Cupe

Aeroplane makes a rare appearance on Spinnin’ Deep alongside Purple Disco Machine for what can only be described as a steel drum orgy masquerading as a deep house track. It’s subtle, yet not, as silky basslines caress the steel drum hook, and as far guilty pleasure go – this is OJ Simpson levels guilty. The only thing that’s really holding back is the truly awful artwork – it looks like cornflakes resting on a blood-soaked sponge…. C’MON SPINNIN’ YOU’RE BETTER THAN THIS. The post Aeroplane’s ‘Sambal’ has a steel drum love-in with Purple Disco Machine appeared first on Harder Blogger Faster. Source

There’s nothing worse than that bleak feeling when you realise all the happiness you were spewing out at a festival was borrowed from today. To replenish, science suggests you take vitamin C, rest up and rehydrate. I suggest following this handy guide to getting over your comedown. (Ed note: in addition to the guide below, if you used any sort of stimulant, get your hands on a [couple of] powerful, over-the-counter antioxidants. If it’s available where you are, 5-htp can’t hurt. Most importantly, eat good food, and stay awake from that coworker you hate who didn’t go to Splendour. He’ll definitely say something like, “bet you’re not feeling too great today, ehhhh?” and you’ll want to smash a scolding coffee pot over his head. Masturbate Touching yourself will undoubtedly result in a final, brief, 2-3 second moment where you no longer feel depressed. If you do this consistently through your comedown, that’s at least 15-20 seconds of happiness in a day of darkness. Ask A Friend To Hold You Find a friend who’s also coming down and mutually benefit one another with a cuddle. If you have no friends who are coming down, or just no friends, resort to the next option. Cry This one works best when done in conjunction with the last two. Nothing like a cry-wank in the warm embrace of a friend. If you’re alone, cry-wanking alone is also good. Tears make for good lube. Make Unrealistic Aspirations To Fix Your Life You’ll never take pingers again. You’re going to go to your lectures this semester. You’ll stop bitching about people. You’re going to the gym starting tomorrow. Whatever you need to tell yourself, honey. Watch A Completely Unemotional Movie You may be brought to tears by movies with the slightest inkling of sentiment. If you want to get through a film without tearing up when a main character’s pet guinea pig gets the flu, go for something passive. SpongeBob’s always a good bet. Debrief Tell your friends about all the stupid shit you did last night. Laughter gives the illusion of happiness. Unfortunately when you actually think about the reality of just how bad that minger was last night, your depression will return. Assign Yourself A Comedown Scapegoat Choose someone who really gets on your nerves. This could be someone from the night out who was being annoying, someone who didn’t help clean up in the morning, someone with an irritating voice/face/personality, or even an object. Last month my moist, mouldy, unwashed bath mat was my comedown scapegoat. This person or object is now entirely at fault for your bad mood. It certainly isn’t the fault of all the drugs you ate. Bitch as much as you like about them, feel better about yourself. Puppies Get them in and around your life. Get A Jaw Massager Got romped by the chomp? Loosen up those muscles with a jaw massage. Hopefully within a few hours you’ll be able to eat food again without feeling like you recently tried to beat a chewing gum consumption record. More MDMA* Borrow even more happiness. It’s tomorrow’s problem. *obviously don’t do this you cooked SOB. ____ Written by Josephine Harvey. Image by Huff Post. Source

Still duno what the issue is No settings were changed afaik

hello chief

If you missed out on the recent Violent Soho tour – the pinnacle of their meteoric rise to international stardom – the closest you’ll get to reliving the action is the WACO tour mini-doco. Shot and edited by Tim O’Keefe, the vid shows the guts of the tour, which included close friends and fellow legends DZ Deathrays, Dune Rats and Gooch Palms. Highlight might be BC (Dune Rats) saying, “If someone told me like years ago that we’d be touring, playing these fucking venues with DZ who took us on our first ever tour and we’d be playing with Gooch Palms I’d just kick ’em in the fuckin’ dick and be like, get fucked whale.” Enjoy. Source

Calling on @OxyKon @Mitch @Pending and everyone else Who can help out with this?

It's allowed but you posted in the wrong section. Moved to buy/sell.

