...and we went to Orchard Bar for Sarah and Karen's party. We got there late and the dance floor was practically empty...save for this dude who was tearing it up in his flip flops! Hahah.
On Sunday afternoon I took the train out to Jersey to hang out with my parents. Here's a picture of the (super-hot stripper-looking) girl that passed out on the train next to me. When we arrived at Dover (which is the last stop on the train) she told me this crazy story about how she lived down at the Jersey Shore but her friend was picking her up in Northeast Jersey and she had lost all her money and phone. I let her borrow my phone and then my Dad & I waited with her on the train platform making (aw-aw-awkward) small talk while we waited for her friend to show up. That is all.
She and her friend wanted to pose for funny pictures with him, but when her friend leaned in for the pic, she slipped and the two of them ended up falling backwards and...
The dude in the green shirt was one of the "actors" in the movie (if you knowwhatimsayin). He spent his pre-scene time getting completely drunk and telling anyone that would listen that he wasn't gay and was just in porno for "the money." (...shots, probably).
And a heartfelt ending. Why, Ricky? WHY? By the way, Brother Lawrence was manning my camera for all of this and I'd like to thank him for taking such great pics.
We also learned something else about Jamaica: no matter where you go, no matter how remote or desolate the place might seem, you will have about eight minutes of "alone time," before a local will appear, seemingly out of nowhere, to try to sell you something. A tour, a bracelet, a boat ride, a snorkeling trip, and if all else fails, a giant bag of weed.
...but two! But, that's ok - by this point Meredith and I had decided to roll with the punches and actually got to meet and hang out with a bunch of locals which isn't usually the case you travel. Besides...
But it only took, yep, you guessed it, about 8 minutes for a local to appear out of the forest and offer us all sorts of services. This time, we took him up on his offer to have his friend take us out on a boat tour of the coast and the Blue Lagoon. We headed to eat lunch and set up a time to meet his friend with the boat after we'd eaten.
The guy who gave us the tour was the nicest man ever. Here he is showing us raw ackee, the national fruit. Ackee looks a lot like an orange pepper - except that it's filled with a poisonous gas (I swear to god I'm not making this up). When it gets ripe, the fruit splits open and the gas escapes making it safe for human consumption.
After dinner I went back to Vana Tom and was greeted by a supercute Russian girl at the desk, Christina. I started asking her about fun things to do in town that night and she told me that most bars and clubs were closed on Monday nights. I asked her if she wanted to head out and join me for a drink, but she told me she had to stay on duty at the desk until 2am. As I was getting ready to head back to my room she suddenly exclaimed, "Actually, you are cute boy! Do you want me to call my single friend Anna and she if she will take you out on the town?" I was like "Yeah, that'd be great!" Anna answered, but she was already in bed for the evening. Anna asked if I was free the next night and I explained that I was taking the ferry to Helsinki to meet two friends but that I'd be back in Tallinn with them later in the week. So with Anna's permission, Christina gave me Anna's number and it was decided that I'd call her when I was back in town and we'd go out.
I hung out with Christina at the desk shooting the shit for awhile and then decided to walk around outside (it had started snowing) to take some pics of the town at night in the snow.
Awwww, yeah. I was totally stoked. It looked like my boring old trip was about to take a turn toward fun with a capital ET (Estonian Teen!). I finished up my emails, and while paying for my coffee I asked the counter girl who seemed to know the group that had slipped me the note, "Which one of the girls is Vitali?" She laughed and said, "Oh, you're not gay? Vitali was the boy who was with those girls." Doh. Tallinn's a typical small town. You drink just one fruity frozen drink in public (it doesn't even matter if it was in a strip club!) and the next thing you know everyone's got you pegged for being a gay! Just my luck! On the upside...
This kid was wasted. He went to sit down in this chair and just totally and completely missed. He landed flat on his tailbone and decided to just stay down. Ouch.
The guy in the black leather jacket was pretty much the drunkest ambulatory person I've ever seen in my life. All throughout the show he wove his way in and out of the audience, jumping around, spilling drinks and either routing for or heckling the band. (He was so drunk it wasn't clear what he was yelling. Just that he was very enthusiastic about whatever it was he was yelling.)
The guy in the Yankees hat was her boyfriend who was moving away with her. Bye guys! Thanks for the shots! (FYI - they kicked off a serious night of drinking that ended up with me throwing up for the first time in like 10 years at 5am! Hahaha).
Afterwards, we went to Baramundi for a couple of drinks and it turns out that one of the bartenders there and her boyfriend both read this site. Read: FREE DRINKS! In a turn of incredibly bad luck though, it turns out that they were there to celebrate leaving the US and going to Australia (I think?). I told you that your pic would make it up here eventually! Hope the move went well!
While waiting for a cab outside, I saw the Moustache (note the use of a capital "M") that Grant's moustache aspires to one day be and I asked its owner if he'd mind letting his moustache pose for a picture with my friend's baby-moustache. He was happy to oblige.
