RAINBOW RINGS AROUND THE MOON

Means witchy time is coming soon.


Turbans are very urban for witches on windy wacky Wednesdays.


This Wanda post is annual for me.

FROM NICO KNOWS BLOG - "YOUR KID IS A CLOWN"

So early John Waters! Always check my wife, Nico - she knows.

LINK: JOSH FINALLY MAKES A MIX FOR US - AND IT HAS "MISS HONEY" IN IT!

NO DOUBT

BASKETBALL IS A VIOLENT SPORT?

I never take pictures of youths, but after the third group of boys came by this poster and acted belligerent as I waited for the bus I was curious. Some groups kicked people in the picture, others cheered, all groups got in play physical fights. One of them in this groups spit (seen below the middle player with the blue arm) on and kicked the image and was then pushed out away, running to the corner laughing while the others did weird stuff to the image jumped on each other.

READING. IN CASE YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN THEY EVEN TRANSLATED FOR YOU

I MANGLE CARCASSES WITH MY BARE HANDS

This is a repulsive blog entry. You have been warned.


It's true. I do. I got hormones running through me and I need the protein I need chickens. Now! I especially like to buy an entire rotisserie chicken and sit across from a vegetarian or vegan at whole foods and pull it apart with my bare hands, chucking the bones in a basket. I close my eyes and breathe deep when I snap that wishbone and always have two awesome options in each hand. Love or sex / sex or spirituality / vapidness or depth - all good. Its a win win situation every time. If they is somes left, I sticks my leftover chickens meat in a container and eat the rest about 35 minutes later, sometimes on the street with some raw broccoli. Floss at home. I'm a growing man I have needs get out of my ways I'm 'eatin CHICKEN!




They have a really expensive latex bodybuilder mask (lashes and all)! Will you buy it for me? It's European you know.

IF YOU ARE GOING TO BUY A CAR BE MINDFUL THAT...

Well, maybe I just noticed silver cars for the first time today.



Oh. Kookoo alert. Most cars are silver in America. Saying that silver is in is like saying that the latest thing in cullery is silver. The latest in silver is silver. It was the stacked silver cars that got me going. Well, when you never leave the city, yellow does appear to be the main color for cars. I mean cabs.


What IS this? I didn't google it. Im scared!

TODAY IS DASARA

The holiday marks the great Hindu God Rama's victory over Ravana in the Ramayana. People do pooja of books, gadgets, vehicles and weapons on this day. It is one of days where every moment is considered auspicious in the Hindu calendar. EVERY MOMENT! Take a moment.

GAZELLE PAULO'S VIDEO COVERAGE OF LEE'S "GOTTA CIGARETTE?"

THANK YOU READERS FOR NOT READING ME

Yes, the haters have ceased commenting. Thank you.


I know that mental illness is sad and not a joke firsthand, but this guy is my favorite. He's always in Chinatown and for years he has sat in the middle of traffic spurting profanity. People stop in crowds horrified, wondering what to do and how to help. He always eventually rows himself backwards with his arms while still on his ass to the curb while swearing. He accosts people with spit and swears regularly and he's really really good at it. He had a bunch of midwestern tourist teeny bopper girls in short shorts paralyzed with terror at the beginning of the summer as he said... well I cant get into it but he uses the word cunt and a whole bunch of other in the best combinations I have ever heard replete with toothless spit and and flapping fish lips. I mean it's brilliant and he draws great crowds. If he was sane enough to just put a little open crumpled hat near himself he would make a fortune. From me.

MY NEW ADDITIONAL BLOG IS COMING - PREPARE YOURSELF.

MATTHEW CAMP

OUT WITH THE OLD IN WITH THE NEW

When a friend becomes more successful I am happy for them. I congratulate them and even I brag about them. I love to see people flourish from their hard work.


Seeing someone acquire new things is wonderful and it's fascinating to watch where the money goes, like seeing a lottery winner as they pick their dreams out from the bounty of material in this world. You see the adrenaline rush going through them, they glow and may even smell a bit different. However, If they aren't careful, they can very quickly become quite gross. Watching the new rich right when they have been given birth to in the very fresh moments of their getting money can be a grotesque and embarrassing sight. It's like someone on drugs.


I won't say she is gross, becuase I love her and she made it her point not to be showy, but it reminds me of a woman who acted much as my godmother growing up. She was striking and looked like Nico but beyond that with a platinum bob, nordic features and white blue almost intrusively penetrating eyes. She was my best friend's mother in first grade and as he and I grew apart after 6th grade I stayed close friends with her and am still. She new I was Gay from day one and has been a great source of childhood information for me as an adult as she was always mortified at my father's handling of me - but those are all very different stories.


She had married a well to do man and they lived in the 50's between Park and Lexington, not West of park however. I'm sure her son being in the school I was in was a part of their upward success, but they were doing quite well by anyone's standards and lived a great life with a house historical landmark country house, so this story of upward mobility comes out of a very exaggerated sense of social ambition on their part. When the husband was promoted to vice president of a gigantic major electronics company the moved to a very large apartment on 5th. Her son eventually went to an Ivy League and she actually got a small island due to a dead uncle.


I have to digress for a moment to say I feel uneasy telling this story as it feels like both a breach of privacy and a demonizing of someone very special and dear, but I am illustrating a point and will continue to do so as this story will never actually expose anyone... As the years passed I saw her yearly for lunch, went to the weekend place with her once as an adult and drank a lot of wine with her. She never dressed in clothes that you could tell were expensive or labels which I always admired (and she was so striking that it was a good idea), but she went on about her associations with dukes and princes and so on and so forth. She did have delusions of grandeur, but I'm sure she also had some realities of it as well. What this story culminates in is one word, one that she used a lot in conversation in recent years and that is 'proletarian'. She was always saying that this and that was so proletarian to no end. She was always totally wonderfully nuts, but now she was imperious as well. She also started only eating gravlax which really concerned me.


