KTB

A not-so-brief, summarized timeline of this past Saturday. I'm still reeling in pain here.
11:30AM - A neighbor and long time friend pays a surprise visit. "Have you heard the news" he asks. "No" I reply. "I'm engaged" he shocks.
12:30PM - Four beers and several vodka shots later he takes off to run his errands. I go back to cooking my chilli.
1:30PM - Greg the shutterbug pays a surprise visit. He's not engaged but hovering in the hood.
2:30PM - Four beers and a couple of vodka shots later Greg takes off. He has a photo shoot to go to. I go back to cooking my chilli. The BUZZ is on.
3:00PM - Mom and Dad stop by. They are en route to see Slava's Snowshow. I have seen the Snowshow and highly advise my folks to get a heavy buzz on. Dad is already buzzed but still proceeds in finishing off multiple shots glasses of Kettle One. I join him in this next round of imbibing although I'm downing shots. He's drinking out of highballs.
3:40PM - Folks leave. I'm in bad shape.
4:45PM - Chilli is ready. I swallow several portions.
7:00PM - Time to start getting ready for the evening's festivities. On the agenda - a birthday party at Duvet. Thankfully, we've had no more visitors since the parents left.
7:05PM - Bottle of Georges DuBoeuf beaujolais is cracked open.
8:05PM - Second bottle of beaujolais uncorked. I've hit that point where it would be worse to stop the intoxication then to continue. The veritable point of no return is upon us. I will most certainly embarass myself and those around me at some point this evening.
10:00PM - Arrive at Duvet. It's not registering well... There aren't any tables. Just beds. White colored beds. Everywhere. I'm not sure what to do but a drink is most certainly needed. Despite there being bottles upon bottles at our birthday girl's bed, I feel the urge to pay for my own drinks at the bar. Stupid decision.
10:15PM - My shoes come off and slippers are on. This is Duvet's cachet. It's not fun and it's annoying especially if you're drunk. I'm lucky to have walked out of there with my shoes.
10:30PM - Maker's and soda is going down like the Eagles come Superbowl Sunday.
11:00PM - Well well. There's another birthday party going on at Duvet and it features a certain infamous publicist Lizzie something or other. Not really sure who she is but there were people whispering and pointing. She's not too ugly and is uncomfortably skinny. Who are these people?
11:30PM - A young looking gent from Lizzie's bed walks over to our beds. He knows our bday girl. We're introduced. It's none other than Gawker's favorite whipping boy Jonathan Cheban. He's very, very skinny, has polished hands and makes eye contact upon shaking hands. All most-certainly tell-tale signs of complete gaydom. I utter something regarding nothing and proceeded to embarass myself along with the bday girl during the brief convesation with Jonathan.
12:00AM - A very dangerous time of evening has descended upon me. I have left Duvet along with everyone there. I am heading to the Magician to rendezvous with MT.

I don't remember much from this point forward. Somewhere in my near future, I recall doing a shot of Jameson's only to chase it with more Maker's and soda. I recall running into a trader buddy of mine and telling him some horrible lies. I recall going to another bar or something and falling down. Again. I recall screaming for pizza and pishka in a cab. I recall waking up at noon on Sunday and swearing that I'll never drink brown liquor again. Again. Again. It's now Monday morning and haze of death is still strong upon me. Work beckons. It's going to be a long week.

Update: Oh yeah, I forgot to mention I lost my camera too. It's never a complete night unless you lose something dear and expensive.

Going thru a list of KTB's referall sites, here is what I was able to find regarding search engines directing traffic here. In particular, these are some of the terms people are typing into Google, MSN and Yahoo to be directed here:

undress
=(kicker*fucker*chicken*ipod)
brunette
anti superbowl
bukkake tv
fucking pussies
shit bukkake
austin scarlett "page six"
street fuck - via dogpile.com
fatfuck

Somewhere on the corner of Chambers and Church streets lurks an evil bar. And right about now, it's calling my name.

It's the morning immediately after a NYC "blizzard". These folk are riding around USQ, windows a lowered, on their way to a very important destination.

Where are they going I wonder? Where are they coming from?

Are they B&Ters still carousing out and about after a sludgefest at Crobar? Are they simply a NY family on their way to the airport to catch their private jet to Eagle, CO?

