under the sea

The Mermaid Parade was last weekend at Coney Island. It was pretty
bananas.

folk stories


We got a cat baby. It’s all scraped up and sticks to things like velcro. But rather than naming it Scrapie Doo or Velco, it’s called Jasper.


Kelsey again. She’s pretty photogenic but don’t call her goth.


Studio B.


This is Cholo and he was living right by Mama’s in the East Village. For some reason, unintelligible to me, he was ousted from the basement apartment he rented for free. With nothing else to do, he moved all his belongings onto the sidewalk. Just behind him is his home and across the street is is office. Everything was continually rummaged through until one day we didn’t see Cholo and the neighbors thought he was dead. We found out later that he was in jail and all his things were thrown in a garbage truck. Hard luck.


I went to 538 last weekend. They’re close over there.


Charles broke his board this try for a hallway tre.


Samantha and Maria got married and celebrated with Miller Lite.


Dan Cain’s band Dear Tonight played. But I missed them. Next time, fellas.


Samuel, TYJK and Maricua bringing down the house.


These are 538 stragglers.


I think this kid’s name was Jake but he was even harder to understand than Cholo. He was riding his bike wasted and hit a pothole. The only thing he’s eaten in three weeks has been grits and soup. I think the busted tooth makes it easier to get thicker liquids down.


On the weekend we rode out to Roosevelt Island, a sliver of land between Queens and Manhattan. But the Roosevelt Island Bridge claimed both Francis and I as casualities.


Roosevelt Island used to be called Welfare Island and is home to a large population of paraplegics and amputees, including Jose on the right. Jose, who I also couldn’t understand so well (is there something wrong with my hearing?), used to drink too much and somehow got gangrene. Now he hangs out in the sun on his stretcher where he can fall asleep anytime and always wears a smile.


At the southern tip of Roosevelt Island is an abandoned castle turned hospital. We were there for an acoustic show that Todd P puts on, but this was far more interesting.


It’s falling apart but in that charming way.


This was the first time I really hung out with Brett Land. He’s a good vibe.


Fifteen foot trees grow where patients used to sleep.


Just throw a sheet on it and you’re good.


The life of an explorer.


These are pollo flavored peeps.


Such a good idea.


Don’t you just want a janky cruiser?


The show. Not as good right?


These wacky drummer kids did a call and response thing that included throwing drumsticks at each other.


This is why you bring Brett Land everywhere you go.


And Charles is not one to be outdone.


We went to McCarren for the rest of the evening. The band played the soundtrack to the kickball games including a Biz Markie cover.


Brett Nelson has some hippy blood. Check out those moves.


Hotfoot.


Danilo lives here now. I live a more inspired life these days.


Francis too this. I’m guessing he was trying to use the light of the cellphone to autofocus the camera.


This is so sweet that I’m getting acid reflux.


Ended up on a roof in DUMBO.


Manhattan Bridge. No Golden Gate but not bad.


This just happened. I wish I had the story for you but all I saw was two firetrucks rush to the building across the street from mine. A fireman quickly climbed a ladder to the roof and they packed up everything and left. No smoke, no victims, no cats in a tree. NYFD dry humping.


Lesley Arfin compiled a book of her Dear Diary columns from Vice and they had a rager to celebrate.


Since she grew up a JAP, they decided to throw her another bat mitzvah, which included plently of balloons and a caricature artist among other things. So bump this Rod and enjoy the party.


He’Brew.


Yarmulkes for all.


He’s just a puppet. See what women will do?


Craig Murphey got his picture made.


I didn’t know the short bus went all the way to the Lower East Side. I mean, I love Dana.


I don’t know what’s cuter, real Emily or illustrated one.


For obvious reasons I tried to small talk this girl and she called bullshit right after “so is that a cool neighborhood?”.


Yes, these are the same dudes kissing from the last party. And yes, you could call them an item.


These are my girls and they will break your heart.


Kelsey is my downstairs neighbor, which fulfills many fantasies.


Adrianne used to be her roommate before she abandoned us.


And this cutie pie is my roommate. She probably learned this from Mr. Wizard who incidentally passed away this week. There goes science.


So psyched.


Alex Porta just got back from Italy. He was very happy to be home.


James is the loveable new intern that never comes into the office.


