bottlerocket were pretty rad…
Teenage_Bottlerocket

…though, I’ve got to be honest, I want less of this sappy lovey dovey crap and more songs about aliens, zombies and spies. Bring back The Lillingtons.

October 12th (Columbus Day)
Happy Rape, Pillage, Murder and Enslave the Indians day! Fuck you, Chris Columbus.

10:24 am
Interesting postscript to dude shitting in stall with no door:
Shit_Guy2

1:26 pm
The “Zombie”:
Zombie
That’s three shots of espresso, two cups of coffee, steamed milk and whipped cream topped with chocolate and caramel drizzle…I’ll be walkin’ outta here with Shaddock teeth.
ShaddockTeeth

5:27 pm
I got some pussy in Chicago.
Pussy

5:40 pm
Sightseeing in Logan Square.
sightseeing

6:11 pm
The Sears Tower. Chicago, Illinois.
Sears_Tower

6:20 pm
Goodbye, Chicago.
Homeless

7:06 pm
Family reunion in Rolling Prairie, Indiana.‎
Family-Reunion

7:16 pm
Crossed back into good ol’ Eastern Standard Time. 6pm October 12, 2009, it’s a shame we never got to know eachother…

October 13th

2:55 am
Back in New York. Made the 911 call on this l’il number—car in a ditch off the interstate. We were really hoping to see a dead body…but she was fine.
911_call

3:40 am
Yetti got caught pissin’ in public. Amateur. Then allowed them to search his car? Amateur. I’m just glad they didn’t look under my seat. That’s right, I’m bad. Real bad. Michael Jackson.
Cops

5:28 am
Alright, gang, you can rest easy now…we’ve landed back in Horseheads, safe n’ sound.

CubsHowever, before I go and wrap this up, I’d like to address a pretty big concern of mine…

While in Chicago, we hopped a train downtown and went to Millenium Park…only to be told by the officer on duty that the park closes at night.

Rape is already a pretty challenging sport…we don’t need the level of difficulty raised. Are we honestly expected to abduct some broad OUTSIDE the park, sneak her in past security and just use the park grounds for some sort of exotic effect? Parks are good for prowling. The rape itself isn’t performed within the perimeters of a park for atmosphere, but for the convenience of supplying victim(s), isolation, and, in the event that you take things too far, providing a satisfactory plot for interment.

Way to take the fun out of nightlife in the big city, Chicago.

Furthermore, I’ve done some research…and apparently Chicago doesn’t report its statistics for rape. Check out this city crime comparison from 2006.

I’ll tell you why Chicago’s rape statistics aren’t available: NO ONE GETS RAPED IN CHICAGO.

What kind of city has the rape record of a happy suburban cul-de-sac out of the 1950’s with a “neighborhood watch” program ? Not a very good one, I’ll tell you that right now.

Hey Chicago, go get raped.

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Back to the Motor League

Another day, another trip to the Big Apple. This time, however, the objective is leisure…well, if you can really get away with calling high-energy thrash punk “leisure.” The following is my Captain’s Log, as originally posted on Twitter.

March, 12th
12:43 pm

Familiar territory: lack of sleep on I-80 E. Aw yeah. NYC twice in one week. Propagandhi & Paint It Black tonight at the Highline Ballroom!

1:20 pm
Holland Tunnel?? Shit, we gotta piss!

3:02 pm
An Arabic man just saw my dick in Brooklyn. A fine moment in public urination.

5:14 pm
Gotta plug my favorite coffee shop in Manhattan: Fika on 41 W 58th St. It’s fancy, so cross your legs & sip that latte with your pinky up.

5:36 pm
Clogged a toilet at the 5th Ave Apple store with this bad girl…

8:18 pm
If Amanda Blaine doesn’t hurry up and wipe her ass at Asian Bistro, we’re gonna miss the concert.

8:23 pm
Follow-up on Amanda Blaine’s shitting habits: she clogged the Asian Bistro! We’re takin’ over this two-bit town one toilet at a time!

9:38 pm
A stage dive from a large-bodied man bent my pinky back during Paint It Black’s 1st song. Retaliation against my last 8 Bella Morte shows? Karma? Ouch.

10:32 pm
Up front for Propagandhi. Things are “aboot” to get real hairy…

March 13th
12:56 am

Paint It Black were intense. Propagandhi, fucking amazing. They played “Hallie Sallasse, Up Your Ass” & “Anti-Manifesto”?? No way, dude…

1:07 am
Sharing an air mattress with Yetti in Brooklyn. He’s snoring. If he gets any louder, I’m gonna shove four dry fingers up his ass.

10:54 am
10:54 am and I’m still on this air mattress. A good night’s sleep for once? I owe it all to Yetti’s rythmic snoring. Coffee mission!

12:37 pm
Killing two birds with one bathroom.

5:22 pm
“Tourist attraction of the day”
or…
“Hate: Manhattan style”

Yep, that’s true poo.

11:26 pm
I take it back…THIS is the tourist attraction of the day…no, of ALL TIME.

“Man bursts into flames and dies while riding bicycling on NY’s Long Island…”

March 14th
1:48 am

On our way back to Horseheads. We’ve been lost for an hour in North Jersey–the armpit, butthole & syphilis ridden crotch of the East coast.

6:23 am
I’m home. Less than 3 hours before work. Work for 13 hours. I dream of coffee.

This was the most satisfying show I’ve attended in years. It’s a good thing too, because I chose this l’il event over a Morrissey concert. Furthermore, I’ve been meaning to read Hegemony or Survival for awhile now–and something about those angry Canucks inspired me to begin reading it mere hours after they walked off stage.

Check out Propagandhi’s new album, Supporting Caste…it’s a doozie!

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I missed…

Toilet paper should come in rolls of plush, absorbent, flushable gloves…not awkward, difficult-to-maneuver, foldable square sheets. Each finger on T.P. Gloves™ would provide for easy insertion, allowing you to get in there and really dig out any unwanted brown moisture (or unpleasant crust, depending on how long you typically sit on the toilet reading Cosmopolitan with an open hole)…then again, T.P. Mittens™ would offer a unique scooping alternative for those of us with looser anal cavities.

Most importantly, the palm coverage of these revolutionary new products would prevent mishaps (like the one pictured above) from constantly happening to innocent people around the world.

Cal vs Dog Poo

Here’s an old clip from A New Low (which you can now get for a measly $12 by clicking the banner to the right) proving once again–we’re not willing to let a good turd go to waste.

So pour yourself a thick, creamy glass of chocolate milk and enjoy!

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Roommate Dudes

This l’il nugget of shit is the surprise video I unveiled after Bella Morte’s performance at The Haunt in Ithaca, NY two weeks ago. All you out-of-towners that couldn’t make it up to the show (and all you local shitbags that sat around grinding your pud into the carpet instead of going out) can finally see what all the fuss was about. Enjoy…

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proper McDonald’s bathroom etiquette

Here’s a lost clip from one of our many trips to Virginia.

Yes, A New Low…the mark of quality.

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