I have questions. Pepe has answers. Where is Pepe hiding?

You would imagine that people of my elite social standing surround themselves with other people of high social standing. I am here to dispel that rumour and dispel it miserably. Case in point - my fantasy basketball league.

In a usual fantasy basketball rotisserie league, team owners post messages on the bulletin board to discuss possible trade offers, brag about the quality of their team and players, and on occasion make fun of poor decisions by fellow owners. What follows is a series of posts from a non-conventional fantasy basketball league. I'm sorry if this offends anyone.

westside
by: jp Jan 25 12:44pm
talkin is cheap punkass.....you are goin down faster than Tabby goes down on shemales.....you were right when you said 6-3,but in my favor chump

I heard
by: tabby Jan 25 1:16pm
SOMEONE IS HAVING PROBLEMS GETTING IT UP "JP" AND CANT function like a man

HEARD IT FROM YOUR SOON TO BE EX
LOL

VIAGRA BUDDY?

tabby by: jp Jan 25 1:48pm

actually it was your mother and it wasnt me who had the problem...she couldnt keep my cock down her throat....maybe your dad could do a beter job next time.....ohh by the way tabby...when was the last time you were even in a position to have an ex...not including your boy toys

JP
by: tabby Jan 25 1:51pm
WHY SO TOUCHY

WAA WAA WAA

fucking Cry Baby

cant take heat stay out of kitchen

tabby
by: jp Jan 25 1:55pm
whos hot?the only hot one is that smelly russian snatch your mother calls her twat
[Ed. Note] LOFL LOFL LOFL LOFL LOFL

DNA CHECK?
by: tabby Jan 25 3:03pm
ARE U SURE THE KIDS YOURS?

obviously you have problems down there

I thought it was questionable that you had one

are you my daddy?
by: jp Jan 25 3:04pm
are you sure your dad is really your dad....maybe he is really your mom and the whole shemale infatuation runs in the family
[Ed. Note] The shemale thing is an old joke because there was a rumour way back when saying Tabby hooked up with a trannie while under massive influence of K, coke and X. It was just a rumour. Who could say it was a man? She looked great even with her mustache...

PLAYED OUT
by: tabby Jan 25 3:10pm
Your post are played out
just like your erectal dysfunction
Im sorry u cant get it up
and you spend your whole day writing post and sending stupid trade offers
Im sorry your wee wee does not run
but they have things like
the penis pump or pills or maybe even some type of psychological counseling

Good luck
god speed
hope the DNA check come out for u
[Ed. Note] LOFL LOFL LOFL He said wee wee!!! LOFL LOFL LOFL LOF He said wee wee!!!!

if i didnt know better...
by: jp Jan 25 3:15pm
i think Tabby is trying to get in my pants...all this talk of not getting it up has gotten him excited..and he really wants to find out himself if its true...Tabby..go ask Mama for some more $$$$$ and ask her if it works or not....my days writting posts are better than your night coked up at Lace by yourself,wondereing "why am i here when i love cock?"

COCK COCK
by: tabby Jan 25 3:23pm
JP IF YOU THINK I LIKE COCK THATS FINE BUT YOU REALLY SHOULD LOOK INTO YOURSELF YOU CANT KEEP A GIRL AND U CAN'T GET IT UP AND BY LOOKING AT YOU I DON'T THINK ITS GANNA HAPPEN

SORRY BRO
SERIOUSLY WITH ALL THAT TALK ABOUT SHE_MALES MAYBE SUBCONCIOUSLY YOU WANT ONE

COME OUT OF THE CLOSET JP

nice comeback tabby
by: jp Jan 25 3:24pm
talk about played out

tabby
by: jp Jan 25 3:28pm
shut up already and go back to being evil's little pet...good boy....sit...make us laugh...ohh,what a good pet you are tabby
[Ed. Note] How did I get into this? Who cares. Keep reading.

omg
by: gav Jan 25 3:31pm
its set JP vs Tabby a showdown in the suburbs, it will be a cage match just like UFC, tickets are 49.99 or check you local cable company for ppv details.

