teneyckst

CA über alles.

2008-11-14T17:17:00.000-08:00

Recently, I was invited to an advance screening of Milk, the new Gus Van Sant film about gay rights activist and first ever elected gay politician, Harvey Milk. The film was amazing but what i really took away from it was a sadness and disappointment. Not just at the film's storyline which was definitely somber, but, the fact that in this year of 2008, 30 odd years after Harvey Milk was assassinated, 25 years after his assassin walked out of prison for a mere manslaughter charge, and in the same year the first ever black president was elected running on the platform for change, California was still unable to go forward and pass a proposition allowing gay marriage/civil unions.

some of my favorite photos from the summer:

darin hungover on the bus back from baltimore.

Obrycki's blue crabs in b'more: black pepper rub instead of old bay.

prospect park art.

coffee ocean.

heather's pool party at the parent's house.

one attempt at a Tijuana photo shoot.

SADDER DAYS.

2008-05-24T18:58:00.001-07:00

today, the first thing i saw around the corner from my house was this awesome lady waiting for the bus. gentrification is such a gnarly topic of discussion here. i feel like the area is about to explode with anger at all the condos going up but the the irony lies in the young transplants like myself who argue against the gentrification of "our neighborhood." the problem is none of us has a right to say. we all exploit the neighborhood and enjoy the perks that come with the "white-ing up" of this neighborhood. five years ago, my friend was mugged and pistol whipped in this area. now, we all stumble home black out drunk with iphones in our pockets.

after a nice saturday morning ride, dan hart and i ended up at the base of the brooklyn bridge where we stopped and rested amidst the future couples all suited up, stuffy and stiffly posing above the laid down photographers working overtime to get that right amount of majestic bridge in the background. it came as a shock that dan hart had never tasted the wonders of the brooklyn ice cream factory. we finished our chill down with a nice scoop of vanilla chocolate chunk. nothing like finishing a work out with some delicious milkfats.

i don't like mornings or mondays... i don't like mailmen... i just like lasagna. i really wish this fit.

kitchen delight

2008-04-29T18:27:00.000-07:00

jim and darla just moved not too far from me. bushwick and montrose. i'm pretty amped about it. they have an amazing space. i love when they live nearby me. they take such good care of me. i journeyed over to their new pad to check it out the other day and it was immediately "do you want coffee?" and jim puts the kettle on to steep. darla inquires if i am hungry and when i say yes she examines the contents of her fridge, decides what she needs and heads downstairs to the bodega. ten minutes later she's making pressed sandwiches in the skillet and chopping fresh ginger for our smoothies.

then, they blew each other. and i was like what? but i guess they are just open like that. ah, marriage.

p.s. things that have happened lately: someone broke a glass over my head (i am fine), i started to pay back my student loans (yay! growing up?), i've got 37 days no smoking cold turkey, and my tax return is looking like $722 with a $600 rebate. check me out in the bay area this summer!

DAY THREE

2008-02-27T23:36:00.000-08:00

it's pretty mellow, strolling down camden high street. it's genuinely nice out and john, who've named gene after the character in wet hot american summer, decided to stay home because he has a meeting with the masons around two. so, ben and i are taking our time to make each other laugh and enjoy this 'alone' time as it comes so infrequent. it was really nice looking at all the amazing vintage stores. there are a million vintage clothing and record stores there as well as a tons of different eateries. yay! sounds great!!! not really. it's not so much an outdoor market as a swap meet or mall that happens to contain a little sunlight and a few older items. in all fairness, ben bought some awesome old men's magazines and i wanted all these records and jackets and pants but something was seriously off. then, i realized that every record was not on sire or rough trade or warner like it should be. all the covers were slightly incorrect and when i looked at the backs i realized most of these albums never existed outside of theis continent. i believed them mostly to be bootlegs. there were some good records and i eventually picked up a few. i came across a sandie shaw single cover of the smiths "hand in glove" and an awesome copy of the buzzcocks "everybody's happy nowadays." we kept walking through the ridiculous camden, stopping eventually at a pub to have a piss and a pint. it's a flawed logic really: we stop in pubs because we have to pee but we buy another pint we furthurs our necessity of flowing liquids out of us. it's nice having a pint at one p.m. in the UK because most of the pubs have these awesome huge windows that let in a revealing amount of daylight and it doesn't frighten in a way that reminds us that we are having a drink in the middle of the day. no, we are pretty happy about it and sit down to have a pint and do some drawings. i am pretty happy about what i drew in that bar. afterwards, we head back home on a bus and sit up top the double decker bus. i sing the smiths, ben asks me what i am singing, i tell him, and he says whatever i sing out here that he doesn't know he figures is either the smiths or morrissey. back at the hostel, we wait for gene and decide to go for indian food. two years ago, laurette and i picked up some amazing indian on brick lane so that's where we are headed. i begin to feel like real shit along the way, gassy, bloated, and i have yet to shit on the trip at this point so my body is starting to tell me something. it's a bit dodgey when we exit the train and walk to osbourne street where all the many indian places attempt to solicit you in there restaurant in many engaging ways. free drinks, etc. we end up in one that looks packed and aren't offered anything. i could give two shits and do. i shit all over that bathroom. i pee'd out of my ass for a good fiften, twenty minutes before even looking at the menu. back at the table, i am feeling slugish, tired, not hungry. i try to get something down, order water to which the guy gets angry so i change it to a Cobra, large indian beer. i really don't need the beer, the samosas are grossa, and the saag is decent. i fall asleep all the way home on the trains and get in bed around 930 and have a good sleep finally.