Official White House photographer Pete Souza captured an estimated two million photos over eight years while Obama was in office. The Denizen compiled some of his favourite shots, which show the comical, intimate and good-natured president in all his glory. Enjoy. www.petesouza.com/ Oh, and there’s also this total winner: Source

The following was written by Danny Grant, the director of Empire and a slew of other brands in Melbourne. It’s his true story of growing up in a household of drugs. Last week Ben Cousins lost it again, and again people shared the story with terms like ‘legend’ and ‘my hero’. Throughout my life, I’ve been affected by drug addiction. I myself have never been addicted to drugs, but from the day I was born my mother has battled with drug addiction. In turn, this has affected every facet of my life. Growing up in my family home, ‘drugs’ was never a dirty word. It was something my parents prepared us for rather than trying to steer us away from. Growing up I was constantly surrounded by drugs. And not just one drug: multiple. The first time I smoked marijuana and took speed I had it given to me by my own mother in our family home. The thing about addicts is they aren’t addicted to one drug: they’re addicted to everything. For my mum, if it wasn’t alcohol it was speed and heroin and if it wasn’t speed and heroin it was prescription medication. She wasn’t specific. In the first few years of my life we were constantly shipped off to my grandparents while my mother battled her addiction problems. Eventually she seemed to have a grip on it, and it seemed as though it had been a short-term adolescence problem. She cleaned her act up, met my stepfather and we moved to a small country town – Broadford – to get away from the temptation. Life was relatively normal. Mum played sport, got a job, coached my sisters netball team and was heavily involved with the parent clubs and other community groups. But before long mum found a new vice, and alcohol became a major problem in our family. Two to three times a week my parents would drink till they were blackout drunk. I remember as a child walking home from a friend’s house or footy training and wishing that when I turned the corner on the home stretch I didn’t hear Bon Jovi roaring from our living room. If I did I knew what I was in for and that it was a ‘fend for yourself’ type situation that night. From a young age my sister, brother and I learned to take care of ourselves, which obviously had negatives, though we were able to find some positives. We had no rules, we could go to bed when we wanted, stay out late and basically do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted. As a kid that was a dream come true. Throughout my early childhood, my parents would occasionally clean up and attend AA meetings anywhere from one to six months at a time. And when they did we would get a glimpse of what normal life looked like. I think that was the hardest part to be honest. If they had been fuck ups the whole time, we wouldn’t have realised what we’d missed out on. But those short stints showed us a glimmer of hope, we would go on holidays, spend weekends adventuring neighbouring parks and even go fishing in and amongst plenty of other awesome family activities. Then they would decide to reward themselves with a few beers and the shit storm would come in like a hurricane. Feeding ourselves canned spaghetti, taking ourselves to bed and being kept up all night by pointless arguments that would sometimes end up in violence. There are certain memories that stick by me in what I like to call the ‘alcohol phase’. The strongest being this: when I was 14, my parents allowed me to pick what I wanted to do for my birthday. At the time, I had a girlfriend, so I decided I wanted to do something pretty low key: get pizzas and watch movies at home. But stupidly I asked them not to drink. That was a big mistake. Alcoholics don’t like people shining light on their problem. And I learnt this first hand. I hired the movies I wanted, but I never had a chance to watch them. Alongside those movies my parents had bought a slab and before we knew it they were black out drunk in the lounge room again. The thing about addiction is the people living vicariously through it very quickly learn that embarrassment is something you just deal with and learn to forget about. Around that same time my mother had a bad back injury at work. This is when things really began to heat up. Mum had to leave work, which gave her lots of spare time. Which meant the drinking increased. But this all seemed like child’s play when the future finally rolled around. Because of her severe back pain, my mother was prescribed a drug called oxycontin. Oxycontin is basically a legal version of heroin [ed note: Oxycontin is an opiate, similar to heroin though far weaker. Despite this, it is often considered the gateway drug to heavier opiate abuse, particularly when the ROA of the drug is altered] and before long my mum was severely addicted to it. Doctors warned her of the dangers, though she definitely didn’t help the process. I have memories from a young age being bribed with video games to mind the door while she shot it up in her bedroom [ed note: ‘shooting up’, or injecting changes the bioavailability of Oxycontin from roughly 60% to 100% and is not recommended]. At the time, my stepfather had started to work nightshift to make up the money we lost from mum losing her job, but when he found out what was going on, it was too late. Every night was then spent with my parents fighting until three or four in the morning. He would refuse my mum the drug and she would beg for it. I would go to school exhausted most days, and it wasn’t something I wanted to share with my friends. We had this rule in our family ‘what happens in the family stays in the family’, which basically was a way to teach us kids to not speak out or tell anyone about their alcohol and drug problems. At one point my mothers drug problem got so bad my stepdad gave up. I have no idea when that moment was, but he had been worn down to a point he couldn’t bare. I think our whole family had just come to accept it. At 15 I was drinking three times a week and smoking marijuana every other night at home. I was never discouraged, and I believe the reason stemmed from the weird and sick way drug use had been normalised in our household. Around this time was when my parents drug use stepped up a notch. My mother had somehow decided it was time to start experimenting with speed and ice. I’ve aggressively been against ice fairly vocally for years and up until now with basically no explanation (other then the stuff is disgusting) but I can say first hand the drug rapes and pillages peoples lives. I was 16 when my parents started to do ice and speed for the first time and within three years we had lost our family home, my step father passed away & my mother was so mentally ill that still to this day, she hasn’t recovered from it. And that’s not to mention the mental turmoil the rest of my family have experienced from everything that came with it. That’s the part people forget to talk about with addiction; the families it affects and tears apart. Being a drug user or an addict doesn’t just destroy your life, it destroys everyone around you. Drug addiction is a team sport, it’s not just about you – it’s about every person who cares about you. I’m now 29 and my mother still struggles with drug dependence. On the rare occasion we do hear from her, more often than not it’s because the police are looking for her. Although she has the opportunity to live in a house with three meals cooked for her a day, she lives on the streets collecting rubbish in her trolley, because she no longer has control of her life – the drugs do. So when I see people calling Ben Cousins a legend for ‘directing traffic’ it infuriates me. I know first hand that the drugs also control Ben Cousins and I know what his family would be going through. The thing with people like Ben Cousins and my mother is they don’t choose to do the things they do and be the people they are, they are literally controlled by addiction and addiction controls the path they are on. It’s not awesome, it’s not hilarious, it’s a serious issue that affects millions of people around the world, and normalising it and celebrating it is literally the worst thing we can do. My mum didn’t start off homeless and collecting trash in a trolley while she was off her face on drugs. She was a daughter, a mother and a good person who played sport, worked full time, was involved in parent clubs and coached sport’s teams. It’s easier to separate someone like her from yourself and your drug use, but at the end of the day, if you’re doing drugs this could end up being you. This isn’t a cry for attention or a way to make people feel bad for me. At the end of the day everyone has hurdles in their life and what makes a successful person is how they deal with them. My intention for people reading this is to both relate and realise you’re not alone, or to see that no matter how bad your situation is, you have the power to over come it, break the chain and create your own positive story. Words by Danny Grant. Lead photo of the author and his mother. ______ If you or someone you know has a story to tell about the impacts of drugs, however long or short, we’d love to hear from you. Email us – sarah.garcia@yourfriendshouse.com. Source

