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In Reality w/ Uncle Bucket is an advice column by Andrew Bucket. If you need advice on anything in the world, email your dilemmas to [email protected] by Tuesday morning.


0. To everyone


Hi readers,

Last week I made a dumb & dumber move and used my friend’s personal life in my column, which proved to be worse than it sounds because I not only used the details of their life without asking, but embellished upon them for literary effect. It didn’t bode well, the bode was all fucked up actually. For this I am sorry for any van-damage or unneeded grinding of gears. Life is enough of a zit without me pointing it out at the party.

It feels like a bit of a cliche to be in the poor opinions of your friends after using them in your writing, but this problem is real as Real Madrid. So for today’s column, I’d like to turn the telescope inside out and point it at myself– I’ll be asking myself advice, and answering myself, as myself.

This is probably narcissistic, obnoxiously meta, and unoriginal (see Vincent Gallos interview with himself)

but I should confess something regarding advice columns– and perhaps you figured this out already– they are largely made-up; fictional; imaginations of the columnist as a means of injecting the opinions they’ve developed through conversations over dinner. I have recently asked a famous columnist in drunken confidence about this, and my suspicions were true– these things are more about the ends than the means. Like pro wrestling, the merit is in the human drama and earnest morality play contained within– not in the notions of fact or fiction that we’ve all painfully vomited papers about in college ( or at least those of us smug enough to major in the humanities).

So, anyway, you can take some solace in knowing that a lot of this is real. Think of the the game Two Truths and A Lie, or Ripley’s Believe or Not. Try not to think of Dean Cain… you can’t, can you? Oh, superman.


thanks for reading, and you can know that every thing you read today is %100 true.

your humble amalgam,

Uncle Bucket



1. That’s So Gay


Dear Uncle Bucket,

How does one deal with homophobes without ruining one’s night, calling the ACLU, and devoting too much energy to morons.

frequently gay bashed


Dear Frequently Bashed,

My sexual orientation isn’t really relevant, but know this: I get gay bashed allll the time. I feel like I should have an honorary doctorate in gay. If Howard University was gay, I would be Bill Cosby.

I can make one quick-fire recommendation for those with more liberal positions on public bar fights:


* skaters run in packs

* skaters have fierce ideals regarding brotherhood (in flexible terms) and lifelong friendships

* skaters ride around town on their weapons

*they generally don’t fear jail

* DC skaters have been in more fisticuffings than any guido or redneck you’ll come across, I guarantee you.

Failing this short-sighted solution, which is only good for nighttime and also assumes that you WANT to hang out with skaters (some of you victims of homophobing are a little too Whole Foods to run with blunt-busting skate hounds, not mentioning that you’ll need queer friendly skater friends)…

here are some come-backs for rude-dudes-with-tudes-about-dudes-with-dudes-with-plans-to-later-get-nude:

1. …eat bags you quasi Emilio Estevez. Suck my dial! ill vagina-tize your neon getup, you fuckin’ get up kid, you fucking BeeGee on ice dip-lo. Andy Gibb looking, saturday night fever ass Mars Tra-Volta!

2. Yo, Tom my selleck, moustache face–your dental records are cavity city you oral catacomb.

3. Hey why don’t you detonate a gay-bomb on your i-pod, oh wait you already listen to Journey all day at your creatine-sweat-lab.

4. Time to re-evaluate your stock portfolio. (this works for some reason, I have no idea what it means)

5. Talk to the balls, cuz the dick likes dudes, and your mom is lube tube with boobs.

6. May your first son be Jay McCarroll. (right?)


7. Have you ever listened to rap? ( cuz rappers say the gayest things ever.)

You might got more cash than me, but you ain’t got the skills to eat a nigga’s ass like me.”- Cannabis


hope this helps

Uncle Bucket



2. Patron of the Farts


Dear Uncle Bucket,

I don’t want to start a band, but how can I contribute SOMETHING to music so that I don’t feel like a do-nothing. I care so much about independent music, HOW CAN I CONTRIBUTE without being in a band.

not so inclined to pine



Dear Pine,

disclaimer: if you’re snorting super-cool and you know everything about how easy and relatively inexpensive it is to put out a respectable pressing of a record, please skip.

What an amazing question. Amazing–because in the 80s and 90s (mostly) the major record labels held such a strange, ominous authority over who COULD release a record. This was the primary catalyst of indie music, as we all know. The rebels started their own labels and created what we know as the international underground. WAH DUH.

But in these days, it seems, that same writ of  permission is held closely to the chest by those with large collections of vinyl or the fabled encyclopedic knowledge of rock history. It’s both very important to the vitality of indie music, but also a self secluding crock.

Lets talk about rap music. The original campaign to promote the realness of rap music (hip hop, whatever) was to reinforce the point that it “wasn’t a fad“– that it was foreal. It was important at the time to make this point, even if just to inspire people to explore the medium, but after a while it became a leash; a boundary– as if to criticize the form was to negate the form, to side with the naysayers of years-ago.

Same thing with indie–its important to recognize that the war is over, we won guys. Everyone wants indie music because it feels the realist, and as big-budget culture gets more and more phony-boloney, indie music has become the comfort food of young people everywhere. To the effect of many, many ironies:

* when no one was interested, bands pressed records in droves. Now that everyone’s interested, bands make digital releases that are buried in cyberspace soon after.

* the culture of DIY has become a symbol that stands in front of a new relegation of responsibility: leave it to the nerds.

This is what you can do if you are interested in leaving something behind in the world of art, but don’t want to be in a band, and don’t want to tour, but simply want to appreciate–LOVE–music that your friends make:

* put out their record.

For one thousand dollars– 2 months rent in petworth– you can press hundreds of copies of your favorite local band’s record, on vinyl, with full artwork. You don’t have to be a record label, you don’t even have to be a business-person. You can simply front the money for your friends band to press a vinyl in enough quantity that their record will be around for years and years and years. and years.

Vinyl is big/durable enough that nobody throws it away, it ends up in people collections, or in bargain bins, but rarely ever the garbage. The case for vinyl is as simple as this: even if it’s fucked up, it still plays for the most part, so it really does last a long time. It scarcely becomes trash.

Also, what you’re doing is giving the band a really serious thing to sell at their shows. Touring is expensive and its really hard to get a weekend show in another city. This means that bands often take shows on Monday, Tuesday night and make the piddly money that touring bands make. But if they play well and sell some records, they make gas money and leave their music behind wherever they go. Having a real record encourages that band you love to tour and get good at being a live band who can take a cold crowd and turn them into fans. This skill is how you can differentiate good bands and great bands.

On a different note: those of us who are not involved with creating/playing music probably SHOULD be the ones putting out records because of the following:

* less likely to have emotional problems

* less likely to have social problems

* less likely to have drug/alcohol problems

* less likely to procrastinate/self-sabotage

* better task masters in general (unless you’re Jonathan Richman)

Lastly, I’m just saying that when a band gets that record in the mail and holds the weighty collection in their hand, the immortal stamp of their music in each groove– it plants a seed of seriousness in that band, one that will grow larger and more prominent than some undocumented party-show that everyone forgets– it means they were really there, really doing it. THAT is the gift you can your favorite band: put out their record.

burning the soapbox as we speak,

Uncle Bucket



Andrew Bucket is a regular contributor at BYT and has never put out a record, but maybe he will take his own advice.

send your dilemmas to [email protected] for anonymous, yet public, discussion of your life.