First Day Of Summer

For a true gentlemen first day of summer means, no socks with loafers and white slacks. Me don’t think so!  The first day of summer means sand & sun.



To Please This Women…

If you want to be a gentleman in the eyes of Weed’s super-hot-mom, Mary Louise Parker these definitions should be in your character dictionary:

Montblanc, Forona Gordas, Salt on your chocolate, Initials on towels, Order for her at restaurants, Flannels shirts, Tip more than necessary, Be able to build a cabinet and/or sandwich, Fix things.

All I can offer to you Ms. Parker is my flannel shirt, but if you want me to put salt on my chocolate I will, I will.



Not The Same Anymore

The day my mom washed away a piece of art. That piece of art I’ve been working on for two years. It began, well, two years ago. This art piece began as a humble black/ heavy navy canvas, as I worked on it more, it took shape of what I went through on a daily basis, almost like mirror reflecting my inner colors. Such things as weather, my materialistic desires, and my dietary consumption affected every stroke and shading being incorporated into my art. I would spend at least once a week putting time into this art. A funny thing is, certain things in my life would cause very specific turn out that day on my piece of art.  The more money I had, the shades would fade towards lighter blue and almost white. The more I didn’t talk or communicate to others more squares and rectangular were embedded into the fading blacks and blues. The more I didn’t listen to music and fasted my musical urges I had curves and circles added. Just when this piece was becoming more and more mature and becoming a masterpiece to me the unthinkable happens.

Mom meet art, art meet mom, stay friends just don’t touch each other. I should’ve known this rule would be broken, one thing led to another and things happened. I must have forgetting my mom’s tendencies because I’ve been away at college for so long. She probably picked it up, picked at it, touched it, and smelled it and realized how ‘dirty’ it was to her. So she decided to wash my art. It was almost like an epi-epidermis to my epidermis, was the bookbag for my books, my scrotum to my nuts. She wasted my one-of-a-kind denim. That’s right I said it denim. Some of you out there are thinking ‘ what’s this baby crying about?!’ and a very select few out there are up with one fist in the air, feeling my pain. For those very few, I pump my fist in the air too.

I called it the one-of-a-kind denim, not because it’s a limited edition x collab from a high end Japanese denim factory. I call it my one-of-a-kind because there is literally none like it out there, it was MINE. Now it’s ruined. This now gives me an excuse to go grab another pair. Thanks but no thanks mom.


Summer Jobs

People around me are stressed out about getting a job for the summer. Few are looking for a part-time while on break, and most are looking for what you call a ‘career’ AKA lockdown. While walking back from a drop spot in the blazing weather, I see from a distance a small oasis. As I approached it, the image became clearer and clearer, A lemonade stand, how gangster is THAT!? So I pay the very fair price of 50Cents and take my shot of lemonade and back to work. I don’t know this may apply to you, but this just gave me an idea…

…to create a small stand of my own, selling…(fill in the blank)


Guarding The Gates

Just got back from helping out at the dopest event in Manhattan on a Tuesday night, AtriumXAntennaXNudieJeansXTitos Party. Not enough will power or just plain old power power to post, HOWEVER due to a standing ovation from Sarah from Antenna tonight, I’m mustering every drop of energy to stay up and type and photo-edit. Instead of writing this one out in literate sentences, I think sporadic words and phrases will do. 

atriumxantenna invite

New Faces: Will, YaYa, Eric. Old Skin. Pin-ball Machines. Dancing Machines. ‘Last name please.’ ‘Listed people only.’ Vita CoCo. Viva La Brooklyn. A3. Alife. Under Dressed. Overly Freshed. Open Bar. Closed List.atriumXantenna1‘Every Girl Deserves A Mr.Wertz.’  Lisa. Bags of Ice. Tonic Water. Club Soda. 

atriumxantenna2Beer Runs. Will’s Jungle Juice. Cheesecake. Olives. Shrimps. Catered Goodness. Double Dip. OG Dance Music. Ice X5000. 


Street Talk I

Today I was walking back from an Antenna drop-off and I had to walk past a group of construction workers. Let me lay out the situation play-by-play. A blonde bombshell in a ‘pleasant summer attire’  is walking ahead of me, in front of her are greasy smiles &  pairs of eyes focused on one thing(or should I say focused on a ‘pair’ of things) then I’m walking observing and laughing inside from behind the prey and the predators. The blondie disappears into the blur of people and I walk past the ‘gentlemen.’ As soon as I walk past the construction site, I briefly catch this coming out of one of the workers, “If I was that girl I would…” He was cut off by the honking of oncoming traffic. Thank God that’s all I heard.


The Thinks You See…

Hung out with my good friend Justin in the city today. Pluck You, wings joint, consumed $10 worth of wings each. Walked it out. Saw some dudes practicing Light-Saber moves. Sweetness.