Monday, June 29, 2009

The Bee The Butterfly Man

Monday night penis joke!

Marion did not think it was that funny because it was in her soup.
PS Marion is in Richmond now.
Hi I miss you.
Road trip!

In other news, I think it is weird that Bowery Electric has that mirror wall outside.
I don't understand the concept.

Furthermore, the interior of that place is not so bad (recent realization)
Too bad no one ever goes there.
They need some sexy bartandrahs and some special hipster djs and its in the bag.
Or drink specials.
Always a good idea.
I just right now put it together that thinking outloud on a blog means it is inevitably going to be bor-hong.
I am falling asleep just writing this.

Today was therapy day and my best friend I mean therapist, Claude, discussed with me why I am afraid to be gentler with people.
I told him its because I play the role of being absurd and uncouth so well that it gets laughs.
I don't know who I am really if I'm not saying something negative that in turns comes out as humorous.
I told him I'm willing to bet if I soften up I won't be nearly as entertaining.
Case in point, this blogging sitch right nyah.
He told me when I want to be mean I should pretend that part of me is like the asshole cop everyone hates, who can never just be decent and let shit slide.
I thought that was an amazing suggestion so I'm going to try it.
When my mouth is ready to say "Hey fuckface I bet yer hung like a baby I can tell because you've got lady hands. I hope yer whore mom buys you a new car for your birthday then you accidentaly drive it off a cliff"
I will tell that part of myself to shut up.
I will be telling the asshole cop character inside me to shut up though, so it will be like a lil trick on meself.
Hooray for tricks!

Speaking of tricks I learned a few from this guy the other night

I have more news but I would rather eat my green beans in peace instead of doing this.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Hustler on the rise, laces untied

I sort of can't wait to hear Jadas gravel voice.
PS I refuse to wear sneakers.
(yes she did)

“If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can be dealt with.”

I sat on the bus from 72nd st all the way to 1st and 1st.
No music, didn't open my books, didn't do the NYTimes crossword.
Honestly the dramatics aren't needed because death is just another part of life.
but I feel sad anyway.
The simplest version of that emotion, thats what I feel.
When I think about all the pain he must have gone through all of those years, the way he was adored and treated like a pet as a child.
The way he never had a chance for the freedom of normalcy.
The way he couldn't make a single mistake, he couldn't give up performing, practicing, working...
for his whole life.
The way he mourned that by becoming what WE all wanted him to be. A character, a muse, a freak, a king.
He spoke so soft like he was scared of saying anything to make us stop loving him.
And whatever it was he did over the years that was immoral or unusual or misunderstood...I think we can use humanity to understand what it is to be truly flawed.
I used to dance and sing to my parents vinyl and he was one of my favorites.
When I sing his songs I feel good about my voice and myself.
When I dance to his music I wish I could do what he did so easily.
Everyone wants to be loved and remembered.
I'm going to love him and remember him.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

When I Grow Up

When I grow up, I want to be a forester
Run through the moss on high heels
That’s what I’ll do, throwing out boomerang
Waiting for it to come back to me

When I grow up, I want to live near the sea
Crab claws and bottles of rum
That’s what i’ll have staring at the seashell
Waiting for it to embrace me

I put my soul in what I do
Last night I drew a funny man
with dark eyes and a hanging tongue
It goes way bad, I never liked a sad look
From someone who wants to be loved by you

I’m very good with plants
When my friends are away
they let me keep the soil moist
On the seventh day I rest
for a minute or two
then back on my feet and cry for you oooh oh

You’ve got cucumbers on your eyes
Too much time spent on nothing
waiting for a moment to arise
The face in the ceiling and arms too long
I wait for him to catch me

Waiting for you to embrace me



Feeling you from the inside.

Good brunch with Tash today, Moroccan Benedict and Blood Orange Martinis. Yums!

Blorg time.
I'm feeling really joyous and blessed, which doesn't really make for the best comedic commentary, thats the sad truth of human nature.
But bear with me.

I honestly don't know what to say today so I'm going to drink a beer and see were that goes.

OK Things.

Thursday Night.

The darling Professor is back in town from a long stint in London. He brought a lot of energy home with him to New York, so he has been a gem to have around.
LOLA party 10pm.
We walked along the river to the Broad St Ballroom and into the most crowded glorious place I've seen in awhile.
There wasn't a sourpuss in sight.
Good times with immediacy.

Tash was bewildered.

10 minutes after we got there, we got up to the front. Alger is walking around being mysterious and Questlove slinks right by him playing a triangle or something up to the stage. Super relaxed.
Then his marching band came out of nowhere and blew excitement directly up our collective asses.

Hearing Hollywood Swingin' performed in this fashion is probably the fastest way to get asses shook.

10 flights up we found early nineties club music and a wooden playground on the roof.
Also beer in Levin's pants.

