Here’s a closer look at life in NY.

Where the magic happens.

HP Unattended.

4E, you have mail.

There’s a hole in the stairs between the third and fourth floor. My roommate Lyssa has really nice eyes.

Craig Murphey, my other roommate, is so gangster.

Fuck sleeves, he’s working on socks.

Warm socks.

Puerto Rico, HO!

It doesn’t taste like anything.

The Bagel Store has the best name in addition to the best bagels. Chocolate chip and salt. Mmmmmm.

Dumpling House is my number one right now. Eight veggie dumplings for two bucks.

And the sesame pancakes are only a buck twenty-five.

That describes Francis more or less. But if he crossed his fingers to spell “dink”, it’d be spot on. I kid; he’s sensitive.

We hold it down on the Bedford Ave stoop.

There’s a DeLorean for sale in Patrick’s driveway. $16,500. One trip to Atlantic City and it could be all mine.

I don’t chew gum. It’s bad karma.

Cocktails by Cameron.

Malcolm McLaren invented the Sex Pistols.

The Lightning Bolt show was madness.

You woulda thought Genesis Reunion was onstage or something.

Then the fire department showed up.

Trackstar X DQM X BMX X trackbikes.

I was a bike messenger once.

Autumn bowl in winter.

Shredding music.

This winged guy caught some light. See? It’s in the details.

Cameron Cuchulainn is the definition of a dear friend. When he goes out of his way to give you a ride, he always opens your car door. He knows the first and last name and high school and hometown of every friend, friend of friend, acquaintance, and bum in a fifteen mile vicinity. He really does care. For some silly reason, I left this special human being by the wayside when I moved to Brooklyn. To my heart’s delight, he’s coming to visit. In honor of Cameron’s visit, this is Cameron revisited (i.e. I got film back).

And if Cameron has ever left you a phone message, consider yourself very lucky. Here’s an animation I made with one of my favorite Cameron voicemails.

Looking forward to your visit, homie.