Daniel Eberharter writes:

My good friend Andi has a small label called Fettkakao. He puts out his friends’ music and lets other friends do the artwork for these records. This week he curates an exhibition at Wattestäbchen (Vienna), with live shows and, of course, artwork by Lisa Max, Christian Tanzer and Matthias Peyker. Go there. Go there. Go. There.
Fettkakao @ Wattestäbchen.
15 May-19 May.
Lehargasse 15, A-1060 Vienna.
Link 1 (Fettkakao)
Link 2 (Flyer)
Link 3 (Wattestäbchen)

Consider it a recommendation!

Do burglars really look that way?
If yes: I’m scared!

Location: shop window of a company selling alarm system and security doors; Landesgerichtsstraße.

You bastard can’t force me to take drugs!

Location:
“Summer of Love. Art of the Psychedelic Era”
Kunsthalle Vienna.

First I was *really* sad. As sad as if E.T. was going to die. The small chinese grocery store at Naschmarkt stopped to sell my favourite instant soup.
But, as a matter of fact, they started to import a new spicy instant noodle soup. And it is much better!
Yes! YES! Smack my ass and call me Schorschi!

HSIA / Kettenbrückengasse 22 and 23 / A-1050 Vienna
Opening times: Mo-Fr 8:30-19:00, Sat 8:30-18:00

It saddens me to relay something that Andrea Dusl posted yesterday evening: Günther Nenning, political activist, author, journalist, and one of the mentors of the green party in their founding phase, died last sunday in his home in Tyrolia. No matter if you belonged to those that loved or despised him, he was a brilliant, witty writer that influenced not only many journalists, but also had tangible influence on Austrian politics for quite some time.

Writing something even close to an orbituary for a man like him is no easy task. He was a political enigma, shifting constantly between political sides, but always maintaining the goals he deemed most important - ecology and feminism. He was kicked out of the socialist party after the protests in the Hainburger Au where he was one of the key figures, hosted some of the most memorable Club 2 episodes, worked for various magazines and newspapers, again spanning the gap from profil to the Kronen Zeitung, founded the Austrian journalists club, survived a personal feud with Bruno Kreisky, and wrote numerous books.

He was one of the most dazzling characters this country had, and one of the few remaining “grand old journalists”, and will be missed by friends and opponents alike.

Source

Brothas and sistas!

Do you remember the time when Vienna had the telephone area code 0222?

The Postal Services — there wasn’t a “Telecom” back then — changed 0222 to the international standard 01 in the mid-90ies.

Just five minutes ago Thomas Thurner told me that the area code 0222 still works. Couldn’t believe it, but it’s true.

(Image: Viennese phone book from 1965)

The shop window of Café Käuzchen (Neustiftgasse, corner Gardegasse) is decorated with a strange fucked up puppet wearing a mask that looks like a hybrid of Mick Jagger and Viktor Klima.

Tomorrow (May 12, 8 PM, dietheater/Konzerthaus) the next Taugshow will be staged and recorded.

Our guests:

Dr. Klaus Schönberger talks about bank robberies, blogging and cakes as means of political resistance

Charlotte Zott (aka Sari) talks about transforming freedom, lottery software and system theory.

eSeL and KaCe talk about talkshow behaviourism and TV iconoclasm.

Magistra Fürlinger talks about lingustics and German Schlager music.

And the offical showband will be On’jel (Oddtime Records).

Link 1
Link 2

This is a letter to the old kind sir that honoured me with his attention while i was standing around near the Josefstädter Street.

Dear old Sir,

thank you kindly for telling me “I wish you cancer”, while you saw me smoking a couple of metres away from the other people. Unfortunately you did not have the courage to get off your bike and wait for my answer. You probably only heard my “Why thank you”, but i would like to extend my honest gratitude towards you with a few written words.

First i would like to tell you that it is indeed none of your concern if i smoke and risk my life, you old perverted pedophile piece of ugly shit.
Second thing i would like to tell you, i do not smoke in public spaces when there are non smokers near me.
Furthermore i would like you to know that i am really sorry you were such a coward and hurrying down the street, and i didn’t feel like running after you. Unlike you, you sorry ass, i have to work 10hour shifts and not live on welfare. Actually, my ability to work assures intolerant half dead humam beings like you to get food and still be able to insult strangers.

I look forward to meet your sorry ass again, and tell you personally how happy i am to know that you are already half rotten and see the graveyard ages before me.

with kind regards,
me.

Disclaimer:
I do not hate old people. I spend my whole weekend with my grandmother, and i am usually overly polite when i meet old people. What i do hate is intolerance against any kind of human being. I do understand that it upsets you that smokers wallow their vice near you, which is not healthy for you. But please, dont get all stupid and risk a heartattack if tolerant smokers like me are enjoying the first cigarette since hours after a long working day. Dont insult every smoker you see without any reason. I dont tell you that you smell like a piece of shit and make me vomit cause youre using the most disgusting perfume on the planet. I dont tell you that i would like to shove that Kebab up your ass cause it disgusts me when the subway smells of dead rotten lambs.
I am fully aware that non-smokers can be affected by the smoke, but for heavens sake, if i stand 5 metres away from you, you should be more concerned about the evil cars with their semi-cancerish fumes or the mobile phone that seems to be clued to your ear.

Thank you, old dickhead for ruining my evening. May i extinguish my cigarette on your grave! HUZZA!