That's not to say there wasn't a great deal of warmth to her personality, as well as a shocking intelligence. She did, however, distance herself from things and people that reminded her of her less than illustrious life. When the husband was no longer as filthy rich, they moved to a much smaller 5th Avenue home which she she appeared markedly ashamed to show me. She made fun of herself and all the home accessories she added, as she had always been a minimalist and thought such things were bourgeois (which they are). I don't want to say how things are presently because it's very private and I love her, but needless to say success changes a person and it must be a tough battle for the person moving through the ebb and flow of success and slightly less success. Money will always change you whether you gain or loose it. But I must say that every time I watch someone go through this skyrocketing, if I am lucky or I should say unlucky enough to stick around for it, I always feel myself becoming this phantom like presence to them, a ghost of a personality in the relationships of their life. Things take over. People recede to the background. The great wheel of having and commanding takes over and out of guilt, inklings of compassion or perhaps breaks in narcissism, friendships still stay afloat.


My dear 'godmother' was a jewel nothing like these women above, but today's world abounds with them. All I can say is that when your friends all of a sudden start to make money, be a friend, but stand the fuck back. If you have jealousy, really stand back because it will be bad for everyone and you will actually be more awful a person than you think they are. But if that's not the issue, quietly ignore the social spasm that marches towards you more brash and cluelessly vacuous each time you see them. They are not evil or gross, you are just the same. We are all constantly being beautified as well as disfigured by this machine we are living through.

WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS?

I FINALLY GET THE NERVE TO WALK INTO THE FORMER CBGB'S

The only trace of since becoming John Varvatos was the band stickers, but so many new and lame bands had stuck theirs over them that even that was really weak. I afraid to say that when CBGB was at the point of going under I was so finally in acceptance of the city's dramatic turn over that I was rather complacent and even annoyed at everyone's whining. And now here I am, changed even further, paroozing different subtle varieties of black jeans.

MY PHOTO ON PROJECT RUNWAY BLOG? OK, RIGHT ON.

VAGORIGINAL DIAGRAM

Went to the NYU 'Early Aboriginal Painting of Papunya' gallery show with a friend and spent and hour an a half learning everything I possibly could about these oscillating tribal pieces made up mostly of dots. No pictures allowed. There was a great deal of mythology revolving about 'The old man and his wayward testicles' (!). That and the dream state. I did take this little diagram sketch a Westerner made of one of the paintings that they had framed. This must have been some lady.

I'M NOT THE ONLY MADMAN - FACES IN PLACES BLOG

DYSPORT.COM

For people who are not satisfied with the other treatments. It disses all the other procedures and deports your wrinkles: Dysport. It's very very very new and extremely powerful. It will turn your upper face into a flawless lake...


A brutal typo on a large spa billboard I saw today...

THE METROPOLITAN ON A WEEKDAY - PLAYGROUND FOR THE GAINFULLY UNEMPLOYED

My sleeping pill only puts me out for 12 hours and I can't wake up and take another and go back to bed it's just not right. I'm not depressed anyways. It isn't until early evening that I like to go to the gym and how long can one prepare for that? All your life. In any case, my life has become very carnal and culturally empty and I have neglected the part of my intellect that has absorbed so much knowledge and culture over the years. Good and delightful and intelligent things have seemed sour to me and that means it's truly time to reacquaint myself with learning and the arts as I look into returning to school and furthering my degree.

I love these rooms. They recently redid the upholstery as they were looking 'tired' (their exact words, they actually said that in an interview). I'm very tempted to take a picture of a gorgeous UES marble townhouse and post these pictures along with a description in the Craigslist apartment section and see what kind of roommates apply. The only show they had was Vermeer's 'Milkmaid' which had a huge crowd of old smelly international tourists all around it. Real smelly. The world is in bad shape, not just America. You aren't missing much with this maid, by the way. She looks like a nun and it said that the milk pouring was sensual for the time. How awful that time must have been. I'd take Lady Hennesy's milk over hers any day. I went all over the place as I know the entire museum like the back of my hand ; growing up my mother would regularly try to loose us there and my sister and I have a freakish knowledge of the ground plan. I sniffed at the new American Wing's choice of plastic ferns, checked out the pieces on the statues in the African section and wrapped it up with mumble-chanting 'Om Ba La Mo Ling To Ning Svaha' (Karma erasing mantra - I mean business) to myself 51 times from my laminated wallet chant card in front of a Buddha in the Eastern section much to the approval of a hippie tourist lady. Ah the Metsrupollutan!







Gays carrying on in the panoramic circular Versailles mural. Is panoramic and circular redundant? I don't know. Maybe I'll learn in school. By the way, remember when museums were a swarming place for cruising Gays. Not anymore, thanks to the internet. It's true. Well maybe a few very old Gays but I didn't see anything.


Mm Mm Mm. Tom of Finland made coarse coloring books in comparison to this series of bronze busts of Sherman's Black soldiers. All the nose whittling and jaw implants in the world can't get you this divine mug. You just can't get that.



But can he draw? If I wasn't an insecure artist before, I sure am now. Wow, papa!


I've never been attracted to these boys and they always hang all over me.


Arrrrrrrrrg! No, don't do it girl Arrrrglllllll!



There were some lovely busts (that's the head you know) of the daughters of wealthy patrons in a small show by... some guy. The one above caught the light in one tiny fleck in her right eye that looked like a diamond chip tear and I became very involved with it for a while.


She was my favorite today. I just love huge eyes.


Sorry, I'm low on material lately.