Happy things

I was trying to take a picture of this rad tote my friend J. Penry made in conjunction with the awesome Wicker Man inspired art show The Ritual which was recently at the By and By gallery on Grand Street.



Unfortunately there was a little interference.



Apparently Omar doesn't like the idea of me taking pictures of any cat but him. And so, I'm pleased to introduce the newest member of the Hames/Ragon household, little Omar Little. Sound familiar? He's named after this guy:



Look it's everyone's favorite shotgun toting, drug dealer robbing, Baltimore bad ass and one of the greatest television characters of all time! No big deal. I was thinking about naming him Mouzone after my other favorite gunman from the show, but the Nation of Islam goes a little too deep for my taste.

Oh and also in the tote picture please allow me to point out the amazing old Howard Stern pin Sean found in one of his dresser drawers. Sean's a huge old Howard fan who even went to one of his rallies back in the day. I charmed him in part by mentioning I had just listened to Artie talk about his book on the air when I spied Sean's copy of "Too Fat to Fish" by his bedside on my first night over. Sean may not realize this, but that pin is going to live on my tote for the next long while.

Anyway, expect more kitten pictures soon and some pictures of beer bongs for old times sake (some things never change, like my friends and their love of non-traditional beer ingestion.)

[Flickr] White Castle Likes Your Photo!

Dear White Castle enthusiast,

We saw your stuff online. We dig it. We like it so much, in fact, that we’d like to include your video or picture on WhiteCastle.com.

Before we can post your work, we need your permission. Read the legal stuff below and email us back. As you’ll see, we offer no compensation, we simply provide the stage to showcase your White Castle-inspired genius.

Please reply with a copy and paste of one of these options:

1. Yes, I’ve read and agree to all terms and I allow White Castle to use my photo, "White Castle Party!" on whitecastle.com.

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Thank you for your talent, devotion, and for saying yes. Thank you for recognizing and responding to the crave. If you have any concerns, call Debbie Cline at White Castle, 614-559-2577.

Long live the crave,

Your friends at White Castle


LICENSE, PUBLICITY RELEASE, AND WAIVER OF CLAIMS

In making and agreeing to this License, Publicity Release, and Waiver of Claims (“Agreement”), it is understood and agreed that I rely wholly upon my own judgment, belief and knowledge of my contractual rights and obligations under this Agreement, and that I have not been influenced to any extent whatsoever in making this Agreement by any representations or statements regarding said Agreement, or regarding any other matters, made by the persons, firms or corporations who are hereby released, or by any person or persons representing them.

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The greatest thought train

So my friend Don Stahl posted something about pudding on Twitter. It made me think of Barry and Levon on the state and them having a bunch of pudding in the trunk of their car. Alas, all I could find was the $240 worth of pudding sketch when I looked up "Barry and Levon state pudding" on Youtube. So I expanded my search to just "Barry and Levon" and...fuck...the greatest thing ever happened:



I haven't seen this movie. Nor have I heard of it. But trust me, I'm adding it to my Netflix queue (sorry, Frankenhood, but you've been bumped down to #2) and Barry Bostwick and I are gonna have some serious hang time via the tv real soon.

*EDIT: Fuck!!! This movie isn't available on Netflix?!?!?! Do I really buy a VHS copy from Amazon? Do I really? I think I need to see this*

Thematics

Everyone loves a theme party. At least those of us with a closet full of demented garb begging to be worn. It's a way to riff on a life you will never have. Whether it be appropriating the customs of the meatheads and the boozed-out babes who used to antagonize you in your youth, or exercising that childhood dream of running off to join the cirucs, a well executed theme is hard to resist. Especially for chicks who have an almost primal need to play dress up. For dudes it is more about occupying the role of supreme party participant and dressing the part only improves ones chances to reach "life of the party" status. I went to two very different theme nights the weekend before last. A spring break party full of straight dudes who were raised on punk, the anti-frat, doing beer bongs and the final Animal Train Happening. The latter was the seventh and final installment of a series of collaborative parties put on by New York Night Train DJ Jonathan Toubin (the Jew with the most soul) and the crew at Live With Animals (many of whom also play in Golden Triangle.) This final blow-out bash had a circus theme and featured two bands, a hula-hoop performer, a contortionist, and celebrity DJ Jon Spencer.


I arrived to Glasslands early thinking early to party early to bed. That didn't end up happening but it did give me a good chance to survey the scene before it was crowded with sweaty bodies. In these days when it's rare that anyone put effort or love much less time into anything, the lovingly decorated space was amazing. From cotton candy to a projector running a loop of scary old-timey clown heads the beauty was in the details.


It became immediately apparent that aside from the DJ/Ringmaster Jonathan Toubin, the serious costumes were mostly on the ladies and the gays. Jon Spencer didn't even dress up and despite my extra harsh ears when it comes to "celebrity DJs" I must admit his music selections were superior.


Vashti, queen bee of Live with Animals of course looked ridiculously amazing while orchestrating the event.


Sexy majorette Carly dancing her ass of pretty much all night was a sight to behold. She and Vashti are part of the dancing duo the Marmaladies. They make any event better because they have one mission, to dance and they do it so well it makes everyone else want to join in. I want that costume for reasons I don't even know. I'm sure it would come in handy in some context.


This girl was such a perfect combination of scary/amazing that when she perched behind the popcorn booth and started blowing bubbles I nearly got the chills.


Come on!


Genius drag tip, if the shoes don't fit, tape 'em.


Try Cry Try played with their singer Raul dressed in some serious demon drag crossed with a touch of dirty Dee Snider. With the cross-armed crowd epidemic New York shows can get so boring. It takes someone with balls, albeit balls uncomfortably separated by a thong, to get people going.


