2 months ago
1 year ago

Taylor & Ng drug house kitty mug from 1981.

In 1965 Win Ng met artist Spaulding Taylor and shifted his focus toward utilitarian work. The two founded Environmental Ceramics (the precursor to Taylor & Ng) and moved into creating handmade artware and homewares. The company called Taylor & Ng was founded during the same period and, with the addition of Win Ng’s brother, Norman Ng, as president, grew into a major producer and retailer of housewares.

Win Ng’s whimsical designs and animal drawings became a thematic focal point for many extremely popular Taylor & Ng products, from coffee mugs to kitchen aprons, pot holders, and dishtowels. These products sold heavily through Macy’s and other major department stores and housewares retailers throughout the U.S. during the late 1970s and 1980s. He created pottery, book designs and linens for over 20 years.

Through their own San Francisco department store and wholesale business, Taylor & Ng not only created a signature style still in demand by collectors, but helped to popularize Asian culture and cuisine. The Taylor & Ng company is credited with bringing the Chinese wok to the U.S. and making it a common kitchen utensil. In the late 1970s, they expanded their line to include a wide range of kitchen products, including a clever wood-and-metal-hook pot rack called the “Track Rack” that is still sold today. In 1977, Taylor & Ng introduced one of the first knock-down furniture products, the award-winning “Chair-In-A-Box,” designed by Don Vandervort (who later went on to found HomeTips.com). The Taylor & Ng department store closed in 1985 so that the business could focus on its wholesale activities.

1 year ago
The term square grouper was a nickname given to bales of marijuana thrown overboard or out of airplanes in South Florida in the 70’s and 80’s. In sharp contrast to the brazenly violent “Cocaine Cowboys” of the 1980s, Miami’s marijuana smugglers were cooler, calmer, and typically nonviolent. Square Grouper paints a vivid portrait of Miami’s pot smuggling culture in the ’70s and ’80s and its major players: the smuggling Black Tuna Gang, the pot dealing Ethiopian Zion Coptic Church and the tiny fishing village Everglades City.

The term square grouper was a nickname given to bales of marijuana thrown overboard or out of airplanes in South Florida in the 70’s and 80’s. In sharp contrast to the brazenly violent “Cocaine Cowboys” of the 1980s, Miami’s marijuana smugglers were cooler, calmer, and typically nonviolent. Square Grouper paints a vivid portrait of Miami’s pot smuggling culture in the ’70s and ’80s and its major players: the smuggling Black Tuna Gang, the pot dealing Ethiopian Zion Coptic Church and the tiny fishing village Everglades City.

1 year ago
Old ad for the amphetamine Dexedrine.

Old ad for the amphetamine Dexedrine.

1 year ago

Gregg Araki’s "Nowhere" is 90210 on acid, Clueless on coke, Happiness on paxil, Twelve Monkeys on klonopin, Rules of Attraction on ex, Kids on shrooms.

1 year ago 1 year ago
Moloko Vellocet - Milk laced with a drug. In the book, A Clockwork Orange, milkbars would sell milk instead of alcohol so that they could serve minors. The milk would be laced with “designer drugs.” Varieties include Moloko Vellocet (either an opiate (percocet) or an amphetamine (velocity, speed)), Synthemesc (synthetic mescaline), and Drencrom (adrenochrome). Note that in real life milk is not a very effective delivery system for most psychoactive drugs.

Moloko Vellocet - Milk laced with a drug. In the book, A Clockwork Orange, milkbars would sell milk instead of alcohol so that they could serve minors. The milk would be laced with “designer drugs.” Varieties include Moloko Vellocet (either an opiate (percocet) or an amphetamine (velocity, speed)), Synthemesc (synthetic mescaline), and Drencrom (adrenochrome). Note that in real life milk is not a very effective delivery system for most psychoactive drugs.