DAY TWO

2008-02-25T18:29:00.000-08:00

if you awake at five am it's probably for a couple reasons: one, you mean to wake up that early for work or a jump on the day; two, your friend woke up early and is waking you much too humanly early with his natural goings about. so, you and your colleagues awake hours before continental breakfast and you all wait. you all sit and wait. you ask when breakfast is and the guy at the front desk just says "breakfast time." i was not aware that there was a universal breakfast time in the UK. one of you goes upstairs to shower and the other two of you including the original culprit responsible for early rising head over to hang and hope for mcdonald's to open. the two of you have delicious breakfast sandwiches, hash browns and coffee each. you haven't eaten mickey d's since the last time you were in europe. afterwards, you head to the tate which is great and filled with hot young girls, a pub where you consume sausage sandwiches and pints of fuller's london pride, and hit the outskirts of churches you lack any desire to enter. john keeps ducking into churches you again do not want to go into but before you have any voice in the matter he's disappeared into the dark doorway of another church. ben and i joke about us burning if we enter the church but eventually are forced into stealing john away. one of the churches was bombed by the nazis and revealed upon bombing a part of the bible. ben said "see the nazis were good for something." we hit the steps and wait for john to do whatever inside st. paul's cathedral and then head to another pub to wait for john to go the masonic temple to set up a meeting of minds. we have a few beers, head home, take a nap, chase down a bar recommended us by ben's friend's where there are many young kids, and i do mean kids you only have to be 18 to drink in a bar out here, and as much as i feel old i know the two dudes i am with are even older, they have boddington's on tap, and the juke box is rad and free. this one girl comes up to ben as asks him if he has a "swizzle," he asks "a what?" she says a swizzle and he states his lack of knowledge inre a swizzle and she exclaims OHYOUREAMERICAN! we decide to leave after john somehow overtakes the momentum of the conversation between ben and this girl somehow turning it into a name drop of his bar in brooklyn, the one that is permanently plastered on the back of his tee shirt he wears almost 24-7. she retreats to her friends and we decide to bounce back to piccadilly circus which is basically times square london. we attempt to find this after hours joint marchese recommended me as every bar begins to close in the area. john asks one closing bar for any bar open at this hour and we end up in the UK version of TGIFriday's. it's called O'Neills and you can imagine. it's mostly asians and shitty top 40 songs. i get angry in this cartoon irish pub, have a shot alone and finally get my mates to bail. we end up finding the roxy, marchese's joint, get wasted on two for one beers and head back home with my belligerent friends in 20 pound cab. i attempt to communicate online with a friend back home but the keys on the board feel tiny to me and it takes me way to long to formulate words. i eventually give up. i find john soon after and he is hanging in a van around the back of the hostel, drinking and smoking with five other people. it's hot box central and after half a smoke i feel sick and head upstairs. john kisses some random black girl on the top of her head and she looks confused. back in the room, we find ben face down on the floor, sad and drunk, saying he wants to go home. i talk him down and we all go to bed.

