- BEFORE I HAD A GIRLFRIEND

Wrote this a few months ago never posted it. Since I've been so lazy on my blog I guess something is better than nothing right? RIGHT?!

Things not to say on a date:
"I'm wearing my lucky corrective shoes."

Things you don't want to hear your date say:
"I like my men like my coffee, strong, black, and with a nutty aftertaste."

Walking into the Laundromat tonight I noticed a young woman come in right after me. As I was paying for my laundry, she handed her ticket to the man at the counter. He walked back to get her drycleaning so I had a few seconds to think of something droll to say, some type of conversation starter. I leaned towards her and whispered, "So do you tip when you pick up?"

"No, I never have," she quietly shuffled her words back to me, looking down at her feet. As I was about to continue I noticed the proprietor had already gotten back to the front desk and was standing there with her laundry.

I wasn't sure if he heard us but there is a good chance since the store is pretty small. Without even acknowledging I was speaking to her, I grabbed my cloths and left without saying another word to anyone. And no I didn't leave a tip of course because I'm a cheap bastard. I don't think the girl was planning on it either as I glanced back from the door to see her stuffing all of her change into her purse.

Since I was the first outside I needed to slow my pace so I pretended to have trouble adjusting my laundry bag into a comfortable position to walk home with, but realized this would make me look silly and I couldn't keep it up for too long. I instead grabbed my cell phone, opened it, and started speaking into it.

Me: "Oh hey what are you doing?"
(Me imagining what my friend would be saying back): "Nothing much just got home from work and wanted to see what you were up to?"
Me: "Yea nothing much just picked up my laundry and I'm on the way home."

I got tired of this conversation so I began literally mouthing words but not actually making audible noises since no one else was around to hear me. I realize it didn't matter, this was just to provide visual proof that I have friends to call me and am not a complete loser.

Then I started talking out loud again into the phone.

Me: "Yeah I'm just talking to myself waiting for this girl to come out of the Laundromat so I can take up the tipping conversation with her again. But she's taking awhile to actually leave the store and I feel like an idiot. I should hang up now."

She walked outside and in an obvious effort, crossed the street to the other side when she saw me and walked away.

- OF COURSE I DIDN'T HAVE MY CAMERA

I had just stepped out to lunch and was coming back with my Bun Ga Cary (chicken curry soup with noodles for you whitefolk) as I came upon a swarm of photographers staked out in front of a courthouse on Lafayette street. Remember the thing where he threw his cellphone at a hotel clerk dude and it actually cut the guy? I think it was something like that.

I struck up a conversation with a man who had a similar digital Nikon camera as me, although his was more advanced and cost about an extra 2 grand. He was a "celebrity chaser" or whatever he called it (aka paparazzi). We talked awhile and he seemed really cool. We mostly talked cameras.

I asked what he was doing there. "Waiting for Russell Crowe." First thing I thought was damn I almost brought my camera out with me for lunch but opted not to because it's flippin cold outside.

Right then a black SUV pulled up near where I was standing and about 100 photographers came running like crazed wolves towards the car. I moved very quickly out of the way as I was basically in the line of fire. For the next five minutes Russell Crowe and several bodyguards sllllllllllowwwwwwwwwwwly moved towards the front door of the court building.

It was like Crowe was a large magnet and the photographers were pulled in towards him, moving in unison.

It was INSANE. Bodyguards formed a small circle around him and were knocking people down. Photographers were swooping in and out and pushing each other around like they were going for the last loaf of bread on the planet.

I was in awe and just shocked really. I've never been right in the middle of a melee but that's basically what it was. The whole time Russell slowly walked not speaking a cent, his sharp suit talking for him. Bright flashes of light continually bounced off his mirrored sunglasses.

Afterwards even the photographers were filled with adrenalin. It was an intense scene. Inside Edition and a few other papers were interviewing a raving photographer who claimed he had been thrown to the pavement and held down by someone.

The two shots I got are terrible I know because I only had my camera phone. Later on I caught up with the guy I had been speaking to and he showed me the shots he took, which were great and will probably be online within the next few hours he said.

Oh and the Bun Ga Cary was great and still hot when I got back to work..mmmm



terrible I know. Crowe is in there somewhere. I could only get so close and didn't want to get stomped on.


Photographer after the scene, claiming physical abuse.

- MY MOM

Yo my mom's like an artist and shit. dig?

But seriously go to her new site and support her especially if you've been leaching off my fucking website for the brilliant humor and amazing photography for the past year or so.

Buy something for yourself if you're a chick or if you're a dude you should get this for your girl (before you slap her on the ass and have her get you a beer).


http://www.cafepress.com/she_threads


serious editors note:

Mi madre is into feminine empowerment in her art now. I think that's pretty cool.

- YEAH I KNOW I SUCK

Cause I haven't been writing much at all. Mostly photography these days and I got offered to do a wedding gig for a friend on New Years Eve actually. And it's PAID!!! wooowwwooooo!!!



That's from a few weekends ago at my friend Brad's wedding. I wasn't the photographer but will be giving a few shots like that to him as a present. This one is my favorite.

The wedding was in San Diego. I thought the city was pretty lame but I'm not really a beach person and I suppose that is one of the great selling factors of it. Every restaurant and bar we went to lacked the intimacy found in other cities (not just NYC) that I've been to. It was antiseptic and just kinda bland with enormous ceilings in these huge buildings.

We did however go to Tijuana which was another story. That city is pretty damn dirty even though the streets were cleaner than you would believe. Every 10 feet a guy would say, "You need a cab? cab? cab?" as we would keep walking the final attempt to sell us something came as, "a whore maybe?"



Ok so no whores but I did get to wear this hat and poncho while this dude threw up some Mexican Gangsta sign.

I wrote a post about walmart a few weeks back and my buddy effers was nice enough to tell me about a new film that just came out about walmart titled, "Wal-mart: The High Cost of Low Price". I went with Jordana tonight and we left with about a half hour left.

It wasn't terrible but it wasn't anything I haven't heard before and there was really nothing compelling or powerful about the film. I think I've seen at least 2 things similar which were presented in an hour format. A full length 90 minute film has to be more interesting than that was.

Jordana took what is probably my favorite picture of myself this weekend which I shall share with you:



She took me shopping to get this boy some decent threads. I've been wearing shirts that are way to big and pants that are about 6 inches too large for the past 6 months..so even though I put up quite a fight it was necessary.

Funny together thing. By MPM and SS

Many moons ago there lived a rabid drooling beast named Nerak. Nerak drove a horse and buggy for a living. She always felt out of place among the other drivers because unlike Nerak, they seldom sharpened their fangs upon the street lamps in between rides.

One day Nerak picked up a purple person named Plimpton. Plimpton plowed ponies with a pointy pencil. Upon finding this bit of information out, Nerak promptly told Plimton to please leave her cab. Enraged, Plimpton drew his weapon, a freshly sharpened #2 from his lapel pocket, and began to probe the ponie's anus with the offending utensil. Nerak knew she and her horse were in danger so quickly unleased her flying fangs to do battle with the pointy pencil.

But this isn't a story about a ponie's anus, nor is it a story about pointy pencils, purple people, or tooth sharpening, or even drooling beasts. This is really a tale about my uncle TomTom the man who lives in his 78 volkswagon. The man who, I recently discovered is not in fact my uncle, but my father....and my brother.

Actually no, he's none of those things, he's actually my achilles tendon I mean heel. Just kidding...he's my dad-bro.

the end