Remember when network television sucked and everything that was worth watching was on cable? Well, I save $40 a month because thankfully in the last five years, the tide has turned. 30 Rock, The Office, Modern Family, and Parks and Recreation make up the core of my ‘TV time.’ This year I’ll be adding three more promising new shows to that list. I encourage you to check out the trailers…
Soul Coughing - Screenwriter’s Blues 1994 (get it)
Since I’ve been working at the coffee shop, this song has played off my iPod on random more than normal. I look at all the faces, bathed in the glow of their laptops, and wonder if they’re listing. I wonder if they hear it, and get the joke. Or if they’ve just come to Los Angeles to fuck a model and go to Reseda to die.
As I type this, I realize it is 5am in Los Angeles. And, I hope I’m getting the joke.
“I was having a serious text conversation about love or God or whatever…”
“I always seem to get my keys back by having them thrown in my face.”
The burger at Square One Dining. East Hollywood, CA
“If you’re dating someone physically attractive, close your eyes for a few moments while they talk, and really listen. Still interested?”
Sunday driver. Hollywood, CA
The greatest runway is the street. And, the New York Times “Eye on the Street” is Bill Cunningham.
Recently featured in a documentary, Cunningham is my favorite type of fashion photographer; he photographs what is. What people are actually wearing now. He goes to the shows, attends the parties, and perches like a bird watcher, patiently waiting on Manhattan’s busiest corners to catch some spectacular burst of color or shape among the dinge and grey. An egalitarian, Bill offers the same space in front of the lens and on the page to both socialite and bag lady. All without judgement.
To him, beauty is beauty is beauty.
If you get the chance, see Bill Cunningham New York. It might open your eyes a little wider.
On that note, here is a picture of me and Bill Cunningham with his eyes closed.
Lincoln Center, NYC
Chris. East Hollywood, CA
“There are four things we women want from a man: courage, class, compassion, and conviction. (And as a bonus: cash or cock) You got those, and there’ll be no shit.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t want to see your hub-dub’s man-junk.”
“I wanna gay-marry avocado.”
“Here is what I suspect my face signifies to other Americans: an invisible person, barely distinguishable from a mass of faces that resemble it. A conspicuous person standing apart from the crowd and yet devoid of any individuality. An icon of so much that the culture pretends to honor but that it in fact patronizes and exploits. Not just people “who are good at math” and play the violin, but a mass of stifled, repressed, abused, conformist quasi-robots who simply do not matter, socially or culturally.”
“HE CLIMBED, jumped from branch to branch, then onto the roof. He hopped to the skylight over the kitchen table, slid spread-eagled on the glass until he was directly above the family eating pizza. Salivating, he gazed at the mushrooms and pepperoni, the oozing cheese, until his shadow caused the mother to look up. She screamed and he ran back to the tree. His wife greeted him with an acorn. “Tom, you’ve got to stop.”
Jump. Hollywood, CA
Jump. San Diego, CA
…that one time when Quincy Jones and Usher came to STOMP. They were so kind, while keeping a safe distance from the creepy guy in the green vest with the molestache.
There are harder things to quit than smoking.
Ladies and Gentlemen: John Angeles.
Batman wants to grow up to be him.
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
pic by Vivian Maier