DAY ONE

2008-02-24T19:45:00.000-08:00

sunday I arrived around 8am exhausted from an inability to fall asleep on the flight whilst having two old men to the left and right constantly in my personal space. i hate sitting in the middle and so i slept one whole hour on the flight. we met up with ben at his terminal and then headed into the city. it was easy to find our way in but difficult to maintain our hysteria as the automated female voice on our tube repeated the terminating destination of our tube at cockfosters. laughing ensued on our parts over and again but, for some reason the brits were not equally amused. delirious, we stumbled to our connecting train and made it to our hostel in the swiss cottage area. it's right off the jubilee line which was nice as it helped us get to some off the big sites already. after check in, we headed down to the waterloo stop where i attempted to get ben and john to eat at "fishcoteque" with me. no takers. side note: i am aware that there are many different ways the british say things and i love it so will be documenting some of my favorites i.e. the fruit drink at mickey d's called "fruit shoot." genius. next, we walked across waterloo bridge as the combination of delirium, lack of sleep and sustinance started to take its toll on us. the worst jokes started to become funny as we walked under the shadow of Dirty Dancing the musical, lion king and Buddy, the buddy holly story. i wondered how they pulled off the plane crash scene in the end of the play. we walked to the masonic temple so john could peer in only to have john declare after the fact that "of course they are not open today, it's sunday." we ate fish and chips after all, ben found bones in his and mysteriously stopped touching his fish. i ate mine but started to get paranoid that i had a bone in my throat. the day began to really take it's toll. we walked to get coffee, found a TV in a trash bin and ben said look at that tele in the bin, and i muttered the telebin. you had to be there, for sure. after a cup of coffee that didn't help, we stumbled onto hundreds of "fruit booters" in-lining down charing cross road. we laughed and took photos, then, headed into trafalgar square and eventually the national gallery. saw that anamorphic perspective painting that reveals a skull when you stand to the right. that was cool. some some gilded stuff which ben said more people should "gild." i agree. we walked to buckingham palace where i was literally falling asleep standing up. it was bad, real bad. i bought two red bulls at the tube which also didn't help and began to scare me. we made it to piccadilly circus, found ben's casino, registered, and found out they don't even have hold 'em. an old sickly looking asian dude coughed on me. should i get a TB shot? Bird flu? finally headed back to the hostel, took a nap, had a pint, realized how tired i was and went back to bed around 7pm. i now can't fall back asleep as john's snoring keeps waking me up and i've slept eight hours already. so, i write, i'll smoke a cigarette, watch the sun come up and have breakfast on the house. hopefully more fun and less sleep tomorrow. i am not known for being the party pooper. what's the deal? love, ryandale.

i drew today

2008-01-12T15:44:00.000-08:00

neu yerr's rza-lution iz two drawed more. this was toodaids. get it.
pea. ess. i really love the fiery furnaces alloffasudden.

consider me inspired by the met. imagine that.

2008-01-07T07:58:00.000-08:00

this was called ".jpg" or something and as you can imagine was a tiny photo of the world trade center that was all monet style up close and when you walked back well, you get the idea.

wolfgang tillmans is always inspiring.

i wish i knew who did this. way inspiring.

Welsh Oaks was inspiring.

Bridget Riley was really inspiring.

oh and paige and nicole came to town. it was a nice surprise. i haven't seen them in almost a year. new york welcomed them with 13 degree weather. now, we're watching american gladiators. it's all about the wolf! ooooooo!

ENGLAND BELONGS TO ME

2007-11-15T14:29:00.000-08:00

British airways is flying cheap tickets through the window. Ben and i want to go for our birthdays February 29th and march 2nd respectively. we'll probably go longer than most but if you want to join us in throwing money at ourselves in the strongest strong-conomy in the world, then, feel free to join us drunk for a week. Oi!

In other news, I've started a band in my head. So far band members include one inside joke and me. But, we've already got a few songs thought out and a 7" temporarily designed. who wants to play in a total recall hardcore band with me?

let's give them something to blog about

2007-10-31T08:39:00.001-07:00

Like most mornings when I have a day off, which I've had too many of lately, i start my day with a nice blend of espresso at home. I'm becoming a home body for the first time in my life and it's nice but i get bored easily. so, last Friday a wild hair jumped up my asshole and tickled me onto the Chinatown bus headed for Philadelphia. i got up early for a change, sans hangover, made myself some breakfast and headed out to PA. i had a great time walking around taking photos and getting wet. it rained all day but it didn't bother me. i went to the Delaware and sang songs to the Delaware, about the Delaware. i had a cheese steak from Pat's.