On the eighth floor we found more beer and tequila, a barber shop, a body mod guy, Amber and her sister, some police officers and firemen, a giant bodyguard, better music.

I never made it to the pool because you weren't allowed to bring beers in there.
I think I missed a lot of things going on but I had an excellent time.
I'm pretty sure the tequila was cursed because after a couple shots everyone was on one.

Midnight it all shuts down.

Levin posted up for a minute then we hit the streets.

Some assholes I don't know wanted to jump in the picture.
I was told to get the abusrdly massive american flag in he photo and of course did not.
So Olives salute makes zero sense in this case.

Gotham City yall.

Friday night was conceptual photog mission with Alger.
Dress up and models and documentation of the greatest apartment I will even have inhabited in this city.

Stylists are always fun because they love to talk shit on everyone.
It's part of their gig really.

Beautiful girl, great trash hair.
PS, just because a woman is Japanese, it does not automatically make her retarded.
Speaking broken English and having a brain deficiency are two different things.
She was a total doll and probably laughing at all of us inside.
Stupid Yankees.

The 17 year old Russian model in the foreground had a lot to say about American culture and the fact that I burp pretty constantly when ingesting Budweieser tallboys.
Keep your Eastern Euro commentary to yerself please. Theeeeeinks!
PS youre cute, but I don't need the sass. Look gorgeous and shet the yap.

Marion looked like Carnivale plus Miami plus country singer plus sex.

I initially resisted taking part in the actual photos, then I remembered I am suprememly self absorbed and theatrical.
So I put on a metallic onesie and some hot bitch heels and worked it out.

For those of you unfamiliar with the Alger photo mastery, heres a piece he did for Ray Ban recently.
When he runs around the models with his lights drawing in the air thru the darkness he makes a hilarious rocket zoom type sound.
That makes it very hard to hold still and play serious.
He is one of my favorites generally speaking and he deserves every ounce of success he ever sees.
What a heart.

Everything is so fun lately it makes it impossible to express on a blog.
I feel so lucky to have such fantastic people around me all of the time, they are inspiring and full of such genuine goodness and talent and humor.

Olive got some photos back recently from a trip we had to NJ together, they are so natural and free and a superb reminder of how wonderful things can be when we see them for what they are.
The shore on a cold day with no shoes.
Your mothers house in the suburbs.
A wrestling match with one of your oldest most loyal confidants.
All caught.
So we don't forget it or take it for granted.

Oldest, dearest, I never forget you.

Kisses from the summer solstice.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009



I wish Trent and I could get married in a black forest that smells like density and wilting rose buds :(

Whoops just kidding.

Whoops serious.

Yall thought you knew me.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

I'm really relaxed about things.

I feel like this is an example of exactly how horrible I am on my pain in the ass days:

(ps sorry Hoyt for blowing up your spot about how gay you are)

me: oh my god can i just say it
i fucking hate
i hate the smell
so much
jhoyt: coffee is slang for get a beverage
me: it smells rotten
jhoyt: of any kind when its too early to drink
well, I like it
so deal
me: what about the smell
jhoyt: Its different when you like it
me: when i smell coffee and im with someone else
i automatically dislike them

jhoyt: it forms a receptor that associates those molecules with heightened awareness
me: via association
jhoyt: even iced coffee? its not fragrant
me: i know what it smells like under the ice
jhoyt: well, sorry dude
just give me a mint, and I'll stay away from your nose until Im done
I love espresso
I used to hate it, but now, I LOVE IT
me: disgusting

me: when i dont like things
i really trul;y am grossed out
jhoyt: you can have soda
me: the trifecta is coffee, yogurt, and bananas
those three
i wanna throw up just seeing the words typed
jhoyt: like banana chopped up in the yogurt?
me: oh my god
fuck you
jhoyt: a parfait?
me: its disgusting
the worst part is kids love yogurt and bananas
but i cant touch or smell them
i get the willies
so i have to make them do it themselves which is really messy
jhoyt: is it a weird trauma thing?
me: i dont know
i just hate them
they smell like rotting corpse in my mind
jhoyt: when Im feeling lazy on weekends I get a stick of ostrich beef jerky and this really processed stiff creamy icelandic yogurt
me: like decay
everything you say is so latent homo today
jhoyt: deal with it
you should bang the homo out of me
that would totally teach my coffee drinking yogurt loving ass a lesson
me: thats disgusting
talking like that with yogurt in the sentence
also ass
ass plus yogurt
plus coffee
plus the term bang
all of that was a nightmare

In conclusion, being friends with me obviously sucks.

All the good ones are dead or doing yoga.

I kind of really want to see Stone Temple Pilots in Atlantic City next month.
Maybe to get ready I will pierce my nose the night before and stock up on Manic Panic and get some really bad dope to shoot.
Whoops just kidding.
I'm not kidding about wanting to see them though.

