Beach Sloth's Birthday Bash Coverage

Beach Sloth & Co. were determined to ‘party like a blog star’ and their goal was met, hands were shook, bros (nongender specific) were hugged, lit was read, songs were sung, and lives were changed.

The crowd on the roof began gathering at the designated time of 8PM. After 15 minutes or so everyone began to wonder where the birthday sloth was. We were certain we had the right rooftop, so we continued to wait. No one was surprised by this lack of punctuality, sloths are slow, even that kid Jeremy I went to middle school with who pulled his penis out every time a bell rang knew that. Everyone in my class dreaded fire drills. To this day every time a cell phone with a bell ringtones goes off, I think of Jeremy’s penis, bouncing around the classroom. But Jeremy wasn’t there that fateful night, or maybe he was, I don’t remember hearing any bells.

After 37 minutes of waiting (I own a watch, I’m a professional) there was an ominous screech, everyone looked in its direction and saw a figure swinging from the next building over on a rope. I have to give it to him, Beach Sloth knows how to make an entrance. Beach Sloth is holding up remarkably well for 39, but 39 in human years is only around 23 sloth years, well within the ideal range for alt lit.

An entire alt litter of URL people appeared IRL. Guillaume Morissette. Lucy K Shaw. Santino Dela. Steve “The Cockman” Roggenbuck. Spencer Madsen. All on deck. All ready to make their word offerings at the 3 toed feet of the sloth god. Would he be pleased? Of course he would. The sloth is benevolent and the sloth is longsuffering.

Santino Dela made his verbal sacrifice first. And, holy shit, that man can talk. I thought his twitter was intense. This is the man that wrote 100 poems in one day. And even more impressive, they were actually good. I was so entranced by his wordsmithery, I forgot to check my watch for an exact time, but I’m fairly certain he read nonstop for 6 days because he created an entire “boosted fricked the frick up” world out utter nothingness. And then he rested, and all the guests said that it was good.

LK was on deck next. She is a famous Canadian musician. Did you know Canadians made music? Now you do. She kicked out the jams and pumped up the juice. Lighters were waved during one particularly soulful number. The roof was nearly caved in from the foot stomping of the crowd during another. Everyone had to take breather after that set. LK brought the funk, slapped us in the face with it, and then gently set the funk back down in its original resting place.

Once everyone had recovered from the Funk Slap, Guillaume Morissette read.He was literally carrying a baguette and a bottle of Pouilly-Fumé Coteau des Girarmes, smoking three cigarettes, wearing a beret, and sporting a mustache through the entire reading. It was the most french thing I’ve ever seen. But he pulled it off. After he read and finished smoking/drinking/eating his cigarettes/wine/baguette/mustache/beret France’s image in American was permanently uplifted.

Chants of “666…666…666…” began to fill the air and Steve Roggenbuck rose from the shadows in his infamous Pikachu helmet. Steve’s reading was exactly what everyone has come to expect from a Roggen-reading. Chakras were fricked, cockboys were boosted, Satan was praised. Steve didn’t let the crowd’s adulation faze him. He finished in a timely manner, picked up his macbook, sat down, and continued to live his lief.

Spencer Madsen was supposed to finish the reading, but he had already fallen deeply in love and absconded. After the festivities were over we were all informed that Spencer’s love was actually a Taco Bell Doritos Locos Taco. Don’t worry Spencer, we’ve all made that mistake. Some of us many times. Even though Spencer wasn’t able to read for himself, his cat took over, reading passages from A Million Bears. And that cat went hard in the muthafuckin lit. I’ve never heard a cat read with such fiery passion. Spencer, don’t ever forget this, you raised that cat right.

And then, the readings were over. The party continued to rage (responsibly). Beach Sloth felt thoroughly loved, and when he crawled into his [whatever sloths sleep in…a tree, maybe?] he felt a profound peace. He had done it. He had won at IRL.