one thing I've noticed about humans is that everyone knows a better place to get cheese steaks. Mohammed the coffee shop owner i spoke to over a cup of joe in Philly told me Pat's. last time i was there a someone else said somewhere else but we ended up at Jim's. and when i got back my buddy john told me i shouldn't have gone to Pat's because Jim's is where it's at. i said I'd remember that next time. after Pat's i continued strolling through Philly, and saw some rad things. this was one of my faves:

the bug rolls.
lastly, i rode the subway over to the Eastern State Penitentiary, which "is considered to be the world's first true penitentiary. Its revolutionary system of incarceration, dubbed the Pennsylvania System, originated and encouraged solitary confinement as a form of rehabilitation. (also) It was widely believed (then and now) to have caused significant mental illness among its prisoners due to its solitary confinement." When i arrived at the prison, it was less daunting then i had expected. i hoped to find a still-operating prison but instead was met with a defunct one now being used as a tourist attraction by day and the residence for a haunted house at night. I passed on the opportunity to take a self-guided audio tour but instead was able to get some freebie fun in the museum adjacent the gift shop. Here is where i got this picture of the violent tools crafted by the inmates themselves. i always admire the ingenuity of a criminal with a limited amount of materials with which to kill. Where there's a will there's a kill.

SLEEP AIDS

2007-10-23T01:59:00.001-07:00

today is day one of my drying out. after a slew of bad hangovers and consistently waking up each afternoon with more bags under my eyes than a Christmas check-in at JFK, I'm taking a break. I'm not sure for how long. i guess it all depends on my own ability to keep myself in check. this photo i took one of the last times i worked at little frankies. i no longer work there cause i drank too much the night before and slept through my shift. i've been feeding the monster inside of me the drink it needs to get drunk and sleep. otherwise i am at this point where i lie down at night and can't sleep. my mind just wanders aimlessly around my sordid history, attempting to change the things i can't change, especially inside my head. so, i drink. i be merry. i go out because the silence in my room is deafening. my room is a tomb. a boring, fucking quiet, dark dungeon-like tomb.

the bridge

2007-10-04T23:39:00.000-07:00

last night i saw a show in brooklyn. the singer kept jutting out his jaw obsessively and the drummer rested his head on his floor tom for extended periods of time. i skated home after all my friends left without me and decided upon arrival at my front door that i wanted a sandwich. so, i pulled my keys out of the door and headed down to the deli. i purchased a pastrami reuben with bacon and a large bottle of water. when i got home i ate the sandwich while watching the first episode of the new season of this show i like that i downloaded illegally. it was a killer episode. then i took a benadryl to sleep because i needed to be up and in the city by 1030am. i was late but only by fifteen or so minutes. i fell asleep repeating a phone number in my head. it was laurette's. on the subway i remembered this dream i had that night, where dave sits me down to tell me things aren't working out in our friendship so i should move out of his house and we should not be friends anymore. i jumped off the bridge and sank awhile. then, i worked fourteen hours at the restaurant. i had a pint of peak and skated over to this place where my friend was supposed to be. she wasn't there even though a dazed carmine said she was. i was inside all of five minutes maybe and on my way out a kid in a scarf puked in front of my feet. i went back to the restaurant and had another beer, felt sleepy but wondered why rich never drank. i wondered if rich didn't smoke weed, too. rich definitely drinks gallons of sweet tea.

2007-09-18T22:23:00.000-07:00

i recently couldn't sleep. so i woke up and called my grandma on a weekday. mind you it's earrrly over there with the three hour time difference. but i know my grandma is up cause she's gettin' ready for work. i talked to her about my grandpa which prompted suggesting i go to ellisisland.org which i had done but couldn't find him. sure enough i found my grandfather. the reason i couldn't find him there was because i didn't know his name. i thought he was named alfredo. turns out his name was carlo alfredo dilisio. he arrived on february 26th, 1920 in new york. he left on his own from the little town of pacentro, near sulmona, headed for the president wilson out of naples when he was 18 years old. he was passenger 22 and he had thirty dollars to his name. i never met him but he was my dad's dad so i've always found myself understandably affected by him. when he finally arrived in los angeles, i'm told that he changed his name because the stuntman's association didn't hire WOPS. my granddad became alan dale. he worked for awhile without insurance before he decided it was too dangerous and opted out. he decided to open an italian restaurant on the sunset strip in hollywood, ca. our family's restaurant sat in the same building that is now the rainbow room. you may remember the rainbow room as the spot guns n' roses frequented in their hey-day. it's where dean martin flirted with my grandma, joe dimaggio went for a blind date with a woman named marilynn monroe, and w.c. fields notoriously stumbled drunk out the door. in the late 60s, the freaks and hippies rallied and raged up and down sunset and my grandfather decided he'd had enough of these weirdos so packed up the joint and left smoking hot in the heads of l.a. foodies. moving south to set up shop on the coast highway proved to be a lucrative decision for the family. at first. then, tragedy struck our family. my grandfather passed on while my dad was 19 and going to college at ucla. it hurt my dad pretty bad and he never really recovered.