1 year ago
A Day in the Life of Hunter S. Thompson
1 year ago
Bryan Saunders: portrait of the artist on crystal meth
Johnson City, Tennessee, is a long way from bustling, well-to-do Nashville, a five-hour trip by car. The man I’ve come to visit, Bryan Saunders, lives on the fourth floor of a housing project called the John Sevier Centre. It was once a fancy hotel, back in the 1920s, then a home for the elderly. Sixteen people died in a fire here on Christmas Eve 1989. Nowadays it’s so insalubrious that each apartment is fitted with a loudspeaker. Every few hours they burst into life: “In five minutes we will be testing the fire alarm system…”
"Jesus!" I say the first time it happens. "It’s like being in prison."
"It’s intrusive," Bryan smiles. He’s happy to see me startled. "They say stuff all day sometimes."
"Who lives here?" I ask.
"Mentally and physically disabled veterans," he says, "unemployed people. You can live here for $18 a month."
"Can it be a dangerous building?" I ask him.
"Not from fire any more," he says. "Nowadays they have sprinklers everywhere. If someone burns their toast, there’s three fire trucks here in 10 minutes. But people die here and it’s mysterious. The police don’t advertise why and it’s just creepy. That’s why I picked an apartment that’s not so high up. I can throw my sketchbooks out of the window if I have to."
"How many journalists have come to interview you here over the years?" I ask.
"You’re the first," Bryan says.
"The first ever?" I say.
"Yeah," Bryan says. He looks a little melancholy. "Nobody," he says.
Bryan is an artist. For the past 17 years he’s been sitting in this room – or somewhere like it – drawing a self-portrait or two every day. “I’ve done 8,700,” he says. “Every day is different. Like snowflakes and DNA and fingerprints, no two are the same.”
The thing is, 50 of these 8,700 self-portraits have lately become very famous – celebrated all over the world, with millions of Google hits and aforthcoming exhibition alongside Damien Hirst at the influential Maison Rouge gallery in Paris. They’re the 50 he drew while he was on drugs. Each was created under the influence of a different substance, from marijuana and cocaine through lighter fluid and “bath salts" – "They’re what everybody says are causing people to eat each other’s faces" – to prescription pills with names like Cephalexin and Risperdal. In fact, most of the 50 were prescription pharmaceuticals. “That’s the popular thing today,” Bryan says. He says he hates drugs but feels obliged to try new ones, “just for the drawing”.
Bryan Saunders paints self-portraits under the influence of every drug he can find, from Valium to lighter fluid by way of Xanax and meth. He used to be an outsider artist. Soon he’ll be exhibiting alongside Damien Hirst in Paris.

Bryan Saunders: portrait of the artist on crystal meth

Johnson CityTennessee, is a long way from bustling, well-to-do Nashville, a five-hour trip by car. The man I’ve come to visit, Bryan Saunders, lives on the fourth floor of a housing project called the John Sevier Centre. It was once a fancy hotel, back in the 1920s, then a home for the elderly. Sixteen people died in a fire here on Christmas Eve 1989. Nowadays it’s so insalubrious that each apartment is fitted with a loudspeaker. Every few hours they burst into life: “In five minutes we will be testing the fire alarm system…”

"Jesus!" I say the first time it happens. "It’s like being in prison."

"It’s intrusive," Bryan smiles. He’s happy to see me startled. "They say stuff all day sometimes."

"Who lives here?" I ask.

"Mentally and physically disabled veterans," he says, "unemployed people. You can live here for $18 a month."

"Can it be a dangerous building?" I ask him.

"Not from fire any more," he says. "Nowadays they have sprinklers everywhere. If someone burns their toast, there’s three fire trucks here in 10 minutes. But people die here and it’s mysterious. The police don’t advertise why and it’s just creepy. That’s why I picked an apartment that’s not so high up. I can throw my sketchbooks out of the window if I have to."

"How many journalists have come to interview you here over the years?" I ask.

"You’re the first," Bryan says.

"The first ever?" I say.

"Yeah," Bryan says. He looks a little melancholy. "Nobody," he says.

Bryan is an artist. For the past 17 years he’s been sitting in this room – or somewhere like it – drawing a self-portrait or two every day. “I’ve done 8,700,” he says. “Every day is different. Like snowflakes and DNA and fingerprints, no two are the same.”

The thing is, 50 of these 8,700 self-portraits have lately become very famous – celebrated all over the world, with millions of Google hits and aforthcoming exhibition alongside Damien Hirst at the influential Maison Rouge gallery in Paris. They’re the 50 he drew while he was on drugs. Each was created under the influence of a different substance, from marijuana and cocaine through lighter fluid and “bath salts" – "They’re what everybody says are causing people to eat each other’s faces" – to prescription pills with names like Cephalexin and Risperdal. In fact, most of the 50 were prescription pharmaceuticals. “That’s the popular thing today,” Bryan says. He says he hates drugs but feels obliged to try new ones, “just for the drawing”.

Bryan Saunders paints self-portraits under the influence of every drug he can find, from Valium to lighter fluid by way of Xanax and meth. He used to be an outsider artist. Soon he’ll be exhibiting alongside Damien Hirst in Paris.

1 year ago
I’m a huge fan of MDPV," he wrote. "I think it’s the finest drug ever conceived, not just for the indescribable hypersexuality, but also for the smooth euphoria and mild comedown. Cite Arrow John McAfee on MDPV (commonly known as “bath salts”) now wanted for murder