...and then drew lines into the future trying to guess when the next big price spike would happen and how high the price would go. The price of Bitcoin in December 2015 was $325 and I based on my stupid photoshop comps I predicted that Bitcoin would hit $3,000 by Dec 25th, 2016.
I showed this to a few of my quant-programmer friends who shrugged and told me told me I probably had no idea what I was doing. Hahah.
Much to my own surprise, my prediction ended up being pretty close! The price didn't spike until June of 2017, so it took 18 months instead of 12, but the price did go up 8x to $2,800!
On Thursday, I decided to get my gamble on. After over two years of watching the price of Bitcoin, I had a hunch that it would continue to exhibit fractal growth-patterns (self-repeating at different scale).
Spent Friday using Photoshop to compare previous wave-events in the price of Bitcoin. All my obsessions with fractals finally had some "real-world value" when I decided to make some fractal predictions about the possible future-price of Bitcoin. Back on this particular day, May 8th 2015, Bitcoin was trading at $240 USD. (A little over two years later in August 2017, it's at $4000 USD - almost a 20x increase!)
After almost two years of consulting full-time as Flux Capacity, I finally had worked with enough clients to put together a decent-looking clients page. Photoshop drop-shadow, kapow!
Leigh is the MASTER of photoshopped party invites! Here's her Martha-Stewart-cooking-an-Edie-turkey Thanksgiving Invite! Hahaha. They get better every year!
...this incredible photo op. Hahahah. How fucking scary is photo? Will looks 800 times more like Bad Sensei than I look like Johnny. His resemblance is uncanny! If there had been a lookalike "Daniel-san" in the bar that night, he totally would've shit his pants.
Here's my revision of the piece that Rolling Stone ran about Sparks. Check out the new headline. I think I just may have missed my true calling as a copywriter.
....THIS! Ten minutes of Photoshop magic later, I'd successfully hidden Sarah's identity with a strategically placed "extra can" of Sparks in Karen's hand. Hahahah. While impressed with my skizzills (I mean, you have to admit, it is pretty good), she told me she'd still prefer to run the other one.
...that the flash on my camera caused Jessie's shirt to become transparent (which long-time diary fans will know is not really a new phenomenon. Bonus points for the pierced nip action, digitally enhanced here for your viewing pleasure using the Boobatron-2000 Tittilicious Photoshop filter.
Just when I was about to tell him he was crazy, I looked over at her and saw the resemblance myself (check it out. crazy, right?). I was like "Whoa! You're right, she IS hot!" (Which is also when I realized it would probably be best if Grant drove home).
Check out the bouncer guy in the background, when he saw me getting ready to take a picture of Tookie he quickly jammed his hands in his pocket, leaned back against the wall and pulled one of the best, smoldering "sexy" faces I've ever seen. (Bonus points awarded for that butt-chin).
My goal for the night was to try to get this girl in the white to dance with me. (And then, after we were done dancing, to marry me). She was being carefully watched over by the guy you see on the left so I dispatched Chris to head over and use a little of his fluent Greek magick to try to see if he'd introduce me to her.
By the way, I'd like to take a real quick "time-out" to point out something that Grant noticed: That our friend Kostas Vallassos bears a stunning resemblance to Dr. Robotnik, the bad guy from the seminal, early 90's Sega Genesis videogame, Sonic the Hedgehog.
Here's Grant pretending to read a book while he gets his long-term leer on. Awwww, yeah. (Yo, check out my fancy new camera's PEEP-O-RAMA zoom. Sweet, right?)
If you've ever played Frisbee with Grant, you'd know that he thinks he's Michael Jordan. Seriously. Instead of ever just taking a few steps back to catch the frisbee, he'll stay exactly where he is and try to jump and catch it. Since Grant is 68" tall, the letter "a" here represents approximately 36" (a little more half of his body). The letter "b" represents the approximate reach of Grant's arms outstreched. And the letter "c" represents the remaining 33" of pure vertical leap he'd require to catch the frisbee. Somebody get this kid a trampoline.
After our quick half-time show, we decided to try our luck in one more bar. Upon returning from the bathroom upstairs, Fatty actually managed to capture with his camera the Force Field that was physically preventing all girls from seeing us (nevermind actually letting them get close enough to dance with us). Once he showed us this pic, we knew we'd better just call it a night.
Here's the side by side comparison: The real Ross Martin's on the left and the Ogrified Ross Martin is on the right. If you squint a little, you almost can't tell who's who! Hahahah.
Here are the "Healthy Brain Pills" that can only be procured in Chinatown in a store near my house. Now that Tara's getting up there in years, I decided it would be a crime to risk her not having a healthy brain.
On Tuesday, I met up with Tara for birthday lunch at Cafe Liebowitz on Spring Street. Here she is using her actual ID to legally procure alcohol for the first time ever. Look at lil', mini, sixteen year-old Tara in the corner. Awwww, lil' baby's all growed up!
So it was around this time that we noticed these two (aka - "The Greatest Couple in the World."). He was completely shit-hammered; to the point where his head was all bobbing around like we was on a fucking wagonride on a cobblestone street. And she (as if her matching aqua skirt-outfit wasn't enough) had the biggest belly button jewelry thing I've ever seen. I mean look at that thing - it's like the J-Lo engagement ring of bellybuttons. Anyway, she was really drunk and kept heckling people in between songs, yelling that it was her turn already....we'll get back to these guys later.
Object: Be the first person to correctly match all of the Playas above with the correct set of corresponding Ballz and you'll win a night out drinking with the crew. (Unless you're a dude. Then you win a date with Grant). Think you've got serious bag-matching skillz? Then email me your entry! (brianbattjer AT gmail).
As "last call" drew nearer, we bid the lovely ladies a fond farewell and hit the road to head over to some other bar where Seth and Frank knew the owner (If you look in the background behind my arm you can see Seth showing off the can of beer he snuck out of the bar by strategically hiding it in his asscrack. Sweet.)
Our boring old subway ride back to Manhattan took a serious turn towards fun when we spotted this guy across from us with a toe ring and took turns with the camera seeing who could get the best picture of it with out him catching on. Grant won with this Toetastic pic!Saturday, August 30th
...and immediately perked up when we saw the prize they were offering in one of those "leave your business card" drawings. Makes you think twice about ordering a "glazed" doughnut there, right? Ew.
The Arlene's Grocery Neon Sign is a sight to behold. It even causes nipples to stand on end. (Digitally enlarged 6x for your viewing enjoyment). Yo, we saw this byrdz nippz before Colin and he went on three dates with her. Boo Yah!
Yeah, I know. I fit right in. The only thing I can say in my defense is that this photo was taken way out of context. I wasn't making a Backstreet Boy Face on purpose! In fact, if you look at the original photo from which this headshot was taken you'll see that my expression is actually a....
I knew the competition to earn a slot dancing for the night would be fierce, so I quickly busted out my Photoshop skillz and whipped up two tasty fliers advertising our masculinity that I knew would tantalize those Cake minxes. Here's the first image I sent along...
...and when that didn't get an immediate response, I upped the ante with "beefcake" version (check out Grant's sassy, coy lil' smile! Tee-hee!) ...and SHA-POW! It worked. Grant and I got the green light: we were going to become male strippers.
We decided that if we didn't have an embarrassing picture of Frency,
we'd invent one. So we decided to make Geoff NAMBLA'S Member of the
Year. For those of you not "in the know," NAMBLA is the North
American Man/Boy Love Association.
(No, I'm not kidding.)