i wish i knew more about him. i know i've heard many stories about the man but i had to get a little background. if you ever get the chance go to the website for ellis island and wax nostalgic. grandma if you read this and have an addendum to make to this story, please do.

robert moses again

2007-09-04T12:06:00.000-07:00

so the end of summer is upon us. this was probably my last chance at the beach this summer. now it is time to buckle down and get to work. i have two new jobs now. i was recently hired at the new bowery presents location called the music hall of williamsburg. Patti Smith is my opening night. i'm pretty psyched. to be completely honest i am way more psyched on the tomorrow's against me! show and the black lips show coming up. i will be bartending mondays tuesdays and wednesdays so come check some music out and say hi if i'm there.

also, i start training at lil' frankies on thursday morning. it's a killer italian joint in the lower east side with awesome specials everyday and a great wine list.

life is good right now.

BEACH DAY ON L.I.

2007-08-06T19:44:00.000-07:00

On our way to Robert Moses beach. my first beach day since living here. i went to coney once but it was sketchy.

ONE BIG ASS GULL

the girls layin out.

kristen's sweet ride. i get to dukes of hazzard my way into it when we leave.

coming home.

EAST RIDERS

2007-07-21T20:17:00.000-07:00

the sunset was beautiful along the east river today. we started at the new williamsburg park but the gestapo rolled in and started cracking skulls. i'd say i have a bit of a love-hate relationship with those nazi rangers. so, we finished the evening with the gentle lapping of the river nipping at our feet as we viewed the sun falling out of the sky.

more fun

2007-07-19T10:40:00.000-07:00

greetings from california. i miss the beech. er, beach. sorry. wish you were here.

WINE CUNTRY

2007-07-10T11:25:00.001-07:00

this weekend passed not without some drama. i was whisked away in the night, steadfast and asleep, through darkness cascading hillsides, man-made untouchable lakes, and one dutch haven. it was bachelor party weekend for my friend jim and there were a few of us who mustered the strength to drive a whopping three hours to santa ynez. arriving shortly before seven a.m., matt, jim and myself holed up on the trampoline while awaiting jim's brother's awakening. i was transported to a bed while the three aforementioned dudes reconvened to a cozy cafe known simply as the stella umbrella where stellas were swallowed and coffee was consumed. i awoke somewhere between three and four times in the night, moving from car to trampoline to bed until finally rising to take on the day around eleven. luke, jim's brother was already working on the keg, drinking it and straightening out the kinks. the train started really rolling when the discussion of whether or not the tradition of a bachelor party should remain intact, untarnished by the female voice, and entail a striptease wonder. personally, i'm not a fan of a room full of guys, raging boners, sweat and degradation. as homo-erotic as that sounds, our bachelor party would not be outdone. you don't need whores to have a gay old time. you need guys, spirits, and a little shirtless tom foolery: wrestling, tossing of grown men by grown men into pools, punching, slapping.

Nightfall approached and the hunger set in. The men were growing ever more beastly and the time was upon us to fulfill said obligation to attack our bellies with the flesh of some land monster. i said to myself: "it would have to be burgers, i'd have it no other way; so, we loaded a truck with ingredients and bar-b-queued away." suddenly i was in an olde tyme fairy tale, i guess: "unfortunately, drugs reared their ugly face and to my chagrin were put in my face. it was a golden opportunity and i took jim's advice, i was strong and powerful and i said no, twice."

it was a long day but i managed to pace myself well. drew made the trip up by himself. by the time he arrived, everyone else had done themselves in for the most part so, he was forced into the age-old drinking game known as catch-up. so he did and we ventured out of the house finally. we were ready to take on the wild wild western storefront of the Maverick Saloon. walking through the entrance, all eyes barreling down on us, into us, feeling our hearts and our souls connecting, it was clear we belonged. This bar and our group were a match made in heaven. these people, these country folk, lacquered with after shave that makes the lip curl, and the words drawl; dressed in fabric carrying the colors of painted desserts, sherbets and sorbets, that bury themselves in the high waisted jeans; latched together with leather, boots, and buckles of gods and cowboys, which in some towns means the same thing; they were our soul mates that fateful evening that saw a man in his eighties creep up and attempt to freak college co-eds from behind to the soft sounds of fergalicious.