Besides getting some great boob pics at the party, I also won a $20 bet. This girl was talking about the movie Goonies and turned and asked me "Hey, what was the name of the lumpy head guy?" "Sloth," I told her. "Sloth Fratelli." She was like "That's not even close." Anyway, I was positive that it was this his name. We were gonna Google it, but no computers were around. In the end, we decided that we'd walk around the party and ask other party-goers the same question. If at least five other people, unprompted by me, named the lumpy-headed character in question as "Sloth," I'd win $20. If, I couldn't find five partygoers to corraborate, I'd have to pay her $20. Needless to say, I had that shit wrapped up in about three minutes. Here's me with the girl I made the bet with. Hahah. (Just for the record, I'm so right.)
It was funny for like the first 30 seconds (but much like the girl who popped her tits out) this guy just wouldn't quit. And by quit, I mean, let the girl out from under the grate.
In what I'm sure started out as a joke, he'd gotten some girl he knew (at least I hope he knew her!) to lie down under this grate that was in the hallway. (Don't ask me! I don't know what it was doing there, either! Remember, this was in Williamsburg, so unbeknownst to us, the grate was probably a "modern sculpture" that had been donated to "improve the art consciousness of people in building.")
Sketchy Russian Girl came over to get a better view and somehow her top got pulled down in the commotion (exposing her nips!). Needless to say, Jake quickly realized that he wasn't going to be able to forcibly make Grant hook up with him and he and the Russian girl (or maybe she was Czech?) left. (They actually left to go back to Jake's place - my old place on Bowery - where she would make Jake shave off ALL of his body hair with a razor before she'd sleep with him. Oh, and while they were fucking, she wanted to be burned with cigarettes. Hahahahah).
Later that night I got a strange call from Grant urging me to hurry up and come over to his apartment to "rescue him." I got there to find Jake lounging on Grant's couch with some crazy Russian chick who was claiming to be a "ranked poker player in the world" (whatever that means). Jake had brought her over there to try to get her to have a threesome with he and Grant - but Grant was so weirded out by her, that he didn't even want in.
So while Grant was out of the room (probably calling everyone he knew to come over so he'd have an excuse to leave) Jake and this girl started playing poker. If Jake won, she'd have to do "a spitroast" with Jake and Grant. If she won, Jake promised her that he'd "make out with Grant." (Jake promised this without consulting Grant). So right when I arrived, this girl had just finished beating Jake at poker and the girl looks over at Grant and tells Jake "Well, c'mon! Do it!" Grant's like "Do what?" Jake just said "Sorry, dude," and the next thing you know...
Here's us with an elder Klingon. The two people on the left hammed in on our photo opp because they were too scared to ask the other younger Klingon for a photo. (That's how seriously intimidating he was! Other adults were too scared to ask him for a photo! Hahahahah).
...some girl who was in town from London who I met through Myspace. Let's hear it for internet strangers! Wooooo! (I went back through my MySpace mail to try to find her emails, but I think she's since deleted her account and I can't remember her name. Bah).
Holy crap, I'm almost a year behind on this diary and I have no idea who this girl is. Maybe a friend of Tara's from Houston that she put me in touch with? Tara, a little help?
When I came out of the Cassanova on Thursday night there was this dude doing handstands outside so I took I picture of him. He immediately righted himself, ran over to me and said "I'm a performing artist! If you're going to take a picture of me you have to pay me five dollars." After I finished laughing, I explained that was also a performing artist. And then I put on an elaborate mime skit where I paid him five invisible "mime dollars" for his hard work. (Needless to say, I almost got beat up).
Then the stage was cleared and The Raclones got ready to make their big entrance. But not before I managed to snap this awesome picture of Timmy Fifteen here smoking a doober on the street. Hahaha. I'm so telling your mom.
I decided to try to instigate and was like "Hey Mike, you should give your new friend a kiss!" Check him all ballsy bringing the "fuck you" finger out right in front of her face (also make sure to note how my hand is all smooshing his neck as I'm actually trying to get him to kiss her). Hahahah.
a loud, drunk asian girls in a straw party hat showed up and helped liven things up! Fuck yeah! When this girl cornered Mike D. on the stairs he was all like "Hey, this is my friend Brian! He should take some pics of us together!" Then Mike D. raised the bar from the "get a load of this guy" face and went straight for the "serruptitious fuck you fingerpiont." Classy!
We parked the car and started walking over to the party but then we had to stop and wait because Wacky Dad ran into a buddy of his. (Of course these two are friends). Wacky Dad kept telling us that TwirlyStache was some kind of "really important artist" (of comedy facial hair maybe) and suggested that I take a pic of him. I was only too happy to oblige.