Coverage of Beach Sloth's Coverage of my Coverage of Beach Sloth’s Coverage of My Coverage of Beach Sloth’s coverage of ‘2AM Interview: Buttercup and LK’

Beach Sloth. He is in the process of financing his third eye. Third eyes are expensive. This third eye serves many purposes. Primarily it’s used for keeping up with alt lit, but lately it’s been dedicated to unscrambling the puzzle that is my true identity. He and I are true ‘bros.’ Riffin’. You up for some reggae tonight, bro? Beach Sloth is.

The end of the world doesn’t concern Beach Sloth. He’s prepared. He’s got an iPod loaded with his ‘Armageddon It On 2012’ playlist. Through my underworld/shadow government connections, I’ve gotten a sneak peak at this magnificent playlist, and let me just say ‘wow.’ It’s a metaphysical journey. Is it autonomous? Is it transcendent? You bet it is. If I weren’t playing the long world domination game, I’d kick off the apocalypse right now, just to blast this playlist into the ear holes of every creature on earth. And I already know their response, they’d scream in unison, ‘Holy cocksucking Christ! My face is literally melting off of my skull, but Beach Sloth picked out some damn fine tunes for this occasion.’

Mongolians. Charles Bronson (the actor) was Mongolian. I don’t think that’s true, but I just watched Bronson, and they called him Mongolian. If you haven’t seen it, watch it and you’ll get a pretty clear idea of what I believe the Mongolian infiltration of alt lit will be like via Charlie Bronson’s (the prisoner) rampage.Will it include diehard dedication to novelty mustaches, nude fighting, and psychotic monologues? I sure hope so. Seriously, watch Bronson. I know I’m a little late on the Bronson Bus, but I just came off surviving The Dark Knight Rises, and I’m deeply in obsession with Tom Hardy.

My love for Tom Hardy aside, this chili situation really must be resolved. Buttercup needs your money. He’s too polite and busy indiscriminately punching bowls of chili to ask, so Beach Sloth and I are asking for him. Chili is serious business. I once watched a swarm of chili rise up out of its bowl and devour an entire family and their minivan. Chili will chase you and your loved ones through the street. Chili: it’s wild in the streets (runnin’ runnin’). Chili knows no fear. Buttercup is here to give chili a lesson in fear.

LK Shaw may have a milkshake that brings all the boys (even the vegans) to her yard, and majestic landscaping that keeps them there, but her greatest accomplishment yet was her acoustic collaboration with a wild raccoon. That’s the kind of musical genius that can only come out of Canada. Raccoons are known throughout Canada for their righteous, face-melting chops. LK is truly ahead of her time. The world needs more alt lit lady/nature’s bandit jams.


LK’s beautifully maintained yard sits in front of her shabby doll house. This is no ordinary doll house. It’s full of those weirdo alt lit types. Residence in the SDH is another thing that binds Beach Sloth and me. He’s been holding it down there for a hot minute, and I’m moving in on July 31st, and I’m bringing a cabal of incredible (and much more talented/interesting) people with me. Check that shit out, son.
        
I gave Beach Sloth some of the inside ‘deets’ on my grand scheme. This is highly hush hush, but I trust the Sloth. Put your faith in the Sloth, he will never betray you nor forsake you. Thank You, Beach Sloth. And, yes, I am working on ‘stepping up my online game’ but I’ve been busy setting up sleeper cells throughout most of Eurasia. But the URL game will be stepped up. And that’s a supervillain promise.

***6*** ***6*** ***6***

This weekend is Beach Sloth’s birthday bash! There’s going to be a life-changing party.
8PM. Saturday. July 28. 2012. The rooftop. 345 Eldert Street. Brooklyn. New York. USA. Earth.
All those crazy alt lit kids will be there. You should be there too. Wish Ol’ Beachy a happy 39th. Will I be there? Maybe. Anything is possible. Will you see me? Probably not. I’ll be in disguise, in the shadows. Watching. Plotting. Birthday Bashin’.