Vegas has jp 10-1 favorite, as tabby's body has had extensive damage due to to many gaggers.

call peta to place your bets
[Ed. Note] New character enters the fray here - Gav. Gav is neither drunk nor is he sober. It's hard to comprehend what he saying. Sounds like he's promoting one hell of a bum fight here.

The Russian Retard (tabby) vs Pissed Off JP (POP)
by: pera Jan 25 3:36pm
Russian Retard Pissed Off JP
32 age 32
5'4 height 5'10
6" cock(length) 4"
4" cock (girth) 2.5"
13-7 record 0-0
2' reach 3'
160 weight 210
very(when Drunk) angry? very angry

well, by the looks of it, the retard may have a lot of trouble figuring out the very angry daddy. Big size mismatch, inversely noticed in the genital area.

The problem that POP is gonna have is this. Even though he is angry as hell, Pissed Off does not have any recorded fights under his belt, except with women and small children, unlike our little retard, who can rumble and tumble any given sunday with the biggest or blackest beefcake in the bar.

We think the experience that the Retard brings into the ring will be too much for the big POPPA to handle. That combined with the Retards brute retard strength, and high level of intoxication, numbing all pain, will give the Retard the victory.

Current Vegas Odds

RUSSIAN RETARD -250 POP
[Ed. Note] My bro, pera, the perennial bookie, offers odds on this slam-tastic showdown. Yours truly must kick in an opinion of his own here

my money is on The Retard
by: evil Jan 25 3:33pm
PoP - no offense, you know i love you and all but you're strictly an amateur when it comes to these things. you're a family man.

how many times can you say you've been hit flush in the head with a steaming rice pan, only to come back and deliver a brutal beating upon your assailant?

how many times can you say you've been booted in the skull with steel tipped Georgia Loggers only to come back and, actually, this one ain't pretty.... let's move on shall we.

how many times can you say you've been branded with a lava-hot lighter only to come back and piss upon your brander?

my guess is NONE. because, like me, you choose to live the simple life. the peaceful life. the love thy neighbor life.

the RR(russian retard) knows NO SUCH LIFE. he hates his neighbors, he hates peace, he's a warmonger in Mini-Me's clothing.

don't fuck with the RR jp. you have alot more to lose than he does. he doesn't feel pain. he doesn't know the meaning of the word. he's like Patrick Swayze in the movie Roadhouse. "Pain don't hurt" Swazye uttered to the doc while she stitched him up sans pain killers. that's what our RR is. he's a pain-free, coke-fiending, intoxicated killer.

YO PERA
by: tabby Jan 25 4:22pm
CALLING ME RUSSIAN RETARD

LETS LOOK INTO THIS

DRIVES DRUNK FALLS ASLEEP HITS THE SIDE OF GWB FUCKS UP HIS CAR AND COULD OF DIED

LEAVES HIS KEYS IN HIS CAR IN #$@!%@$% (name redacted or parents will be kicked out) COUNTRY CLUB AND WATCHES IT ROLE BACKWARDS AND STARTS RUNNING AFTER IT TO STOP FROM HITTING A TREE

GOES OUT TO BARS AND TO IMPRESS GIRLS HE PRETENDS HE IS PUKING AND GETS KICKED OUT

LOVES TO TAKE OFF HIS CLOTHS IN FRONT OF HIS PARENTS AND JUMP AROUND ON PEOPLE WHILE HIS POOR MOM WATCHES IN HORROR

THINK ABOUT IT BUDDY
[Ed. Note] Sad but true

YO EVIL
by: tabby Jan 25 4:22pm
SUCK IT EASY

AND GET SOME BALLS
[Ed. Note] Suck it easy??? Not really sure on that one. The balls part we agree with. Big time pussies here.

too fuckin funny
by: jp Jan 25 5:11pm
you guys are great...what an imagination...i love all of you...even Tabby

By the way, if it wasn't for my fantasy basketball message board, I really would have lost my shit today. Blame it on earnings season, children and Jews. Just kidding. Earnings season ain't that bad.

Mass hysteria enveloped New York as snow fell for the first time in a millenium. Or so it seemed. As usual, the weather forecasters, along with the doomsayers, overblew another story predicting death, chaos and general destruction.

We got some snow. Big whoop. In Tabby's heart, it snows every day. And every night. It ain't a big deal.

Our collection of "blizzard" photos can be seen here.