jim resigned to his sleep deprivation and slipped off into a dark world of consciousness, one usually inhabited by yours truly. it was the first time my eyes laid on jim's in that way, staring off in the distance, warrior style, as someone who's seen some shit, was in The Shit. one young whippersnapper made the unfortunate mistake of looking at jim just one second too long. a finger was directed at him stemming from a hand that was a part of an arm on a body beneath a head of curls that surrounded a mouth forcing out words spelling don't look at me! it was time to go anyhow. we enjoyed out stay, arm wrestling on the bar, getting 86'd and so forth. the cowboys waved as we rode off into the night. they shed a single tear that night and took vows to never forget.

on our walk home, we pissed on mail boxes, screamed at the top of our lungs, and attracted all the attention we could get just shy of any bright young officer's face. garret, a friend of jim's brother, who was already accompanied by a passenger, stopped next to the five of us and warned that if we continued on our walk we would undoubtedly be incarcerated by the local officials. he said that he knew because it happened to him that he was picked up simply for walking in broad daylight which sounded believable to me so, the five of us crammed into the back three seats, matt sprawled across our laps. no one questioned this seating arrangement nor it's illegality, nor the intoxication level of nice-guy driver garret. soon as we were back on the ranch, jim dove into a mattress made of virgins' hands, lulling instantaneously into a realm of soft lighting and obscure sexual references. we tucked him in and sent him down his surreal river.

a party ensued but being on new york time i kept close watch on my watch and the couch. the minute i noticed the couch open its arms to me, i crawled in between its stains and loving limbs, and put on a somnambulist mask.

sunday morning was less gang busters, more sunday. it was a slow roll out of bed and a calm ride to the longhorn cafe, the greasy spoon proud of its lack of vegetables, where alrick, the viking drunkard, touched the precious belly of our impregnated watiress. we were sent spiraling into his awkward dementia as he demanded avocados where there were none. our waitress quickly threw down the kibosh on his declarations, corralling him back into his cage, and our meal went well the rest of the time we were there. we did a little yard work before making our way down the path to a few of the vineyards nearby. we tasted some good wines, ending up in the reserve and library area of sunstone, and the bar at kalyra. it was a good buzz on a golden day. i picked up a bottle of wine and returned to the the sun batting sweet eyelash kisses at us, seducing us as we lay in the plum droppings that littered the long grass in the front yard.

the night fizzled as went went for night swims and dips in the jacuzzi. i ended up falling asleep making social commentaries about howard the duck with drew. around three am my phone rang and i spent the next three hours in a dream.

YOU CAME THROUGH, MAN - THE WEATHER DID NOT

2007-06-29T13:41:00.000-07:00

Dave and i work with this guy eddie. his wife works for the mets. they got us tickets.

dave, myself, joanne, her friend, kristin, and my new roommate chris who was on his way home from work while we were walking to the train and we convinced him to join us. it wasn't much to convince him. turns out the guy is a diehard mets fan since his youth.

the seats were amazing. my first game at shea stadium and my first new york ball game. we sat in the field section. the gods were dropping gobs of piss on us so there was a rain delay. But, they stopped weeping long enough for us to catch a few innings.

this was our popcorn friend. we called him pop hawk. you had to be there i guess.

basically, big momma brought the thunder. i got some video of it. the trash from the stadium started collecting in the air and spinning above the crowd in circles befores settling on the field. we knew the game was doomed.

the rain returned. the game was called. six innings. everybody saw a home run except me. but i had a great time, saw glavine get a win with the mets, and then we had to make a break for it.

SO I BOLTED AND LOOK WHAT THAT GOT ME - WET THAT'S WHAT.

(thanks, eddie and wife.)

A HOUSE IS FINALLY A HOME

2007-06-26T18:18:00.001-07:00

THAT'S MY NEW BIKE / DON'T HATE

ALSO: THE DESK ON THE RIGHT DAVE HELPED ME PUT TOGETHER. IT SPANS THE ENTIRETY OF MY SIXTEEN FEET OF ROOM. IT'S SINGLEY SOLID.