Coverage of Beach Sloth’s Coverage of My Coverage of Beach Sloth’s coverage of ‘2AM Interview: Buttercup and LK’

Beach Sloth and I are both firm believers in the power of online anonymity. But Beach Sloth has a slightly less rigid adherence to its tenets. I am a cyberghost. I exist in the kerning of alt lit. No one has ever seen Murdoch LaMarche in person. Someday in the future someone most likely will. Anything that can happen probably will happen. A private investigator could probably unearth my true identity, and one brave soul has set up a fund to hire one to get to the bottom of this. His name is Beach Sloth and if you make a nominal donation to the “Find Murdoch’s True Identity Fund” via paypal, he’ll send you a copy of his lovely chapbook. He has assured me that all proceeds are going to this worthy cause. (None of that is necessarily “true”, but you should buy his book anyway.)

But this is not a manifesto about my most secret of identities or a fundraising drive, this is coverage of Beach Sloth’s coverage of my coverage of Beach Sloth’s coverage of “2AM Interview: Buttercup and LK”. Beach Sloth was glum regarding his lack of online coverage, and I, being his confederate in confidentiality, sensed his chagrin, and filled that void. In addition to ‘I want to YouTube down the Rivers of America’  devouring his time and energy, Beach Sloth is far too humble to write something as self-serving as coverage of himself. Despite my general goals of supervillainy, I saw a golden opportunity to kick him a little boost.

Alt lit is in dire need of accents. Accents breed legitimacy. Alt lit’s in the process of acquiring a wider array of accents, including Mongolian. The Mongolians are working on their cementing their national brand right now, but that’ll be done soon. Prepare yourselves for an onslaught of Mongolian chapbooks.

Currently there is hearsay that Buttercup is amassing an army to overthrow the chokehold chili has on humanity. Buttercup is a very busy man. It’s not easy having to explain the origin of your name to every person you’re introduced to, but Buttercup rises to the challenge. With so many conflicting explanations for this name floating around it’s hard to determine which is true. Well I followed the leads, I called in some favors to a few dirty cops, and I got to the bottom of this mystery. Now, please remember, this information is strictly on the “DL” but before become the internet phenom he is today, Mr. McGillicuddy was a member of the crime-fighting trio The Powerpuff Girls. Along with his sisters, Blossom and Bubbles, Buttercup dished out the ass kicking daily. Buttercup had a split with the other Powerpuffs due to creative differences, and completely rebranded himself, but kept his name so he would never forget his Powerpuff roots. Powerpuff roots are the strongest kind fo roots.

LK Shaw has her own dark hidden past. After her long run as the star of I Love Lucy, she went into the rap game. Yes, that’s right. The LK actually stands for Lil Kim. Shaw is obviously short for Shawty. But like Buttercup, the game got to be too much so she fled the spotlight and rebranded. LK and Buttercup are masters of rebranding. Was LK involved in killing Biggie? Probably. I’m not saying she pulled the trigger necessarily, but…she probably did. I cashed out on favors with dirty cops investigating Buttercup, so I couldn’t dig deeper into this conspiracy, but I’m certain the evidence is there. Somewhere.

Miller High Life is the Champagne of Beers. Alt lit is the Champagne of Literature. Next time you’re reading some alt lit, break out a 40 of the High Life and you’ll truly be living the high lief. But remember to pour some out and shed a single tear for all the cockboys Steve Roggenbuck has lost while on his quest to LIVE MY [miller high] LIEF.

Alt lit is full of URL anthropomorphic creatures. Contrary to popular belief I am not an anthropomorphized creature capable of using the internet. I am a supervillain. The gazelle is pure misdirection. The wide array of nonhuman URL presences keeps things interesting. Beach Sloth calls out Sea Cheetah. Recently rumors in the alt lit circles have been circulating of a pay-per view death match between these two nemeses. My money’s on the Sloth. I forsee a Tortoise&Hare/Ali&Foreman crossover with Beach Sloth riding the slow and steady ropeadope train to victory junction, all the while protected by the armor of his Twitter ratio.