The morning after.

In case anyone cares, there's a plethora of excellent pics of this snowstorm over at the New York City Flickr group.

We've got about 6+ inches accumulation so far and there's no end in sight. The blizzard of 2005 is well upon us.

I took these shots a few hours ago when it just started coming down. There's alot more snow on the ground now.

outside of Virgin megastore

Falun Gong practitioners. Amazing how they seem to be unaffected by the snow and cold.

More pix coming soon.

Photographer Michael Wolf has an amazing display titled "Architecture of Density" up. It's a series of pix of metropolitan Honk Kong. Tightly knit buildings; people crammed into cubbies on top of one another. These photos make New York seem like the plains of Montana.
[via kottke.org]

And the winner is........

Mike Heimerdinger!!! The Jets named their new offensive coordinator yesterday in lieu of Hackett's resignation. Heimerdinger. Heimerdinger. What an intriguing name. Say it again. Heimerdinger. It sort of brings thoughts of fellatio coupled with a car accident. Heimerdinger. Yes. By the way, Heimerdinger is a scary looking s.o.b.

Now, the real winner is..........

Austin Scarlett. Again. We sort of remember reading about this in Page Six too. Last nite's episode of Project Runway was a real showdown between the bitchy designers and models. Faced with the challenge of designing a swimsuit that doubles as an evening outfit, the designers had to dress their models for an NYC soiree at the Hiro bar in the Maritime Hotel. Richard Johson, yes the Richard Johnson of Page Six fame, was a guest judge and the goal was to have your name blurbed in the following day's Page Six column.

The highlight of the episode was when Austin dirty danced with Rob. Austin grabbed Rob's fanny from behind and rocked and swayed till Rob exclaimed "Austin is like a classic sports car." Indeed.

They've gone from 12 designers down to 6. Who will make the final cut? Will it be our very own Rob? Stay tuned.

And........

In case you're bored. Either work is a downer or life in general has gotten you down, these photos of winter in Haninge, Sweden are a thrill to the eye. Click on the "view as slideshow" and just tune out.

Goodbye Hackett.
[Thanks Pepe]

Today's Page Six reports some truly glorious news:

We hear that Plaid nightclub is closing. Most staff already got fired without notice, and the rest are furious because the place was supposed to stay open until the end of the month. "Everyone is pretty sure they're getting axed unceremoniously any day now," said one worker.

I thought I'd be one of the cool kids on the block and get myself the latest in portable MP3 players - Apple's iPod Shuffle. Billed as only a 1-2 week wait originally, Apple is now reporting up to a 4 week wait for the mini music players. What the fuck? All I want is to be cool and hip. Is a journey to Billyburg in the works for me?

What is the NY Media elite saying about the Jets' debacle? Here are some headlines:

JORDAN WANTS CASH N' CARRIES - Steve Serby @ NY Post - Lamont Jordan wants what else - cash and more carries. Curtis is reportedly ok with it.
JETS TO JETTISON HACKETT - Mark Cannizzaro @ NY Post - some dreams do come true...
END OF AN ERA - Mark Cannizzaro @ NY Post - Wayne Chrebet to retire or move on. Sorry to see you go Wayne. Good luck.
HERM 'TRUSTED' BRIEN WITH FINAL FG TRY - Mark Cannizzaro @ NY Post - Big mistake. Big fucking mistake. Goodbye Herm. Goodbye Brien. Vin Gallo working on NY version of Buffalo 66 as we speak.
BRIEN WON'T KICK HIMSELF - Mark Cannizzaro @ NY Post - If he won't I will. Hit the road Jack and don't you come back.....

There are coaches who are always looking for ways to beat you, who will go for the throat. Give us 40 seconds and one time out and we'll put points on the board, is their philosophy. These coaches have Super Bowl rings.

...You cannot say people like Knox, Nolan and Edwards are wrong any more than you can say a person is wrong for voting a certain way. It's in their genes, their bloodlines. They can't help themselves. They coach not to lose. Edwards, no doubt, saw a sack, a fumble, an interception, as he visualized a serious attempt to advance the ball against the Steelers. What he didn't see was a couple of first downs and a gimme field goal of 30 yards or so.

What's the buzz? Yahoo has an idea and it's not bukkake.