I BUILT A BOOK CASE.

I BUILT A BED PLATFORM WITH DAVE AND JUSTIN.

FREE MATTRESS.

FREE FUTON THAT'S NOW A COUCH IN MY ROOM.

FREE CARPET FROM WORK CAUSE THE TILE GETS ICE COLD.

THE BIKE WAS DEFINITELY NOT FREE.

NEW PARK + WORK

2007-06-22T08:55:00.000-07:00

here's the "25" our team assembled celebrating the 25th birthday of diet coke. i spent some time screwing it.

joanne and her friends, ashley and holly, jude the day after some dude spiked his beer with two hits of LSD, and dave at the new park in williamsburg. it's on the water.

SEE

i made this bowstaff out of an old TV table. it gives me powers.

GOOD APPETITE

2007-06-09T11:09:00.000-07:00

dave mentioned the cook look. i made it happen. there was the indian, the sailor; now, the cook.

heather and i went to dinner at diner. they sat us pretty quickly outside even though it looked like rain. we expressed cautionary disinterest in the patio and they accomodated us by rolling out the awning over our table. the water is served in non-descript green glass bottles and is served on the table for the remainder of the meal. i like being in control of my fluids. i'd rather refill myself than constantly have awkward interactions with the busboy. not that it's awkward talking to the help but... so, we order cocktails. i wanted wine especially after our waitress proved her immense knowledge of the list. i panicked and ended up with this tequila, grapefruit and lime drink that came in a slender flute. it made me feel pretty femme. so, i sucked it down and ordered a Chimay in time for entrées.

Appetizers: cold asparagus soup, battered and fried soft shell crab cakes.

we decided the soup was boring. nothing popped. just oily, grassy, cold soup. heather added a brick of salt. i added lemon. that should tell you something.

the crab cakes were legitimate. my first experience with soft shell crab but hands down the most delicious crustacean. it was served with capers, greens and a tarter that was light and refreshing.

we ordered some pan-fried spring onions to come with dinner but they came between our dishes so we dug in. the were served with romesco sauce, which is of Spanish origin; red pepper or roasted tomatoes, bread, blanched almonds, garlic, tomato, olive oil, salt, pepper. good stuff basically.

my whole fish hit the table and knocked me back. it was so simple: pan-roasted, herb stuffed with rosemary, thyme, and lemon rounds. the scales had formed into encrusted texture and crackled on the palette in each bite without ever feeling over cooked. the fish melted on the tongue and more importantly pulled away from the bones with ease. the served it with a side of mushrooms that i felt unnecessary and took away from the main dish. western culture focuses too much on satisfying with multiple sides for balance. if you serve a fish whole like that, then let that animal by bold and stand alone.

H had the fried pork tenderloin. now, i'm not going to say i was jealous. i loved my meal. but, that pig further locked my beliefs that pork is the most delicious meat. what is behind the skin of those beasts is certainly "god's gift" to "man's mouth."

the bill was lower than i expected. 119 dollars. not bad. definitely a good place to take a date. next time though it should be someone who's pants i want to be inside of.

COLLAGE

2007-05-31T13:15:00.000-07:00

finally vulture cock 2

2007-05-31T12:04:00.001-07:00

The end of purchase went like so: i ended up in fisticuffs with some dude at this girl jenny's house. jenny was putting us up for the night and hosted an after-party. i mean, everyone in her quad was hosting some sort of shindig so it was inevitable for everyone to come through her apt. it was just that sort of college run-off situation. anyways, i have my head in the fridge already pretty inebriated, rummaging for the beer we brought or else some other form of libation when this kid taps me on the shoulder and tells me to give him a beer. i tell him there aren't any to which he replies well, just give me that bottle of white wine. i hand him the jug of chardonnay, stick my head back in the fridge when i hear you aren't you cory? and i just say yes without thinking cause all i want is a beer to keep the party rolling. well, right after i confirm my identity as being cory i feel a fist collide with the back of my head and left ear. at this point, i just turn around and start swinging. the fight doesn't last long. no fights do. but, i guess some people were steaming about the one on one fight that my combatant and i were engaged in because there were suddenly talks in the air about jumping me. however, the fire fizzled, the guy left and took his entourage with him. this is where it gets bad: the guy i fought turns out to be jenny's boyfriend. now, keep in mind the guy her boyfriend just fought happens to be staying at his girlfriend's house.

