Monthly Archives: November 2010

For obvious reasons, this was my least favorite night club in South Beach

(Miami, Florida)

Instead of the classic “shoplifters will be prosecuted” sign, this bookstore in Brooklyn tried a different approach

(Brooklyn, New York)

After a big Thanksgiving dinner, my friends and I played games and enjoyed each other’s company by a nice warm fire on DVD

(Harlem, NYC)

This sign was at my gym in Queens today. If this man needs an assistant, they will have to make a whole new sign now.

(Astoria, NY)

This is one of the production trucks for a commercial we were shooting the other day

This is what happens when you have productions assistants who are both creative and bored out of their minds.

(New York, New York)

Today is my birthday! I’m taking it easy this year. Here’s why….

About five minutes outside of Las Vegas is a stunning rock climbing area called Red Rocks. My friends and I usually spend about ten days there every November, most of which consist of waking up at 4am, hiking a couple hours by headlamp, climbing about a thousand vertical feet, rappelling by headlamp, hiking back in the dark, shoving some dinner in our mouths, and going to bed so we can wake up at 4am and do it all over again.

On my birthday last year, though, things went a little differntly…..

I was feeling a little down about getting older, so I hid out and felt sorry for myself in my secret nook. Then, out of nowhere, this hunky climber dude showed up.

Boy did I perk up!

When I told him it was my birthday, he insisted that I hang out with him and his climber friends for the evening.

I thought he was taking me to his campground. Nope. A casino.

Hot guy and his buddies took me to play one of my favorite games – BINGO!

After we bought our dopplers out of the vending machine

we picked our table. The first five minutes were soooo much fun

Then we realized BINGO is freak’n stressful.

I still can’t believe not a single one of us got a BINGO in two hours.

We were all a bit disappointed.

Hot guy got to thinking, though…these dopplers sure would make great markers

so we had an arts and craft session instead

(I’m a sore loser)

My new friends weren’t though.

One of the dudes had his ex-girlfriend on his mind.

Bob made this mask to cheer me up.

It actually worked! So I started drawing pictures of my favorite things.

After a long night of beer, intense BINGO, and arts and crafts, we were pooped.

The guy hung up on his ex-girlfriend wanted to lay down for his nap.

When we all woke up, we found green shirt guy hadn’t slept much. Idle time is the unruly climber’s advocat.

He had a plan. And like idiots, we followed him.

We couldn’t figure out why he put on his gloves

until he started stealing stuff. First it was cigarettes

then jewelry

then money from the slot machines. He figured out some crazy way of beating the slot machines, kind of like Rain Man.

When he was done stealing stuff, he did what all climbers impulsively want to do – climbing things

like the walls

and the fancy brass barrier thingies

While all this was going on, the Love-sick guy drank himself into a blackout and attacked me. Apparently I look just like his ex.

Bob and Hot Guy came to my rescue.

Even climber chick went after him.

Of course I was upset, but I hadn’t meant for things to get this out of hand. I tried talking some sense into them, but it was no use.

Before I knew it, they’d chased each other into the parking garage of the casino and began a full-on doppler war.

Hot guy kicked some ass, as expected.

When it was all over, Love-sick guy and Green shirt guy were nowhere to be found. Until we came across one of his gloves and some piss that is.

He was on the other side of this car, employing the military surrender tactic called “possum.”

We eventually found Love-sick guy

leaning against some stranger’s car,

drawing naked pictures of his ex on the cement.

After everyone hugged it out, we finally got in the car and made our way back to their camp and went to bed.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of Bob brushing his teeth and possum guy playing “Sweet Surrender,” by Sarah McLaughlin

Lover-sick was inspired to sing a song about his ex-girlfriend, so he made a guitar. That’s right, he made a guitar out of wire, wood, and a Santa Clause cookie container

This put possum guy in a bad mood for the day. He doesn’t like people being better than him at things.

We got a late start that morning due to the hangovers and injuries from the previous night.

At first it seemed like it was gonna be a chill day at the climbing crag, but that wasn’t the case at all. Out of nowhere possum guy attacked me! We’d all thrown our doplers away the night before during our peace treaty. He must have dug his out of the trash. What a jerk!

Unfortunately, no one came to save me this time. Hot guy was too busy sitting on a rock, looking all hot.

Love-sick guy was singing too loud to hear my screams

and Bob was too far away

taking a piss

Possum guy didn’t just go for face shots this time. He went for my neck

and any area with exposed skin

When climber chick came to my rescue, he went after her too

He had pretty amazing aim, I must say.

With no help whatsoever from the guys, we kicked possum guy’s ass.

And threw him off the cliff. Then we got back to climbing.

It was the most exciting birthday ever. But not because of the stuff that happened above.

No, it was the piss I took while hanging off a 1,300 foot rock wall later that day.

By the way, all of these people are my friends and all of them are amazing. Hopefully you know this, but parts of this story are make-believe.

(NY, NY)

for blockbusters and Christmas shows.

aaaaand penises.

Of course Cher would get a penis drawn on her, but the rockettes?

And Santa?

I think they went a little too far giving that girl not one but two penises. And in her nose of all places?

(NYC, NY)

Yesterday I was peacefully minding my business on the subway when this disgruntled sheppard-looking man came into our car. He dramatically walked up and down the aile, beating his stick on the ground with each step and mumbling aggressive jibberish under his breath. We did what New Yorkers do best – hid how annoyed and frightened we were by pretending he didn’t exist. After he passed by, the guy across from me and and I locked eyes and broke out in huge smiles. How could you not laugh at the absurdity of the situation? Just then, though, the angry sheppard man turned around and caught my partner-in-crime smiling. “Yeah, everything’s real funny,” he yelled “UNTIL I KILL YOU.” Point taken. We stopped smiling… until he turned his back that is. It soon became a game, like that one you play in school where you’re trying really hard not to get caught laughing in class by the teacher.

Now this might sound crazy, but moments like these are what make me love this city. Most places don’t have countless opportunities to bond with total a strangers over a death threat from a psycho.

And yes, I’m an idiot for taking a picture of the guy who threatened to kill me.

I saw this sign in High Falls, New York one day. I wasn’t sure what organic “style” meant, but apples are my fav, so I stopped.

I’m pretty sure I was the only customer at the orchard that day.

I couldn’t even find an employee to help me, so I decided to wander around for awhile. Everything at the orchard was marked with signs.

Since this place was clearly run by a bunch of hippies, I’m guessing they were getting stoned in the barn or something.

The only sign of human life at all was an abandoned car, which looked liked it’d been sitting there for quite some time, given the decaying basketball on the roof

and the mangled teddy bear in the front seat.

I followed the sign around back

where I came across even more random signs

The owners must have been stoned, for the average person doesn’t find someone’s old rusty mower all that interesting.

Eventually, I came across a sign that had something to do with apple-picking.

I wonder how much money they save on labor at this place.

I paid my money like an honest consumer and got to it.

I had no idea apple picking could be so hard. Or boring.

Just when I’d had enough picking with such an awkward device,

I saw this sign

These apples weren’t organic! The tractor was organic. Well, that explains what the phrase “organic style apples” meant.

Organic or not, they were delicious!

In all seriousness, though, these apples are fabulous, cheap, and way better for the environment. You don’t have to pick them yourself either. Support your local farmers, even if you never meet them because they’re off hitting the pipe in the barn.