HOME
CAST
 

NEXT STRIP: MAY 19TH!!

       
   
   
 
   

15.May.2008
Update Pending....

12.May.2008
FAKE CITIES, part 1 of 2
"They are what you make of them"

While visiting Atlanta, I went to a brunch place called "Sun in my Belly" that was exactly what I want Atlanta to be; a perfect blend of vintage and traditional that makes up the new south. A tall writing desk is converted into a condiment/coffee area, the metal card boxes tucked behind the urns are full of sugar packets, the top shelf lined with glass milk bottles full of candies for decoration and a white paper bag has the word "trash" neatly written on it with a black marker indicating it's new use. Large lit globes hang from the ceiling except for one, which is a bare light bulb and large red letters inexplicably hang on the wall as "boucherie". My 7 years in Atlanta is considered very non-Atlantan to most of my associates; I did not own a car, I lived in a midtown high rise and walked everywhere, even downtown. It's probably the only city where all of this is considered unusual. While visiting, I try not to make comparisons to New York City since it's the last thing my friends want to hear. But the comparisons inevitably pop up from other people; while buying a tie at my favorite vintage store, Lucky Exchange on Ponce de Leon Avenue, a born and bred Atlantan shopgirl who recently returned from a long stint in the big apple told me "I Love Atlanta, it's a fake city, but I love it."

At first glance it feels urban, but you slowly discover it's anything but.I don't want Atlanta to be New York, or Chicago or L.A., but I don't want it to be sprawl, bumper-to-bumper traffic and a new brick and stucco apartment complex (somehow called "lofts") on every corner. Fortunately, my best girlfriend and her fiancee have an adorable townhouse in a new development in Inman Park, one of the five or six only acceptable neighborhoods in Atlanta as far as I'm concerned. And since she's an interior designer, it's like hanging out in a posh movie set. The guest bed is 50 times more comfortable than my own, it's in walking distance to Krog Bar and there's some cutie college boys in the "lofts" across the way. This all makes it easier to go back. in style.

Currently Watching: "Gossip Girl" Episode 14 "The Blair Bitch Project"
Currently Wearing: Multi-colored bandana, Deconstructed black hoodie, American Eagle cargo pants, black Nike cycling gloves (modified).

14.April.2008

NO COMMITMENTS
"Busy, Busy, Busy (yeah right)"

A newly imported Italian recently told me that "The problem with dating in New York, is that it's always a threesome; You, the other person, and New York". I was impressed that he figured it out so quickly; be it a boyfriend, a night out, or a job, everyone seems so afraid that something better will come along, that they don't want to commit to anything. It's why there are so many single gay guys in the city, but everyone complains about not having a boyfriend -- and those who do have boyfriends, are still sleeping with everyone else. The whole way of thinking is why I know so many people that seem to change jobs every 16 months and why I have like a hundred "best friends" that I only see twice a year.

My good friend, Zach once chatised me for expecting a prospective guy to actually pick a day and time within the next week for our date. He thought it was "unrealistic" to expect someone to make that kind of commitment. His last relationship? Three years ago with a Saks window dresser. Angie, thought the opposite, "If someone can't make some kind of time commitment, then you might as well just forget ever seeing them again." She sipped her Cafe Au Lait, "I mean, c'mon, is it really that hard to say "Yeah, I'm free on Tuesday too, let's do something then?!"

Currently watching: "Grapes of Wrath(1940)"
Currently wearing: Blue H&M briefs with a motorcycle pattern

6.April.2008

TASTY MAN MEAT
"Stand a nd deliver"

The host at Stand at University and 12th is the thinnest guy I've ever seen in my life. Not like sickly thin or gaunt, just... narrow, and kind of shapeless. "Jesus" Zach said with a furrowed brow. "I think my dick would break right through that." I couldn't really disagree. I like Stand for three reasons: 1)It's convenient to my train 2)They serve a pretty good cheeseburger and 3)The wait staff is primarily cute guys.

There's Floyd, the adorable bartender, who my good friend, Melanie brings up EVERY fifteen minutes (too bad she'll never act on it). Two server assistants with hipster mullets; one is tall, surly and has muscle-y, tattooed arms and the other is short, kind of soft and has a porn star mustache. There's the buttoned up, faux hawked, Asian floor manager who always got on a tie, vest and sneakers, and my personal favorite, Zac (not to be confused with the above mentioned, Zach), who must be the only guy in the world whose ass actually looks good in stovepipe jeans.

I like to believe that Stand is my "home away from home" neighborhood restaurant, except that it's no where near my home, the staff never seems to notice that I keep returning and if I went there everyday, as my nutritionist points out, I'd chew myself into congestive heart failure.

31.March.2008

VICARIOUS LIVING
"MacBooks, Carrie Bradshaw and Naked Models"

I was beginning to think my weekend would consist of drawing, masturbating and re-runs of 30 Rock on Hulu.com until I got a call from Mitchell, inviting me to come and watch him buy himself a MacBook Air. I agreed, but only if he bought it from the Apple Store in the Meatpacking District. "Why does it matter?" He asked annoyedly. He was already regretting extending me the invitation. "The SoHo one is full of douchebags and the one on 5th Avenue is all tourists." I explained. He humored me, and I met him forty-five minutes later to test how light the machine was and click pointlessly on it's keyboard. "Don't you already have a laptop?" I asked him, "I have three, but this one is for when I'm running around and don't have time to go home." I nodded, as if I didn't think he had more money than he knew what to do with. Our salesguy has spent the previous night at the Black Party, after quickly running over the benefits of Apple Care he spent fifteen minutes talking recounting his evening with us. He wasnít impressed. Shrugging off the whole experience with one non-committal phrase: "Okay, yeah whatever... blah."

Leslie Kaufmanís piece ìChanneling Carrieî in todays New York Times was... typical. It is mainly about how Julia Allison, editor in Large at Star magazine and Carrie Bradshaw emulator cannot seem to make it work, even though she has a popular New York name and a six figure salary. I don't know how this is possible? I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to live like a television character and as much as I would like the life of Ms. Bradshaw, I find itíd be more satisfying taking on the role of Raoul Bova in those old Gap commercials. No apparent job or financial worry; just a trim waist, sleeping in your blue jeans and lots of gratuitous butt shots.

"America's Most Smartest Model" is that sort of bad reality show that you don't really want to end, because you know that eventually they're going to try to make it serious, after they get down to two people and all the idiots are gone. My fascination started when I used to catch the amazing torsos and beautiful faces of it's male models while running on the treadmill at the gym. Now, I'm re-running it through my ITunes and frankly, I think every television show needs this kind of eye candy. It's not good in a Project Runway or even a Top Model kind of way, it's just good because dumb guys are naked.