Surprisingly, model Heidi Klum's new TV show proves the perfect fit. Klum's Project Runway has been building buzz since its December debut.

New Years' resolutions are likes bonez. And you know how that one goes. With that in mind, we had one hell of a hangover to deal with earlier last week. Keyboards were spinning and monitors were floating. Death was upon us. Aleve; Advil; Gatorade; EmergenC; that shit is for rookies. For the caliber of said hangover, we needed a real man's remedy.

So who to call when in such dire need of repair? There's only one place - Carl's Steaks - the Philly cheesesteak purveyor located at 34th and 3rd. Carl's gladly delivered to my office and their delivery man found me snoozing beneath my desk. He looked like an angel to me - albeit a Mexican one. The bag was ripped open, the wrapper was torn off and the cheesesteak melted in my mouth. Chewing? Chewing's for pussies. It was a carnivorous spectacle of gluttony. The thinly sliced steak topped with cheez whiz, grilled onions, and my own Crystal hot sauce filled my aching intestines with nothing but goodness. Thank you Carl's. I can honestly say I lived another day thanks to your feast of a meal.

Carl's has a website here and if you work (or live- BLAH!) in the mid-town area, you can order the same feast to your office.

The expected happened in the most unexpected of ways Saturday night. The hapless New York Jets lost their playoff matchup against the outplayed, the outfoxed and the much favored to win Pittsburgh Steelers.

Words escape me. I feel pain, anger, angst, nothing. Even my best friend Mark (as in Maker's) could not provide the succor I so desperately needed. The Jets lost plain and simple. But it was the way they lost that is so hard to swallow. Coming into last nite's game, they were a 9 point underdog. Every bookie from here to Vegas expected the Jets to be blown out. And you know what? It would have been easier to accept had the Jets lost 35-7. That would be fine and today I would be hollering for Hacket's head. But that wasn't the case (though Hacket should be out come Monday morning).

The Jets all but had this game won. TWICE!!! They were a field goal away from from moving on to the AFC Championship game. TWICE!!!! And both two times, our hero from last week - Doug Brien - missed the impending field goals. TWICE!!!! What are the fucking chances? Words escacpe me my friends. I'm numb right now. I really have nothing else to say.

Why?

Somebody put forth an APB. There's been a hipster sighting without the prerequisite trucker cap. All is lost. My world has been turned upside-down. Armageddon is upon us. Run for your lives. Forget women and children! Save yourselves!

By the way, I "blogged" this. The flickr love affair continues unabated.

"Vodka is the drink here, as it has been for many centuries. Drinking is ingrained in the culture and the act has been totally ritualized. Poland is right up there with Ireland, Russia and the Indian Reservation as having cultures that best facilitate a smooth transition to alcoholism." From the Banterist on his trip to Poland. Indeed.

"They tease you out, tart you up and send you to unmemorable steakhouses. It's one extreme makeover after another, and the next thing you know, your readers are checking out the $25 and Under column first." - TMFTML's thoughts on NYT Food Critic Frank Bruni. But who reads the NYT anyway?

We totally forgot to mention the fact that we dined over at Employees Only last week. You know the place or at least you will. As of now, we're still hearing whispers but they're bound to get louder.

Located on Hudson Street in the heart of the West Villlage, the establishment did pave it's entrance with the surly bouncer, velvet rope and the standard name-checking brunette. It was all for show though. We walked right in when we mentioned we had a rez. We could have been lying. We could have been telling the truth (we did have a rez for 6 people tho). The name-checking brunette smiled, smudged and opened her door to us. The restaurant's door we mean.

Upon entry (and we hate sounding this cliche) you do feel like you're in Paris of the 1920's. Art-deco accoutrements line the walls. Long, thin curves summarize the wooden bar. The barkeeps are all very thin and mustachioed too boot.

Our rez was for 9pm. We didn't sit down till 10. Blah. Behind the bar is the actual eatery and it probably sits around 9, maybe 10 people. Actually, it probably fits more but it's very cramming in there. Ventilation was poor as thick currents of smoke vied to escape from the kitchen. Granted, EO had formally been open just one week but the smoke and the heat didn't add to the sardine-like sitting situation.