How epic was Unplugged???
I have intense memories of falling in love with Scott Weiland/Eddie Vedder/Kurt Cobain(RIP)/Layne Staley(RIP)

PS MTV Unplugged is coming back according to this music news blog post but its only going to be online and it includes Katy Perry.
Fuck you, MTV.
If you can not live up to the year of 1993, then just give up already because I hate you.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Hi Waaaaayne.....Hiiiiiiii.

I just touched my cat's butt by accident and I'm really disgusted by it.

Something else I'm disgusted by is the state my legs are in.
I look like a teenage runaway who lives under a bridge and has a vitamin deficiency.
I have been tearing up South Street on my bike as well as having too many drinks and aggressively dragging said bike up and down stairs and such.
That explains the severely bruised ankles/calves/thighs.
I have this super irritated shredder cut that looks kind of like a tiger tried to climb up my limb. Its is a little swollen and still fairly dirty.
I fell. That's the whole story.

So today Claude, my cognitive behavioral therapist/new best friend told me in jest that I should tattoo 'I don't date losers' on the palm of my hand to serve as a personal reminder.
We talked for at least 20 minutes about the fact that I specifically chose to continue seeing men who I am FULLY AWARE are unavailable.
AKA substance abusers, cheaters, jobless drifters, emotionally invested in other women, depressed, etc etc etc.
To be totally honest, this is something I swear to God, I didn't know I was doing.
Heres a sample of how blind I am:

Claude: What exactly do you want from ____?
Me: I think I have no idea what I want. I think I wish things would just be happy and awesome. The men I like, they are actually good people, seriously Claude.
Claude: OK. Good. Are they available?
Me: No.
Claude: OK. So you have to stop seeing them. Cut it off. Its OK for things to just not work out. No one is a 'loser' we are just humans. You are not picking losers, you are just being *MALADAPTIVE.
Me: But that means I don't win.
Claude: Riiiight. So you're winning right now? I mean... wouldn't winning be dating people who want to be with you? And respect you? And are ready?
Me: What? This is stupid. I win if I make it work.
Claude: Guess what. You just made my job easier. Repeat yourself outloud. See how it sounds.
Me: Oh shit.

Aaaaaand SCENE.
Then he gave me some exercises to do and things to research and looked at me like a little gnome and wiggled his glasses and said, "Its all about the path. Thats all. Just the path."
That gave me a panic attack but I settled down and was fine.
Great Job.

*Maladaptive behaviors refer to types of behaviors that inhibit a person’s ability to adjust to particular situations. This type of behavior is often used to reduce one’s anxiety, but the result is dysfunctional and non-productive. For example, avoiding situations because you have unrealistic fears may initially reduce your anxiety, but it is non-productive in alleviating the actual problem in the long term.

Enough about that for now.
Here's some things me and Gob did together recently.

(not this Gob)

Gob and I looking at the river while weird Chinese people fish and set things on fire.

Gob and I looking out at machinery and dome as pictured below.

Awkward running father who did not understand that one would need wind in order to successfully fly a kite.
Men alone with children is interesting because of their completely sporadic fits of logic. Its there...then its not? Oh here eat this popsicle for breakfast. What? You refuse to now eat these eggs? Why???
Lets fly a kite! Shit, there is no wind. I guess I'll just walk around with you with no water and long sleeves on this very hot afternoon until your mother gets home.
I love men, I do. And the idea of a loving father, a fun father...its a Dream. Its special!
Lets face it.
Theres a reason why kids think dads are fun and moms are pests.
Somebody has to be the pest or every kid in the world would have rotten teeth, dirty faces, infected fingies and weird brown bag lunches with little to no nutritional value.
I generalize because its funny.

Death is part of life.
But maggots eating squirrel eyes is still gross.
FDR is literally killing it.
(ba-dum CHHHH!)

Tank top balding sandals guy and his giant turtle, who may in fact be his romantic lover.
PS the turtle lives in a boat house.

This has nothing to do with my bike rides, but please look at this man on the train.

His toupee was SO UNBEWEAVABLE in person.
It looks like a hair hat!
I have never seen anything like it.
It was so shiny and wiggish and his little remaining wiry gray hairs poked out all around its border.
He also had the weirdest kit I have even seen, dirty denim with elastic waist and cuffs?
One velcro shoe one with laces?
A fucking confetti party time pattern umbrella?
An expensive-ish watch?
I'm pretty sure hes one of those people who tries to sell you free things like copies of the Onion or 'appraisal on air conditioning unit installing' coupons he got in the mail. Super Saver!
He probably also eats people.

The opposite of scary train guy is this kid, who I met at Stephanies bday BBQ.

He was really good at scrounging our food and also tried to plant an avocado pit in the dirt so the park could have a fruit bearing tree.
I gave him bubbles and a pop ice.
Then I played ball with him.
His face makes me happy so I am going to go to bed before something ruins it.

Arr-vwar, creeps!