He’s basically just Beckles’s bitch.


More interns. It’s a good looking office.


Ben Ritter is gonna teach me lighting one day.


Come dance with me.


A tiff amongst friends.


A tiff amongst roomies.


Meredith paid $3500 to meet Michael Jackson.


Amy played Bob Seger’s “Night Moves” before I even had time to request it.


Tender is the night.


Lissy Trullie cut her hair and makes such good music.


Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese! Caricature artists have it rough compared to photographers.


Moose and Joel Tudor. The shakas are okay because they surf.


Looks like the stripes are stars.


Remember this part from your bat mitzvah?


Bnels.


Hey, wanna dance? Go for it.


You’d think Bauhaus was playing but it was really “stilettos…pumps…in…da…club.”


And if the last one wasn’t sexy enough.


Remember that Pearl Jam video where Eddie Vedder jumped off the balcony and crowd surfed? That was so rad.


The sisters Arfin.


Gavin gets sloppy.


David doesn’t swing that way.


Or does he? Ben Cho & David Cross 4eva!


This is what they thought of it.


LYLAS.


Ryan Duffy is still thinking about that man fucking that donkey.


Woodrow was concerned that his head would look too round so we thought the balloon would offset that effect.


San Francisco runs tings.


I’ve never met Ako or Atiba before. Nice guys that keep The Skateboard Mag looking good.


Yup.


Hmmmmm.


Exactly.


Congratulations, Lesley.


Nana is so proud.


I think Craig wrote this in response to this.


Beckles wants you to know the Truth about smoking and the benefits of inhaling helium instead.


Gavin has this gag where he pretends like he’s gonna take a picture of you but the flash really fires off on him. There’s got to be a dozen pictures of him making himself laugh on there.


The Puerto Rican Day Parade was yesterday. Three million people marched from 44th St. to 88th St. making it the largest parade in NYC.


They had flags for everything. There might as well only be three colors in the whole world.


Bet that dress was made in Korea.


Does that say what I think it does?


Yup. Samantha is Black by Popular Demand.


Guns, cookies & rum.


Don’t got a Puerto Rican flag jersey? Fuck it. Grab your Spidy suit and red skipper hat and have a blast.


One dude saw that a had a camera…


Then another…


Then the whole gang.


I didn’t see a single person drinking.


Fueled by pride.


Throw ’em up! Throw ’em up! Throw ’em up!


Ride or die.


Ride with pride.


Let ‘er fly.


ShowStoperz Entertainment.


Mmmmmmmmm….


Little Rican.


Dude pushed his float from the market.


The Puerto Rican Bagpipe Association was playing Big Pun.


Ridin’ in a dump truck.


Tippin’ on 4 4s.


Me too!


Yo, Shorty! Yo, Shorty!


Works everytime.


They looked daggers at me.


Brian Huey reps San Juan.


So many good t-shirts. For fashion’s sake I wish everyday was Puerto Rico Day.


Undercovers uncovered.


I don’t know if I’m more offended by the Coors or the tribal.

juned


I’m a huge fan of this block.


DR Ho!


I think this is a pretty accurate representation of the buildings’ residents.


Just around the corner, I found a ghetto hoop. Brett Nelson is looking towards a scorching rookie year.


Swish!


Just around around the corner there was an open hydrant. No kids, just watering asphalt.


Danilo and Harry are new residents who also enjoy Cherry con Pina.


Francis took us to Long Island on the only cold day of the summer.


This is right next to KCDC Skateshop. Kinda rad when you’re used to skating the uneven pavement in front of 510.


There are many reasons I’m not a skate photographer and this is one of them.


Brett Nelson was hiding out.


We coaxed him into a wallride.


Sick ink.


Then the session went awry.


But Harry’s got a positive outlook.


Leave your canvas where you paint.


Later that night we went to the place that has skeeball to see Two Gallants.


Hallie is in town and was stretching it out for the show. She gets sore easily.


I didn’t have a flash so I just poached everyone else’s.


Goddamn Rattlesnake put on the show.


They’re friendly Brookleberry hillbillies.


Then Two Gallants took the floor.


And left me the stage.


“I spent last night in Las Cruces Jail….”


Some people were feeling them.


And some enjoyed the balcony seating.


Encore.

That’s all I got. But we’re still marooned in June….

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