the next morning we come to find out that the infamous "CORY" is a case of mistaken identity. cory is some dude who took off his pants and climbed into bed with jenny and her man the night of some past party. so, when i said yes to cory i brought on something i knew nothing about. but, i will say this: i'd have done the same thing in his situation. in summation, we cleared the air generally had ourselves one hell of a time. BELOW: the member of the BDC, or big dog clique, that i battled with and got "doafed" with, a term his clique came up with for crunked or drunk.

epilogue: i met this guy diego who was friends erika and adam from school. diego was this really nice, close talking colombian who bordered on being creepy as hell, who was also in a fight the night prior. he met up later with his belligerent fighter.

WATCH

HERE ARE SOME OF MY FAVORITE PHOTOS:

WHEW! what a weekend: slick rick finished us off and we boarded a bus and a train and headed on home.

dreams

2007-05-29T16:50:00.001-07:00

i dropped my 400 dollar camera. now i have to send it to canon. out of comish for a while. so bogus.

last night i dreamed my friends from CA were here for halloween. Dave and i just got off work and i found a joint on the street smoked it but then realized i had to finish the event stoned.

We met up with our buddies and went to the Wu Tang Clan's House that they'd purchased and renovated in Coney Island with slides and fun house mirrors. My friend aaron was psyched on his Ghostface Killah sighting but then i informed him that all the Wu guys were around cause their house was over there.

MEAT THE CREW

2007-05-25T17:49:00.000-07:00

Meet John. He's my bar mentor.

Things you should know about him: wrote a hit opera, bar owner, single, free mason, loves long walks, meat and wine, candlelit dinners.

He took us to dine at Peter Luger Steakhouse, arguably the best in NYC.

He performed a miracle. He gave us the wine to taste it.

We ordered this amazing bacon above. It's three quarters of an inch thick. Positively delightful.

Two beatific slabs of succulent steak were forked individually onto our plates.

It's strange but they gave us breasts for dessert. They should change their name to Meat Palace.

Here we have Heather, my wonderful roommate on the left who secured my position at the bar, Meaghan, and John Candid. Unfortunately, Reginald was unable to attend our mastication ceremony and I somehow ended up sans photos of Tom. But, Thomas is always down to ham up the camera.

Wow, that was a great meal. Now, let's take all those wonderful tastes and mix them with rum, limes, and coffee ground. Yay!

2007-05-11T16:31:00.000-07:00

STINGRAY FIN: dried pineapple, beef jerky, and the belly of a pier. ALSO: they serve it with a side of plain mayonaisse. It's tough, fishy and causes more gag reflex than most prisons.

RIDE OR DIE

NOT FAT OKAY JEEZ

INTERESTING DRUGS

2007-05-10T22:54:00.000-07:00

WOW!!

BATHANDBODY

Vulture Cock Pt. One

2007-05-05T08:57:00.000-07:00

Two weekends ago we decided to road trip up to the SUNY/Purchase campus for the Culture Shock Festival. Some good bands had played in recent history and there were definite rumors floating around that the likes of Clipse were to play. I found out however that Mission of Burma was on board as well as Girl Talk and best of all Slick Rick. I couldn't believe my eyes when I read it but i hoped for the best, gave six dollars to the train, and ran my ass off to make the express north.

When we arrived, Erica quickly swindled a ride for the four of us. We squished into his guy's friend's car, picked up beer and were swiftly dropped on campus.

We drank endlessly... ah, college. "zee beer tent"...

There was this guy who put so much work into this college music festival I almost feel bad about stealing his dick and wearing it like a champ.

W8 WHUT?

I didn't pay any attention to Mission of Burma. Girl Talk was club mash up nonsense. Are people really into this? I mean, I liked songs he played but only in original format. not Lil' Kim with the verve. weird.

creepy...

dave took up the role of house painter. he gave this guy some soul.
the face paint was everywhere. you'll see. TBC...

workaholic

2007-04-28T19:10:00.000-07:00

This white dude was on the g train the other morning. He was actually a black lady. Early mornings are rough.

I work out in Carroll Gardens off the Smith and 9th stop. For David Stark Design. This is my boss Emily. She called me a kiss ass and a god send. I respect both of those sentiments.

She rules.

Corrie is cool. Dave calls her Cody Chestnut.

I've worked somewhere around 70 hours this week. Including the bar on sunday. It starts over monday. Remember that song everybody's working for the weekend? I don't.