Coverage of Beach Sloth's Coverage of '2AM Interview: Buttercup and LK'

Beach Sloth [here] [here] [here] [here] is unbelievably prolific. His output is impressive by human standards, but it’s especially impressive considering he’s a sloth. Sloths are notoriously slow, but Beach Sloth bucks that stereotype with fervency. If it’s an important happening within the alt lit world, the Sloth will be there with coverage of it. But, unfortunately, poor Beach Sloth is so busy covering everyone else, he does not get much of that coverage for himself. Sloths are notorious for their lack of self-indulgent coverage.

Recently, Beach Sloth covered an interview of Buttercup McGillicuddy by LK Shaw (which also turns into an interview of LK Shaw by Buttercup McGillicuddy.)This interview is a bit of a beast. Beach Sloth begins his coverage referencing summer being the ideal time for harvesting the delicious interview fruits. Like all good things related to alt lit, this takes place URL. Beach Sloth is an avid advocate of the G chat interview, even going so far as to imply that any roof that has ever been raised was a direct result of G chat. Every dance in the 90s was at some point influenced by the time spanning power of G chat.

Buttercup and LK are adored by Beachy. He’s only met Buttercup once IRL, but that was enough to leave a lasting impression on his sloth heart. He hopes to meet LK, and expand upon his limited knowledge of her. He may not know much about her, but he does know the most important piece of information about anyone from another place in the world. Novelty accents. LK Shaw was put on earth to ‘class up’ the alt lit game with her English accent.

Chili is a very important subject in this interview/coverage. Most chili of unknown origin is more than likely an escapee from Satan’s kitchen. Satan has enriched his chili with the powers to skip out on subway fare and stop the hearts of lesser men, but Buttercup is resilient. He pushes through the devil’s attacks and carries on the interview. Beach Sloth is very worried about the current war on humanity waged by chili. But with Buttercup leading the resistance humanity will soldier on.

Futons are the mark of any true artist. Rumor has it that even I sleep on a futon from time to time. Veganism is discussed, but not in the typical condescending fashion. LK is too classy for that. Buttercup needs dairy products. Without them he’d just be a cup, and there would be no opportunity for the inebriated to sing “Build Me Up Buttercup” to him. “Build Me Up Cup” just doesn’t have the same razzamatazz. Beach Sloth fishes, but unlike [Butter]Cup, he only fishes for compliments. I think you’ve hooked one Beachy, you’re a solitary diamond in a field of broken Miller High Life bottles.

The movie-making skills of Buttercup enthrall Beach Sloth. He even had a cameo in “Dead Midgets” as “random shirtless dude #18”. Of all the random shirtless dudes, Beach Sloth really brought the qualities of being “random” “shirtless” and a “dude” to life. When award season for double-digit cameos by alt lit sloth writers comes around, be sure to look out for Beachy. If he gets stiffed this year I’m staging a boycott of all future Double Digie ceremonies.

The coverage turns to the slightly macabre as Beach Sloth wonders about the post-life life of his URL presence. He thinks his online presence is his best quality. Having never met him IRL, I am forced to assume that this is true. If his children are unwilling or unable to maintain his presence in his post-life future, I would be more than happy to pick up the sloth torch. Beach Sloth has mentioned in the past his disdain for his children’s online presence and their affinity for tagging every tweet #kidzbop. I am wholeheartedly ambivalent about a #kidzbop saturated post-life Beach Sloth. But my offer still stands to pick up the mantle of the sloth.

The coverage stands in stark contrast to the unedited feel of the original interview. It is potentially life-changing. And if your life is so flippant that coverage of a G Chat interview between two alt lit minds by an alt lit sloth changes it, let’s be friends. I may be a supervillain, but I’m also a superfriend.

So, for you, sitting at the laptop, wondering what direction your life could possibly go in after reading the Buttercup/LK interview, allow me to suggest the extravagant afterparty that is Beach Sloth’s coverage.

(Note: Murdoch LaMarche is in no way affiliated with the superhero clique known as The Superfriends)