Wussy is a band. A fantastic band. Greater rock writers than this humble scribe have lavished praise upon them, folks like Charles Taylor and Robert Christgau, who called them “the best band in America.”

Wussy’s new album, Attica is wonderful. Cincinnati Magazine has Christgau article about it, and an exclusive video performance of the lead track, “Teenage Wasteland” – a paean to the Who’s “Baba O’Riley” and to teenagers everywhere who connected with that track.

The video was shot by Michael Wilson, a wonderful photographer and visual artist who has shot album photos for The Replacements, Lyle Lovett, John Hiatt, Emmylou Harris and many more great music artists.

When did tank tops (aka “muscle shirts”) get hijacked from folks with muscles and become de rigueur for skinny kids, and especially hipsters? I know I’m from a different generation but to me you should only be allowed to wear a muscle shirt if you can show off some semblance of muscles – not to flaunt your pasty complexion and/or tats.

Here’s a visual primer…

Tank tops are OK for:

Tank tops are NOT OK for:

Got an intriguing LinkedIn request this week from someone I’ve never heard of:

Sure I don’t know Hamza from Adam, but how could I turn down his request? I made a list of pros and cons.

Reasons to accept a LinkedIn request from Hamza Degraft: 

1. Great name
2. Letters of name can be rearranged to spell “Grazed Fat Ham”
3. Wears a powdered wig
4. Ruffled collar, ruffled sleeves, unruffled demeanor
5. Has been at his job for 27 years so he must be doing something right
6. Helped me learn where Benin is.
7. Will allow me to start conversations at parties by saying “My business associate in Benin…”

Reasons to decline a LinkedIn request from Hamza Degraft: 

1. Don’t know him.
2. Letters of name can be rearranged to spell “HZ Fart Damage”
3. Might be a scam
4. Benin has ebola cases
5. Already sound pretentious enough without saying “My business associate in Benin…”

The wig sealed the deal. Meet my new business associate. He lives in Benin…

I had to take one of those cheesy online training classes at work. (They make them mandatory because no one would ever sit through them if they had a choice.)  It featured this illustration:

At first glance it appears to be a bald-headed judge in front of a wall that has an illustration of the globe on it. But I think it’s one of those optical illusions, like the famous young woman/old woman visual:

If you look more closely at the judge in the first visual, you realize that instead of being bald, he could be rockin’ the biggest, baddest ‘fro since 1970s baseball player Oscar Gamble.

Oscar had the best hairdo ever in baseball. And his baseball cap had the toughest assignment ever. You can’t control that ‘fro, you can only hope to contain it temporarily.

So thank you, Mandatory Training Class, for helping me think about Oscar Gamble instead of thinking about the topic of the training, which was… I forget.