March 2012
24 posts
Merry Leap Year.
Some articles I've contributed to:
Nightclub and Bar Magazine
Gunbar Inks Its Place in Meatpacking District History
San Diego’s Guesthouse Seduces Patrons with High Tech Visuals
Vodka’s VIP Treatment
Gotham Magazine
Making the Rounds
Film and Fashion Get Served
On The Road Again
Fashion Week Moves Ahead
February 2012
33 posts
1 tag
Harvey Danger Farewell Tour Diary Chapter The First
Harvey Danger Farewell Tour Diary Chapter Two
Harvey Danger Farewell Tour Diary Le Troisieme Chapitre
“Warren dangled his bare feet over the streaming water. The clock he sat on was...”
– wrote this maybe two years ago, found folded up in Machiavelli’s The Prince.
In Silver Lake two sunsets veil ten techniques to make the bail I hear it happens every day.
::Geoff Farina::
2 tags
Things I Am On The Fence About
Korean BBQ. According to our waitress, because I am white I wouldn’t like some spicy noodle dish I originally ordered. Apparently only Asians could handle this specific type of noodle.
Sea Turtles, sure.
17th century French decorative arts.
Whitney Houston’s hearse.
“I am going through a sexual identity crisis, which is to say I have a...”
– Jordan Iannucci Jonathan Shepherd, age 18.
4 tags
Haggard Man Pushing a Cart of Empty Bottles at a...
Haggard: You from... eh, New York?
Me: Yes.
Haggard: You know, I read uh, those articles... uh, The New York Post. It's a scary city, man!
Me: You should read some other papers.
Haggard: Their subway system, man, dangerous place!
Me: I'm pretty used to it. The LA metro's sterile look doesn't help all the flashing open pocket knives waived in my face.
Haggard: Ah, that aint shit. People 'ere are just cautious.
Me: :: facetious nod::
Station Attendant: You need somthin' budd-ay?
Haggard: This mother fucker is from New York! I was tellin' him - Oh hey, I hope you enjoy our city, man!
Me: Thanks!
Haggard: Where dat bottle depository? I gotta get rid of this shit before Ol' Dennis finds me.
2 tags
My friends are all extremely talented, but mostly...
NWK to LAX
Six hours and eighteen minutes. Or less. There are some ridiculous looking people on my flight. A blues-styled african american LA hack. A couple moms. Two babes, at least from this distance. Some others. These are the people I may die with. It could go down (pun intended) a few ways, the way i see it. For instance, I may not even die. I may withstand a crippling hurl toward the earth and still...