fark nice buy @russell

In April this year, the World Health Organization (WHO) released a conclusive study on the correlation between mental health and economic productivity. There were positive and negative points to the study, which can be aptly surmised with two singular points: 1. Depression and anxiety cost the global economy US$1 trillion each year. However: 2. Every US$1 invested in scaling up treatment for depression and anxiety leads to a return of US$4 in better health and ability to work. This figure is derived only by considering the most common forms of mental illness globally (anxiety and depression). The findings from WHO, published in the “The Lancet Psychiatry”, has drawn global attention from giant media outlets around the world, creating international dialogue on a topic that is seldom discussed. Dr. Margaret Chan, Director-General of WHO, spoke openly during the official press release, talking about exactly what she hopes the study achieves. “We know that treatment of depression and anxiety makes good sense for health and wellbeing; this new study confirms that it makes sound economic sense too,” Dr Chan explained. “We must now find ways to make sure that access to mental health services becomes a reality for all men, women and children, wherever they live.” Forbes author Carmen Nobel spoke with Nava Ashraf extensively during her piece covering WHO’s research efforts. Ashraf is an associate professor in the Negotiations, Organizations, and Markets unit at Harvard Business School, and is also a behavioural economist. Speaking about the data, Ashraf stated, “we haven’t been as good at understanding the link between mental health and economic productivity as we could be.” She continued, explaining, “that’s on both sides—both in the way mental health can affect economic productivity and in the way mental health is an outcome of improvements in economic development.” The bottom line is, mental health is more prevalent now than it’s ever been before. Between 1990 and 2013, the number of people suffering from depression and/or anxiety increased by nearly 50%, from 416 million to 615 million. Close to 10% of the world’s population are affected, and mental disorders account for 30% of the global non-fatal disease burden. According to WHO’s “Mental Health Atlas 2014”, governments spend on average 3% of their health budgets on mental health, ranging from less than 1% in low-income countries to 5% in high-income countries. This is a shocking statistic, given that the latest research proves that “a 5% improvement in labour force participation and productivity is valued at US$ 399 billion, and improved health adds another US$ 310 billion in returns.” Following her comments with Forbes, Nava Ashraf was asked by BBC World News to talk more extensively on the topic. Recommended viewing below. Source