As for the most important part - the hotness of the waitress' - we would say the place would get 3 - 3.5 stars out of 5. Our waitress was cute and also thin and tall. Thin and tall goes a long way.

The food? Ok at best. We had raw oysters (no cocktail sauce nor tabasco sauce - BLAH!!!), steak tartare (the best dish of the night and a truly excellent one at that!!!), something with mushrooms and something else for apps. Steak tartare - easy victor out of that group.

Entrees consisted of osso buco (good only because you really have to try to screw up an osso buco), steak (served on your own individual wood cutting board), and something else that escapes me. None of the entrees really stood out as anything special.

Given the fact that we'd been drinking Makers and soda all thru the evening, it's hard to paint an exact picture of everything after the appetizers were eaten.

What's the verdict? We'd go back but only in a few months. They have a backyard garden that seemed pretty cool and hopefully isn't as claustrophobic as the dining closet. The place had only been open for just one week so we understand the rigors of running a smooth operation at new hoity-toity restos. We have watched "The Restauarant" after all. The food definitely needs to be worked on and the menu (you can only hope) will mature in the right direction. The thing that really upset us though was the cocktail sauce or lack of it. Come on people, can we get some fucking cocktail sauce for the oysters. What the fuck?

Our first prediction of 2005 is (drum roll please) -------------- Lenny Wilkens, head coach of the New York Knicks will be fired. Probably by noon today tomorrow. You heard it here first. The Knicks have dropped something like 5 of their last 6 games (don't quote us on this) and are playing an abysmal version of basketball.

Lenny Wilkens, who is the winningest coach in NBA history is simultaneously the losingest coach in NBA history. He holds records in both the win-loss columns. Lenny Wilkens may be a nice guy, he may be a good family man, but a winner he is not. He's a loser. The concept of Defense escapes him completely and vehemently. The fact that the Knicks don't have a superstar player who can single-handedly take over a game is fine. There's only one Tim Duncan, one KG, and one Shaq out there afterall. The point is then that without a solid defense, your team ain't squat. Just look at last year's NBA champs the Detroit Pistons. They didn't have a player of Kobe's talent level. They didn't have a bona-fide superstar like KG. But they took on and crushed the Lakers of yore because they can play great defense. Not good defense. But great defense. And the Knicks today - they play negative defense, if there's such a thing.

Goodbye Lenny!

In other news, the Jets baby, J-E-T-S are in the playoffs and faceoff against the Pittsburgh Steelers on Saturday at 4:30PM. It's not like we need another excuse to drink on Saturdays (although we missed last week's fiesta), but this is what we've been waiting for all fucking year. Curtis, Chad and co. versus Ben Cheezburger and his bad boyz of Pitt. We'll have more coverage on this matchup as the week continues. Stay tuned.

By the way, did anyone see the back cover of the Post today? No? Ok, here it is for you then.

It's not as clear in digital form but fuck the resemblance is uncanny. What the hell are we talking about? If you can, look at the print version and maybe, just maybe, you'll see a whopping resemblance between new Yankee pitcher Randy Johnson and my dear old friend, Don G. We had no idea that shiny metal is the new fashion accessory de rigueur. All this time, Don G's been nothing short of a true visionary.

Gawker brings us a delicious Xmas gift albeit a little late. Still, beggars can't be choosers and we're quite content with the contents of these pix.

That be our favorite untennis player Anna Kournikova. Yaaaaaaay!

See the whole high-res series of pix here.

[via gawker]

News from FL comes in the form of an IM:

