I’ve taken my deep breaths. I’ve walked around the block more than a few times. I’m getting stressed out. I’m getting butterflies. Am I going to freak out?
So to mentally remove myself from how “gnarly” this election selection is, here’s a couple slight distractions.
Fight for your right, to party.
I never actually thought that a possum (oppossum) could hold it’s ground versus a massively sized german sheppard mix. Well, this little guy was fighting for his life… and the results of the fight - both animals walked away untouched.
We all either love or hate Vice Magazine, right? I happen to love them for a few personal biased reasons. But I’m going out on a limb and thinking that most likely you’re in the hate VICE group. oh well.
More importantly than the general vice issue, is specifically their DOs/DONT’s section of both their printed magazine, and their online magazine. I’ve (un)fortunately had some photos of mine published in their magazine but my favorite image of these, which might possibly have the most public reader comments on it, was when (trust me, it was a joke) my friends and I dressed up as Cobrasnake, Steve Aoki and that other clown from Good Charlotte. I haven’t really looked at Cobrasnake’s site in quite some time, but this was when they all happened to be in a bunch of Cobrasnake’s photos from that era… think 2005… long time ago… oh well. So anyways, here’s me on the left as Mark Cobrasnake, Chris as the Good Charlotte clown, and Tina as Benny Hana Steve Aoki. The funny thing (to me at least) is that we went out on Halloween in San Francisco and literally nobody knew who we were except for a few people who were like, “wait, you’re that dude from Good Charlotte!” But no one understood the humor in dressing up as the Cobrasnake or Steve Aoki. Maybe I’m the idiot, hmmmm - yeah that’s probably right. But even Perez Hilton voted us 2nd best Halloween costume of the year.
And to be totally honest, I’ve never met any of these three. They could be a bunch of nice, reasonable guys, but I’m assuming they’re lame-o Hollywood donkeys.
other links to other DO’s/DON’Ts of mine…
TAGS: Good Charlotte, Steve Aoki, Vice MagazineQ: Whats worse than assholes like me moving from California and every-fuckin-where-else to live in Brooklyn?
A: Assholes who pile-drive themselves into Williamsburg from New Jersey and Long Island for the night to get a taste of life out of the ordinary to them. Reeking of testosterone and Jagermeister, these Axe Body spray’d, frat jock fuckers come here driving these fucking unbelievably ridiculous, massive, Hummer limos, stretch limo this, stretch limo that, just to come and eat SEA (thai food) on North 6th St. and Berry. Then they pile out of SEA and head about a half block away to one of two all White Hip Hop type clubs called SYN (you can hear the same Biggie “Hypnotize” song every time you walk by this spot) or something horrible like that on Bedford Ave. and North 5th St. with all the other out of the neighborhood too-much-cologne, khaki wearing, pinstripe button up shirt wearing, homophobic, buff & fat fucks who do nothing but make loud noise, rude/crass comments meanwhile trying to hit on any and all girls who can walk. (damn, long run-on sentence - breathe now) I’m far away from the perfect citizen, but at least I’m not one of these fuckers. And my complaint isn’t against all Jersey or Long Island folks, just the ones (male 16-35) who belong at the Jersey Shore doing steroids and wrestling their buddies on the beach to get the attention of some trashy, urban outfitted college whores.
What happens in Florida, stays in Florida. These people did NOT know each other… I was sitting there on the beach and this guy walks up super close to this pretty large woman and started buzzing his metal detector around. He got eye contact with me right at this very moment, probably realizing that he just got caught delightfully checking out her mad nasty booty. Or was he embarrassed about his poor selection of booty to metal detect? What kind of precious metal could possibly be in that yuck booty - maybe some Fool’s Gold…
These poor suckers… Staten Island must hold some amazing secrets that other New Yorkers will never know about. Why do people live there? Actually not why, but how do they do it? There’s only two ways off that island. Verrizano Bridge to Brooklyn, or that drunk boaters wet dream ferry ride on the Staten Island Ferry from S.I. to Battery Park. These people do this everyday…at least there’s the Statue of Liberty and Downtown Manhattan to look at.
Bro-tography at it’s finest.
This is my “my little brother’s friend got soooo wasted the other night for the first time” post. Lame, I know. But I couldn’t resist.
Brandon Jones. 11 ciders in 45 minutes. Beat that.
Worthless, both post and motorcycle. This is my bike. But it hasn’t worked in 8 months.
500Lbs of junk - it’s basically a sidewalk prop accessory that collects a ticket every time the NYPD are trying to meet their ticket quota.
Hootie - Hoo!!! At the Los Angeles Dodger’s game with Amy, Jessica, Eric Steuer and Cristy. Who won? No idea, it didn’t even matter.
If i could live anywhere in the world, it would be _______.
If i could be married to anyone in the world, it would be _______.
This dog will eat you. Actually not at all. This Akita is one of the sweetest dogs ever. Unfortunately got Lupas and died.
Went camping and shooting guns recently in the Poconos, Pennsylvania. Blasted that head and chest of the paper target. Vegetarian hunter? Yup, that’s me.
Monday of this week provided me with a shitty day. Some ass donkey (bike thief) stole my expensive rear wheel set on my bike. in broad fucking daylight. In Manhattan, New York. And in front of a popular wine shop that both locals and tourists go to near Astor Place. Well, I got me a whole new wheel setup and here it is. (Update: selling this bike - Got a way better, safer 12 speed cruiser with safe brakes.)
Side note - I shot an Uzi last weekend on a camping trip in the Poconos, PA, and it’s not all that gnarly like in the movies.
TAGS: fixed gear bikes, ManhattanHomeboy ate one of them death pills and got RIP’d.
This dude used to hang out in my office until the Orkin man came and served him up a death taco. Kinda felt bad, but kinda didn’t.
Smashed my fingers (aka got finger bang’d). They’re fine.
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