There are no words to explain the performance, just take a look at this picture. Trust me, it was way more punk rock than drag show.


Then there was this guy. He appeared around 2 am in full costume out of nowhere. He danced his swimsuited ass off to Preacher and the Knife when they invited everyone on stage. I'm not sure what circus performer he was supposed to be, he looked more Spring Break to me.


Check out that ass.


Preacher and the Knife rounded out the night. They somehow transferred their sound from Birthday Party revival worship with a hint of Captain Beefheart to Afrobeat Calypso party band with a white Fela Kuti pacing around the stage. They also have the best drummer ever.


Mister Barcelowsky


Obligatory baby shot.


This just makes me laugh.


Somehow I ended up dancing on stage to Ike & Tina's I Idolize You stone cold sober wearing nothing but a crop top and bike shorts covered in skulls. Okay, so that's probably more carnie than circus, but didn't that motorcycle stunt man who rode circles in a caged sphere that always made me think of the Thunderdome always have a slutty looking assistant? Sometimes the party takes you above and beyond.



If you want to check out the entire album go to my FLICKR Album

Spring Broke

Ahh, back in New York, just in time for the season of beer bongs and hula hooping. The older my friends get, the greater their enthusiasm for beer bongs seems to increase. Beer bongs and spring break. Maybe it's because those of us who did go to college never were the types to spend a weekend in Ybor City or South Padre Island. Cabo Wabo wasn't part of our scholastic venernacular. But the last thing I want to do was revist spring break after being stuck in Tampa on a Friday night during the actual time period known as spring break. It was halfway through the Love as Laughter tour, right before things started to go wrong. The boys were playing at a venue called New World. I was restless after spending the whole day in the van so I asked the promoter which direction was the best to wander. He pointed me around the corner and up the street. Little did I know that I was being directed into the heart of darkness known as Ybor City.

It was a typical party strip, filled with nightclubs and tshirt stores. Head shops next to cigar stores (this was Florida after all) and a token Coyote Ugly. All around me were girls in crop tops and mini skirts with brightly colored legwarmers or wrist bands advertising their school colors. Accompianying them were the class cargo shorts and sandal wearing meatheads. Everyone looked like a case of alcohol poisoning waiting to happen. The locals were dressed in slightly less garish but still horrifyingly miniature ensembles. Walking the strip in black jeans and a tshirt, I got a lot of attention. I guess I stood out. In addition to all the other riff raff, there was a gigantic outdoor mall. After walking around for 30 minutes I felt throughly traumatized and went to take a nap in the van. Desperately I started texting all the friends I knew were from Florida asking them if they had any leads on places to crash for the night. Trying to find a cheap hotel room during spring break is pretty difficult. In fact trying to find an open room cheap or otherwise is basically impossible. Everyone who wrote me back said stay out of Ybor City. I had to laugh as I looked up at a sign visible from the venue parking lot informing me that's exactly where I was.

I was wary upon coming back to Brooklyn when I was greeted with Glen's enthusiastic phone call about a spring break party he was throwing at LuLu's. My urge to stay a shut in for a good week post tour was overcome by my compulsion to be a good friend and I went despite my reservations about the whole spring break concept. It ruled. You know I love to photograph a beer bong. And what's more, I now love me some serious hula-hoop pics. Let's hope that theme stays with us for the summer. Anyone want to make a Target trip and buy some?

Without further adieu, I present to you, Spring Break: Brooklyn Style


DJ Naan Stop aka O.B.G.Y.Glen


The Budweiser shorts make the ladies go straight for the crotch.


"Brad Parsons stole my money"


They made their shirts right before the party.


Audrey was seriously dressed for the occasion


Sean was not (lookin good babe!)


Berkowhatz?


Group shot (featuring the abadoned boyfriends in the background)


The face of mediocre pizza when you've got beer vs the face of mediocre pizza when you don't


The return of the flabongo


Good form!


Hula hoopin head bangin


To everyone's credit, hula hooping is way hard when said hoop has no weight in it.


Still, Annie was a star, in fact I think it was she who got everyone going with the hula hoop in the first place.


I never found out if this was a retro spring break themed outfit (Daytona?) or if this is an everyday look.


Either way it was awesome, silver jangles, bedazzling, all goes so well when paired with a hula hoop.


Dudes just don't look nearly as good, no matter how hard they try.


Beer bong time...unfortunately (or germ/dignitywise maybe fortunately) for me Tommy Gunz left no abandoned unopened non-alcoholic brews sitting around like last time.


Fletcher looks like an add for How to Get Babes 101...the Corona beer poncho.


Here I am having what is apparently the best time ever! Now that's what I call a hula hooping outfit. Thanks Leah.


Coke-a-haunt-us or at least that's what I nicknamed Leah when she had her braids in earlier in the night. Bummer she took them out, she had a good native look going. Even without them, still good look going.


A dude in Budweiser shorts talking a reluctant looking girl into a beer bong. Now that's classic spring break date rape about to happen.


Except that it's Glen and Marsha Brady and they are totally bros and she's smart enough not to trust him. What a pre-bong look of mass suspicion!


Sorry he parties...the parting shot of the night.

The Chosen (and not the Jewish kind)

My friend works at a modeling agency. They get tons of regular submissions from people who want to be models. He started blogging some of the best and brightest of these hopefuls. Some are amazing, some are depressing, some are striking, and some are just plain...well...you'll see.

The Chosen

Here are some of the photos he's posted:









It's been around for less than 24 hours and already it's the most amazing blog I've seen in ages.