pera (7:55:55 AM): yo
me (7:55:59 AM): piska
me (7:56:00 AM): sup dude
pera (7:56:05 AM): hung over
pera (7:56:19 AM): it was war last night
pera (7:56:26 AM): me vs pig
pera (7:56:31 AM): aytan driving
pera (7:56:36 AM): golf balls in the car
me (7:56:42 AM): omg
me (7:56:45 AM): tell me
pera (7:56:48 AM): throwing them at bergers head
pera (7:56:52 AM): hit him
pera (7:56:53 AM): hard
pera (7:56:55 AM): he hit me too
me (7:57:00 AM): golf balls?
pera (7:57:00 AM): so i took a bottle of wine
me (7:57:02 AM): r u serious?
me (7:57:03 AM): why?
pera (7:57:05 AM): and cracked him so hard
pera (7:57:07 AM): with it
me (7:57:12 AM): in the noggin?
pera (7:57:17 AM): he was screaming
pera (7:57:20 AM): like a pig
me (7:57:22 AM): oh no
me (7:57:24 AM): poor pigger
pera (7:57:24 AM): bottle of wine
pera (7:57:35 AM): hit him in his elbow
pera (7:57:38 AM): its swollen
pera (7:57:39 AM): heheheh
pera (7:57:53 AM): i wanted to bite him too
me (7:57:54 AM): did anyone hit him in his hooknose?
pera (7:57:59 AM): no
pera (7:58:11 AM): just wine bottle
pera (7:58:14 AM): and golf balls
pera (7:58:25 AM): golf ball to head was really funny
me (7:58:37 AM): was he screaming?
me (7:59:07 AM): lol
me (7:59:09 AM): damn
me (7:59:49 AM): dude, so u fucked berger up good huh
pera (8:00:02 AM): so funny
pera (8:00:12 AM): violent pig last night
pera (8:00:19 AM): very angry little piggy
me (8:00:22 AM): did he get you back?
pera (8:00:28 AM): dude me and aytan have a plan
to sink the titanic [Ed. Note - Titanic is a reference to berger's new boat...]
me (8:00:39 AM): the ss hooknose?
pera (8:00:52 AM): it has 2 holes in the back of the
boat for flood control
pera (8:00:54 AM): well
me (8:01:03 AM): they r corked up now?
pera (8:01:13 AM): what happens if somehow those
holes get plugged up
pera (8:01:13 AM): ?
me (8:01:33 AM): thar she blows...

In other news, this photo series from Donald Andrew Agarrat is simply amazing. It's definitely worth a look.

So OMG, episode 4 of Project Runway aired last nite at it's new 9PM time. 9PM is alot easier for drunkards like me as I'm still semi-coherent. Come 10PM, you could either find me bowling for toilets in Bowlmor or in the deathgrip of a 6'5" bouncer, teeming with anger because "somebody" bowled for toilets in said Bowlmor...

Last nite's episode found the 9 remaining contestants split into teams of three to complete a new look for un-uber and un-heard of rock star Sarah Hudson. Who da who da fuck is Sarah Hudson? Sarah chose three favorite designers from the cast and they subsequently chose their respective squads from the remaining contestants. Sure enough, Rob (aka The Player) was chosen second to last by Jay.

"Rob's basically the slave" Jay remarked once the contest was underway. Indeed!

The highlight of the show, IMHO, came when one of the girls pricked herself with a needle in the process ensconcing a part of the needle in her weeety beeeety finger. Poor dear. The drama knows no bounds. Both queers and heteros freaked out at the sight of this impalement and as the throng of contestants gathered around the bleeder, king of all drama queers, Austin pushed Rob and told him to get the hell away.

"Go away!" Austin squealed immediately before bitch slapping Rob in front of the cameras. I nearly dropped my snifter of Chivas at the spectacle unfolding itself on the tele. Rob seemed shocked yet at the same time there was fear in his eyes. He wasn't sure if he should grab Austin and give him an ass-whooping right there or if Austin would grab him and bend him over right there. The tension was thick and Rob floundered. His chance to throw down on national TV came and went and Austin came out on top (no pun intended).

The lowlight of the show was in the promos and previews that Bravo broadcast for episode 4. Every single preview I saw showed Rob climbing some type of scaffolding on the street only to lose his grip and smack straight into the street. Wham. Blood. Gush. Consciousness withers. What the fuck happened to that scene Bravo? I'm pissed and unhappy that you promoted and pumped this for the world to see and then covered and hid it from us. Stunts like that are the fodder of street level crack dealers. Entice and hide. I can't express my disappointment in this diservice. And why wouldn't you show it anyway? That's entertainment. Somebody gets drunk, climbs a building or whathaveyou and falls thus having to be rushed to the hospital. Bravo - you fucking suck for not showing that. 'Nuff said.