...Stevie aka "THE ASS!" Holy shit, remember this guy? (If you don't, go read the story right now). Stevie was out visiting SF for only two days and had just landed when we ran into him. Small world!
...get his mack on with the super-cute girl on the left. He was chatting up a storm and things were going pretty smoothly until around 1am when he opened his backpack and handed me a beer that we'd bought for the party and had been carrying with us. He'd barely gotten off a sip when from out of nowhere one of the giant goony bouncers came up from behind, grabbed him by the neck and was like "HEY! WE DON'T SELL THAT BRAND OF BEER IN HERE....DICKHEAD!" Michael apologized and offered to throw it out, but the bouncer (still holding him by the neck) insisted he leave. Hard to get in a smooth goodbye to the ladies when you're getting tossed out by your neck (literally) by a monster.
Bingo! (Actually, though - it looked really good on him. It was this really comfortable "not trying too hard" mullet. The kind of mullet that Chet Baker would've grown had he lived long enough to get into NASCAR).
We later used said sunroof to take sneaky periscope-style photos trying to get a good shot of the mullet on one of the German tourists that pulled up in the car next to us.
Then late on Sunday night, a super-nice girl Jane (who has a friend in NYC who reads my site and told her that I was moving to SF and didn't know anyone out there....so nice!) invited me to garden party. I was wiped out from walking around all day and I had to get up for work, but I decided to swing by and at least say hi and try to meet some people. By the time I got there, things were winding down, but I did manage to see a GIRLFIGHT on the way out! Check out the double-knee shoulder pin in full-effect. (You know that means that she totally has brothers that she had to learn to defend herself against.
White man dreads, burlap shirt, flowing hemp pants and some sort of hemp-rope utility belt with all sorts of satchels (that like contain "powder or ground unicorn horn") hanging from it. To all of the people that sent me email complaining about the "dirty hippy gifts" that my friends in NYC gave me at my going away party...we rest our case.
After Leigh was done interrogating this girl's friend to make sure he really knew her and this wasn't a rohypnol date rape gone awry, we left our sleeping princess in his good hands.
...clearly the LBJ (that's the Little Baby Jesus to you) had heard our prayers and made this drunk girl pass out on the pavement right outside of the party so we could document my last evening in town with some apropo fanfare! (Thanks for looking out for us, Big Guy).
Then this random British guy (who apparently lives in the building nextdoor to me on Bowery) showed up and wanted to get in on the action all "party boy" style. Nice!
So a little later on in the night, this guy got called up to sing. He took the stage, but Matt accidentally started playing the wrong song. Instead of correcting Matt this (incredibly drunk) guy ripped off his shirt and started screaming along to the song (that he clearly didn't know at all).
Then later that night at Lit I watched this insane man rip up flyers that Leigh had placed on the table and make little prop-up figures that he then preceeded to move around the table in some elaborate fashion. We were going to ask him what he was doing, but we were scared. Very, very scared.
Neil (who, just so you know, is the current Nugget
Eating Champ of the World) leans in to check out to what degree
the guy is passed out. Verdict: Out Fucking Cold.
Ok, ok. I'm sure all of you have probably seen all these
photos already either on the Misshapes site or back when
it appeared in Vice,
but for any of you who may not have see it, here's the story:
I was texting with Dennis
Crowley's little
brother Jonathan on Saturday night
and I invited him and his buddy Neil to Misshapes. They showed
up late night and after vetoing the too-packed dance floor
upstairs, we decided to hang in the back room downstairs
where we discovered this sleeping prince.
Then we decided it was time to play everyone's favorite game: DRUNK GUY JENGA! The rules are simple, each person takes a turn placing any object within reach on the passed out person. If you wake them up, you lose!
After screaming along incoherently into an extra mic during the first half of this couple's duet, homeboy in the green shirt finally managed to wrangle away Shef's mic and hide it on him. Unfazed, Shef decided to make up for his lack of mic by just singing even louder for the remainder of their song.
On the way home, Tinny and I stopped at the totally scary, 24-hour McDonald's in Chinatown so I could get my McChicken on. There was this cute little old Chinese guy passed out in one of the booths and Tinny wanted me to take a picture of her giving him a kiss. I showed her this one and she decided she wanted a better one and motioned for me to give her the camera...
I told him I was taking pictures of people doing "cool things" for a "cool new magazine" and asked if he'd mind posing for some pictures. He was stoked. The only question he asked me was "Should I wear my headphones or leave them off?" "Let's do a few of each, mmmmkay?"
While we were sitting there reading, this dude shows up alone with a duffel bag. He sits down, unzips the bag, and proceeds to construct a two and a half foot-tall hooka...so he can smoke TOBACCO by HIMSELF. Huh? After taking a few sneaky pictures from a distance, Tinny dared me to go over and talk to him and see if I could get him to pose for some pics. It took me a while to wipe the shit-eating grin off my face, but eventually I got my act together and walked over.
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