Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Toys in the Attic (Or, Pictures)

Someday, the urge to write will swell back up...until then...

Monday, June 22, 2009

Daddy Day (Or, More Toy Action)

Nothing says "Happy Father's Day" like shamelessly cute pictures of my dog.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Retro Techno (Or, Boy Toy Camera)

A little poetry from my iPhone's Toy Camera...

Thursday, June 04, 2009

Binded By the Light (Or, Je Suis le Douche)

So, I all-too-often am blathering here about overhearing some misuse of language or some fucked up turn of phrase that won't escape me.

Today, I am thrilled to report, I am my own jacked-up-language-spewing target.

Today, I am thrilled to report, in a meeting with a client, I said this in regard to a book:

"Well, I do like the way it's binded."

Uh. Huh.

Before I could back my shit up and own my own blinded bindedness, I got the smackdown from my client:

"Where I come from, we say 'bound'."

This also followed a disastrous attempt at relaying my adolescent experiences with orthodontia. In a nutshell: my orthodontist was a sadist. I tried to glean the funny bits of my extended time in headgear and retainers, only to get blank looks in return and a mere "Wow. Gee. That sounds awful." in the spot where I should have been overcome by buckets of laughter.

So, I be to be sticking to the visualtaciousnesses.

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

Nippity Russell (Or, More Than One)

I was just bored enough today to track down what Google searches brought the dozens here this week. Only one search query had anything of merit:

Multiple Nipples

I'm not quite sure what said searcher was after...but I have always found that more than one nipple is usually preferred.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Literaltaciousness (Or, I Pull My Feathered Hair)

Just when I think I'm down for the count...something hits my screen that's worth slapping up here.

Here's the Literal Video version of Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart".

Hat tip: Pattesia - can I get a "wig on wig" up in here? Amen, sister.

Eye Know (Or, Non-story Time)'s been apparent to me that I've been rather "story-less" for quite some time (um, six months +), so it seems that my work here might just be visual from now on...or at least mostly visual until I feel the need/compulsion/gumption/whateverness to think up or observe or rehash or catalog or narrate or regurgitate or plop out or plunk down or cough up or spit out or scratch out some kind of story.

That said: above - recently seen in Manhattan (at the Met and on the far West side...which is architecturally becoming Los Angeles in a hurry).

Friday, May 29, 2009

Suit(ed) Alterations (Or, More Tooting) comes more tooting-my-own-horniness...

I just relaunched with (almost) entirely new content/drawings. Check it out:

A number of them originally appeared here on BV.

More to come...

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Empire (Or, Toot My Own Horn)

Pardon me for a moment while I toot my own horn: I'm thrilled and honored to have been selected for the Los Angeles Center for Digital Art's annual Top 40 exhibition. My piece "Empire (Or, the Worst Is Yet To Come)" (above) will be on view today through June 6 at LACDA and will also be on view at the California Museum of Photography from July 2 - August 22.

Sunday, May 03, 2009

Fuck Swine Flu (Or, Overheard)

Overheard on the street yesterday at a crosswalk...

FRIGHTENED WOMAN: God, I'm so scared of cars. Really, I am. Like one is just going to run me over while I'm crossing the street. You know what I'm even more afraid of? Anorexia. I'm afraid I might catch it.

I had to turn around for that last bit. I thought maybe I'd misheard something, but the woman she was speaking to had this horrified O-my-God-I-can't-believe-I'm-friends-with-her look on her face. Hopefully, the horrified woman had the gumption to tell her frightened friend that outside of ballet schools and gymnastic camps, Anorexia doesn't work that way.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Overheard Overher (Or, Tits Up)

Overheard on the subway last week...

BIG DUDE: No way, man. She can't be a lesbian - she's got such nice titties.

Guess he never saw Bound.

Overheard at a bar last week...

BARTENDER (TO SOMEONE ORDERING A COCKTAIL): Malibu and Diet Coke? Are you serious? What does this look like...a titty bar in Jersey?

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Synergize Me (Or, Repeat Business)

Ok, so ye olde BV is beyond stale and crusty and musty and dusty and rusty's so old and moldy it's nearly Penicillin.

I have half-hearted, half-assed stories to tell but no muster to muster, so I'll rehash something that I wish I wrote.

Last night I was pleasantly surprised by SNL's The Best of Amy Poehler. The thing that made me laugh the most was a clip from Weekend Update - rehashed as such:

POEHLER: In a recent Vanity Fair article, Madonna stated that she felt New York City had lost much of the synergy and life that it had in the 1980s. New York City's response: "Right back at you."

Saturday, April 04, 2009

Camp Leslie (Or, I Punched that Pigeon in the Face)

I found out about the magic of Leslie Krizter whilst perusing this week's New York magazine in the can. This clip ain't all magic (not so sure about her Rachel Zoe)...but Riff-Tina is pretty golden. Enjoy.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Better Half (Or, Cabooseled)

Last week, my lower half was in revolt.

Below the belt, I was all calamity.