Michael Cusack’s ‘Damo and Darren’ have become somewhat iconic since their appearance in the original Ciggy Butt Brain video. Since then, they’ve been to ‘The Skatepark‘, gone to ‘Centrelink‘, and in the latest of Cusack’s creations, they’ve found themselves at a train station, confronted by a man about their smoking. The result is just as far from PC as everything else Damo & Darren have done. But it’s worth the watch, just like everything Michael Cusack creates. Source

Watch this video on The Scene. Speaking with ‘The Scene‘, Kit Harington opened up about his audition for Game of Thrones, in which he had a black eye. According to Mr. Snow, he received the black eye the night before when he took a girl he was dating out to eat at a local McDonald’s, because the King of the North absolutely loves McChicken burgers (or whatever). In the video above, Harington recalls the ordeal in great detail. According to the Game of Throne’s heartthrob, he joined a table with a few gentleman, and one of them immediately started being rude to his date. The torment continued until Harington rose from his seat and realised he had to “throw the first punch.” So, Harington prompted the fight, and as his opponent rose from his seat, it became clear he was facing another man. In the end, he took an absolute pummelling, but still made it to the audition the following day and wound up with what we can all agree is one of his most defining roles as an actor to this day. Enjoy the video. Source

Photo by Declan Roache. After the recent protest in Brisbane (organised by Keep Queensland Open) and a continued uprising against the QLD Government’s tough new alcohol laws, two amazing videos have captured the crippling impact of such an excessive push by the state governments. Set to be introduced July 1st, the laws will reportedly cost Queenslanders working in pubs and clubs tens of thousands of hours. That means Queensland Premiere Annastacia Palaszczuk’s done more than just kill the dancefloor. The first video (view below), released by the brilliant No Curfew movement, focuses on what Brisbane weekend workers will suffer under the new laws. It’s posting (on Saturday) included the hashtags ‪#‎nannastacia‬, which has become common dialogue in the fight against the laws. The second video was produced by Shifted Pictures and focuses on the aftereffect of the lockout laws that have been imposed in Sydney. They wrote: “Sydney has changed a lot over the past 2 years. We documented what it has lost. Thanks to Art vs Science‘s Jim Finn for the music and Miller Marshall for the titles.” Here they are: Source

we sync mixes during the week so live shit would be doap

Come on cunce only @BeatLeSS tuned in for the hours of mixing we did Wots happened 2 dis place mayne

going live in a tick yo

The Handsome Show (feat. Me & @Mitch) will be live from just after lunchish today for several hours Tune in