"The New York Post has learned that Playboy is offering digital downloads of its models in varying forms of undress to be viewed on Apple's newest gadget, the iPod Photo hand-held viewer. The downloads of Playboy models, called "iBods," will be a regular for iPod Photo owners. To get the exclusive shots, users must be members of Playboy's Cyber Club, at about $19.95 per month. Free photos involve only semi-clothed models with no nudity. Playboy said the iBod feature is meant to show techies how readily available Playboy's content has become for the new portable devices."

What's next? We can only imagine.

Apple's estimates were also raised courtesy of Goldie Sachs and UBS is out saying "Apple could be the #1 PC mkt winner over the next few years. The firm notes that consumers need to wait another year and half for new software from Microsoft. Apple's mkt share sits at only 2%, so the firm believes the co could be poised to launch lower-priced Macs to take advantage of its stable operating system and brand momentum from iPod. Firm believes low-priced Mac could help facilitate switchers from Windows as consumers seek innovation at Apple and desire better security and stability in an OS. In addition, sales of flat panels as a peripheral product is also an important growth opportunity for Apple". Word.
[via briefing.com]

JCB's got some sweet pix up from his new expat life in Brasil. My faves are

and this one

Although that last one doesn't look like it hails from Rio.

Last night, we used the wondrous iSight and had a direct cyber encounter with JCB and Witz live from their Ipaneman APT. They provided a virtual tour of their two bedroom, two bathroom pad and sure enough, Witz pulled his shaft out and tried to make auditory love to JCB during the video session. JCB was quick to pull some wrasslin' moves out of his bag and quickly took down the Witz. By the way, Witz, what's up with that hair? You're looking like Krusty the Klown.

Witz conveyed to me a very important fact of life about his new life - goody bags cost $5 a gram in Rio. OMG, we're visiting real soon....

For more on the travels and misadventures of JCB and Witz, check up on their excellent website.

Well I'm back. For better or for worse; I'm back; it's 2005; I'm still alive. God bless. Amen. Allahu Akbar. Whatever.

My new year's vaca was spent on a beautiful beach on a small isle in the Bahamian archipelago. Did I spell that right? I don't know. From now, I'll refer to that as ARCA. Haha, get it? ARCA? For those of you not married to the market and such, disregard that last pathetic attempt at schoolgirl humour.

What my new years was is relaxing. What it wasn't is a booze infested, drug induced, big A endorsed (that's right big A bitches!), kill me in the morning and give me a drink at noon hungover brain cell slaughter-fuck. Nope, I'm still alive and there was none of that.

One reason for this travesty of justice may be blamed on the fact that smart beers cost $8 out of the mini-fridge in my non-so-bargain-basement of a home away from home. And in order to remedy this, subsequent trips to town were called forth but even there, beers were $4 per (no fucking joking here) and bottles of Mr. Boston's unFinest vodka were an ass-bleeding $40 per (no fucking joking here either). I don't know if it's because I'm white or because I'm Russian or because I was a tourist on this isle of 4,000 in the Bahamian ARCA (lol - killing my-trader-self here) but I was getting fucked at every step of the way. And I'm not EVEN getting into the thirty-fucking-five (US$35) one-way cab fare to town where the only fucking liquor store squatted.

An ardent individual may have deduced that cab fare alone would be $70 round-trip so any cost-savings in beer would have to accomplished by buying vast amounts. Well, my friends, I'm not the most astute card in the deck. A 6 pack here, a bottle of Don Q there and before you know it, I'm several hundy out of pocket. By day two of my trip, visits to town became extinct. And the rest of my vaca consisted of reading, shutter-bugging and the rest of the what-have-you that consists of a getaway between a dude and his biyatch.

The highlight of my trip - coming home and hearing this message (message redacted due to pathetic vegetarian threats of impending physical violence) on my voicemail. The message sounded a little like

Duuuuuuuude
3 AM. Packing my beakkkkkk..........
You're never gonna believe who I made eye contact with tonight. Lindsay Lohannnnnnnn.........
Wanna bang her so bad......
You, Aytan, Chad, Berger fucking pussies. Fucking married pussies...........
Wanna bang her butttttttttt..... So bad....... So nice.........

In case you care, pix of my vaca are here @ flickr. By the way, the flickr love affair continues unabated. You heard it here first - flickr is the future. Flickr is the future. Flickr is the future...

Happy New Year Bitches!