I'll spare certain details, but I was betrayed by my own special downstairs on three occasions: two of them are PG-13 enough for me to relate here with the kind of reckless abandon I should be wary of, given how 50% of me was operating on its own rogue agenda last week.

Betrayal #1:
While futzing with signage atop a 20 foot ladder, the crotch of my pants blew out while two female colleagues watched from below.

I hope I provided a nice show.

Given that I didn't realize the extent of the blow-out until hours later, I can only imagine.

Betrayal #2:
In a mad dash to the gym, I accidentally grabbed a pair of black swimming trunks that I thought were gym shorts. Upon realizing this changing in the locker room, I decided to roll with it, rather than make another mad dash home to get an appropriate pair of shorts.

Again, I hope I provided a nice show.

Given that it was a crowded Saturday, I got an ocean of "Oh, get her" looks as I attempted to workout while keeping my junk properly stowed.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Worth a Trip to Spain (Or, Los abrazos rotos)

I've gone on and on here on the subject of Penélope Cruz...and her win at the Oscars this year was about the only thing I was happy about (well, that and Hugh Jackman's camptastic outing of himself...hello.). Anyway, the cause for this post isn't an ode to Vicky Cristina Barcelona (although it was the only film from last year I truly loved), but a pre-ode to Los abrazos rotos - Almodóvar's soon-to-be-released (in Europe, anyway) film.

It looks achingly good (see trailer below) - and the graphics (from the always fantastic Juan Gatti) are already killing me.

See also - the official site. The press kit is...well...complicatedly delicious.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Thar She Almost Blows (Or, Overheard)

[I overheard this a few weeks ago dropping my laundry off at the 9:00 AM]

FRAZZLED WOMAN: Yeah, that's right: I'm completely bipolar. I'm also an alcoholic. That means if I don't get a drink in the next ten minutes, I'm going to tell you how I really feel about you.

[A minute later...after the man she was speaking to laughed at her admission]

FRAZZLED WOMAN: I'm fucking serious. I'm happy now...but you better can it with that laughing.

As tempting as all that was, I didn't stick around for Mount Frazzled with the Laundry to erupt.

File Under: Things One Shouldn't Admit in Public (Or, Camptastic Tuesday)

I'm pretty sure I've admitted this here before:

As a squishy pre-teen boy, I was obsessed with Olivia Newton-John.

I'm not quite sure why I feel compelled to re-admit this today, but ONJ has come up in conversations several times this past week...and I'm in dire need of any sort of stimulus to get this blog back off the ground.

My bedroom was littered with posters (Xanadu,, long-playing records (Totally Hot,, and drawings I made of the world's single (at the time) Australian Superstar. At one point, I begged my mother to buy me a braided headband, so I could emulate her look from Physical.

In the privacy of my own room, of course.

In hindsight, I realize my mother must have been deeply concerned with my need for said terrycloth headband...or at the very least, she laughed her ass off at my expense.

In the privacy of her own room, of course.

Above is the video for "Twist of Fate" from the soundtrack of the entirely unwatchable Two of a Kind. I bought the album and taped this video off of television long before I had the mispleasure of seeing Two of a Kind on HBO. Based on this video, I thought the movie was about some sort of neon Thunderdome/Star Chamber discotheque alternate universe in which ONJ must beg and plead to return to Planet Earth to reclaim the still-handsome John Travolta before he fell into the evil clutches of Scientologists out to remake him a bloated, annoying, overpaid ham.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Overheard (Or, Panty Mouth)

I overheard these two ditties last week on the street...I'm still hoping that I somehow misheard these.

ELDERLY MAN (to TWO ELDERLY WOMEN): For Christ's Sake, will you stop arguing about those goddamn panties already.



CONTRACTOR ON 8TH AVENUE (to A HOARD OF OTHER CONTRACTORS): son's gonna move to this neighborhood and when he! These dudes are going to be all over him. It's going to be nuts I tell you. I'm so happy for him.

Thanks for the Father's Day go get laid.

Monday, February 09, 2009

Year of the Ox (Or, Happy New Year Better Than Wishes)

Well, since I'm short on words and still stuck in a visual headspace that doesn't lend itself to are some photos I took a couple of weeks ago at the Chinese New Year's Day Parade in Chinatown. I did bang my way through some excellent pork dumplings and ribs at Baby Buddha (which is thankfully still standing strong in the far West Village) with my girl Courtney D'Amico-DeMarko.*

*Hearts, Mandee!

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Four On the Floor (Or, Limping Toward An Anniversary)

Yes, yes y'all.

I'd like to whelp with reckless abandon that BV is four today...but the official anniversary was last week and I was feeling entirely fickle about it and couldn't muster the muster to say so.


Four years.

Given that I've been toying with boarding up this shindig for good (hence, six-plus weeks of zilch), I'm oddly proud of myself that I'm even mumbling about another year's passing.

Anyway, my story mojo has been down and out for sometime...I'd make big promises of change you can believe in, but fuck that job.

I'll try to get my act together soon.

If not...

Stay tuned.