For anyone that likes to hit the bottle, burn the midnight oil and pluck every hair off of the proverbial dog, recovering between weekends can be a full-time occupation. As a few casual Friday bevvies gradually snowballs into a three-day brain-cell-killing spree, the sorry sap on the backend of the bender has to pick up more and more pieces, find more and more lost inhibitions and scrape more and more dignity off the curb-side where they left it. Lately I’ve noticed that my comedowns have been getting crueller. Maybe, like Mel Gibson, I’m starting to get a little too rowdy for my own good; or, like Danny Glover, I’m just getting too old for this shit. In any case, I’ve learned that liquor is a lethal weapon—and I’ve become all too familiar with the trials and tribulations that it puts my body, mind and soul through after a particularly wild weekend. 1: INTOXICATION It pretty much goes without saying: you don’t get a hangover without getting belted in the first place. No valleys without peaks, and all that. But a strong sign that you might be headed for a particularly deep valley—and basically a prerequisite for a hangover of the magnitude I’m talking about—is when you wake up shitfaced. The ‘next day drunk’ is like The Matrix: an illusory kind of utopia that the individual is more than happy to believe in, because it’s nicer than the reality. All things considered, you feel good. Too good. So good, in fact, that you suspect you might have actually sidestepped the hangover altogether. You have only to sober up, get a good night’s sleep, and start the week feeling fresh as a daisy. Ignorance is bliss—but by sundown you’ll have hit that wall you’ve been dodging face-first, victim to a hundred micro-sleeps a minute and the crippling kind of fatigue that comes from an elephant dart to the jugular. Your descent has begun. 2: HANGOVER 2.0 That hangover you forgot you ordered somewhere between your ninth and tenth bottle of cleanskin may not have come express post, but it has arrived. And, like the $99 iPhone 6 you got off eBay, you might be surprised by the way it operates. Hangover 2.0, or the ‘second day hangover’, is different to your standard bleary-eyed, heavy-headed Sunday morning. Fifteen hours of rest have done nothing to stave off that fatigue, and you’ve woken up with a sickly taste in the mouth, a pit in the stomach and a dazed, fragile feeling as though someone’s beaten you in your sleep with a sackful of soap. Most disconcerting, though, is the scattered and frightful mental latitude you find yourself on. You are an endangered animal. Whatever lenses you were seeing the world through all weekend have been stripped away, leaving you to stare despondently at the dull, uninspiring sight of your #nofilter reality. 3: SUICIDE TUESDAY Rock bottom. This is the deepest point of the valley, shrouded with fog and fraught with peril. Everything you thought was bad yesterday is thrice as bad today, and an anxiety unlike anything you’ve felt in at least a week has wormed its way into your psyche. What happened in those five-hour blocks that you can’t remember? What did you say to that specimen you’ve been trying to have intercourse with for weeks now? What do your acquaintances—not the friends that know you well enough to not give a shit, but the acquaintances you haven’t seen or talked to since you blacked out—think of you now? These might be a few of the million questions piling up like horseshit on your conscience. You’re so low that you can’t even see the peak you’ve come down from, and certainly have no concept of any peak ahead. Suicide Tuesday is not named ironically: for the next twenty odd hours, there is no hope in the world. 4: RESOLVE Today is the first day of the rest of your life. A new life. A new you. You’re going to be an adult. You’re going to start exercising. You’re going to save your money and spend it on something more fruitful than fermented grape juice and vodka OJ’s. This stage is the New Year’s Eve of the hangover: a chance to turn over a new leaf and leave that old rotten, worm-eaten excuse of an existence behind. Of course, like their New Year’s equivalents, these resolutions hold about as much weight as the engagement ring in ‘Married At First Sight’, and will be thrown to the dogs just as quickly. If you think you make reckless decisions when you’re drunk, just wait and see the kind of things you’ll be promising yourself during the phase of resolution. You’re going to quit drinking, for good this time. Don’t worry: desperation makes people say crazy things. This is just a standard knee-jerk reaction to the harrowing existential crises you’ve been enduring over the past few days. Your mind is still clouded and your synapses are still misfiring. By tomorrow you’ll be back to your old self. 5: THIRST Because the five stages of the five-day hangover, like the rings of Hell, are circular. Humans are creatures of habit, after all: and as you ascend from your pit of woe and breathe in the fresh air of sobriety, cleanliness and cognition—patting yourself on the back for having bravely survived yet another grim week—you’ll want nothing more than to crack a frothy one and celebrate. Just one or two, at the very least. As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats his foolishness. Refer to stage one. ____ Words by Gavin Butler. Photo by Vadim. Source

Here’s an article that gives you exactly what it says on the packet. 1. Denial I don’t really have that much to do. Exams are still three weeks away and all I have to do is catch up on 13 weeks of lectures for four courses. If I start now that’s just 104 hours of listening time. That’s like, four full days of listening time and I’ve got 21 whole days. That’s so fine. I’m so fine. It’s fine. I’M FINE. 2. Anger Ok so turns out I can’t actually listen to lectures for 24 hours straight. It’s been four days and I’m up to lecture three. FACK. I hate my degree. What am I doing with my life? Why do I bother with this bullshit when I’m probably just going to graduate, get hired as a “social media manager” somewhere and get paid $21 an hour to post shit on Facebook? There’s no point continuing to study. I’ll just watch Friends for the next two days to de-stress. 3. Bargaining If I listen to my lectures on double speed, I really only have 50 hours of lectures to listen to. So that means I can take breaks to watch Friends twice as often. I am genius. I’m going to go buy snacks to celebrate. 4. Depression Even if I listen to lectures non-stop from now until my exam (at double speed), I won’t have time to do them all. I can picture the headlines now: “University student dead after jumping out fourth story window mid-exam”. Why didn’t I start earlier? Why do I suck so much? How did I get so fat in the space of two weeks? Why didn’t I just attend uni throughout the semester like a normal person? If there is a God, let the lecture slides be comprehensive enough to scrape me a pass. I swear, if I pass, I will devote my life to Jesus Christ. 5. Acceptance Fuck it I’m making meth. ________ Words by Josie Harvey. Lead photo by ytsirKGaunt. Source

I am live

Went to record my monthly mix then one of my decks fucked up in Traktor so had to cut it short.

I for one miss @FabDJ

This arve me and @Mitch are gonna do a Rotorcupe mix around 2:30ish kick off Be dere