|My Feet Are Killing Me||
This weekend I bought a crazy pair of sandals (pictured above) in Chinatown here in New York City. They have wooden pegs all over them that are strategically placed so as to hit all the pressure points in your feet (as dictated by Eastern medicine). I saw them as I was walking down Mott Street and it only took about five seconds of broken English from the guy who was selling them on the street to convince me to fork over ten bucks for a pair. Apparently most of the shoes like this available in Chinatown feature rubber pegs instead of wooden ones and are made in China. The pair I got, however, were made in Korea and- according to the guy who sold them to me anyway- kick the crap out of the Chinese ones. Also the pair I got came in two varieties- one with short wooden pegs and one with taller wooden pegs. The taller ones supposedly work better and faster. Given my all or nothing approach to life, I bought the ones with the taller pegs. Why fuck around? Am I right?
I was so excited about my new sandals that I put my tennis shoes in a plastic bag and threw on the sandals right away. The guy who sold them to me gave me a little chart that explained what each of the pegs would be doing to me as I walked. One sorts out your liver, one sorts out your intestines, one sorts out your brain, one sorts out your kidneys, and so on and so on. There was even a peg designed to hit the pressure point on your foot directly related to the “sexual gland,” which in my case I am assuming is the penis/balls region. This is the area is located pretty much in the center of the heel of your foot. Try massaging it right now and see what happens. Just don’t go blaming me if all of sudden you go getting all frisky or something. I do not need the hassle.
Anyway, as you can probably guess by looking at the photo above, the sandals weren’t too easy to walk in. They instantly make you walk as if you’ve just escaped from intensive care or something. They’re weren’t too painful at first, but after a couple of blocks, wearing them starts to feel like some sort of rare form of torture. After about four blocks I had to take them off and put my tennis shoes back on, which felt really great.
I’ve tried to wear the sandals a few more times around the house this weekend, but they’re pretty unbearable. Still, I’m hoping walking just a few feet in them will solve most of my problems. If nothing else, they could make for interesting conversation if I wear them when guests come over. “Oh, these?,” I’ll say. “Well, it’s an interesting story actually.” And then I will repeat everything I have just written above and whoever is over my apartment will be really glad to have me as a friend because they just never know what kind of crazy shit I am going to break out on them next.
|The Dave Hill Explosion: Thurs. Oct. 5 At UCB Theatre. Come Or I Will Stab You.||
Hello. This is your man Dave Hill writing to let you know that on Thursday, October 5, at 9:30pm, I will be taking the stage at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre for another seriously incredible 45 minutes or so of entertainment I have taken to calling The Dave Hill Explosion. After taking off the month of September to focus on charity work and medical testing, I am ready to bring it like a motherf*#ker all over again with all the crap that I usually do (only more of it) and then also some really incredible new stuff on top of all that, most of which is in no way a danger to anyone other than myself and anyone in the first couple rows. If you would like to see me talk, sing, dance, read, show some new videos, and do something unforgettable with an ordinary can of paint thinner, a bicycle inner tube, and four boxes of wooden matches, you should totally come. It is going to be a seriously good time. I am going to have a couple really great guests on the show with me too, one of whom I can tell you is musician extraordinaire Joan Wasser a/k/a Joan As Police Woman, who is going to kick you in the crotch over and over again with her sweet, sweet melodies. Anyway, I really hope you can make it. You seem so nice.
|Here Is Something I Did For The Popular Channel Current TV||
Here is something I did for the popular new channel Current TV, which is on cable television and somehow Al Gore-related, which is great. You have to watch the video for a minute or so and then I come on and just totally make it happen. Actually, I haven’t watched it yet but just got e-mailed this link and figured I’d put it out there. I am sitting in a cafe type place near my house and I don’t have headphones so I haven’t had a chance to watch it properly. But I hope you enjoy it. It looks pretty good with the sound off. I’m hoping it is just as good with the sound on. Oh yeah, the story is on people who want English to be the only language in the United States. And as a bit of trivia about the piece, it was shot on the Mexican border in Palominas, Arizona. I could see actual Mexicans from where I was sitting. Also, I forgot to put sunscreen on my arms and they got burned up like a motherfucker. Dammit. Okay, so anyway, you can watch the piece here. Also, if you could subscribe to the site and whatnot and then give the video a really high rating you’d be helping me and America out immensely.
|Atlantic Antic Mayhem||
Yesterday, I spent some time at the Atlantic Antic, the popular annual street fair that totally takes place in my neighborhood. As hinted at in the name, the Atlantic Antic takes place on Atlantic Avenue, the large avenue that runs from the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway all the way over to really far in the other direction, to Flatbush Avenue or maybe even further for all I know.
As is usually the case with street fairs, the Atlantic Antic is pretty much food, folks, and fun in every direction. There was even an exhibit of New York City buses through the ages that was put on by the Transit Museum. The buses from olden times- like the ‘50’s and ‘60’ and stuff- were pretty fun to look at but the buses from the ‘80’s and ‘90’s just looked pretty much like buses that I see driving around the city all the time. One of them even had an ad for “Fiddler On The Roof” starring Harvey Fierstein, which led me to believe that it might have actually been a bus that people totally ride on to this day (just not me, as I am more of a walking/subway-taking kind of guy).
On the food front, my friend Matt and I each got a Vietnamnese sandwich- a pork and beef sanwich respectively- and gave each other half so we could both experience the full magic of Vietnamese sandwiches. They were pretty good. After that, we walked a few blocks and stumbled upon a new Vietnamese take-out place on Atlantic Avenue (which may in fact have been related to the stand where we got the sandwiches, not really sure) and got a couple Vietnamese iced coffees. Not surprisingly, all of this started a bit of a riot in my gastrointestinal system (I had Vietnamese food for the lunch the day before, it should be noted) and I had to make the decision to not go any further down Atantic Avenue since I didn’t want to be too far from home. Matt, on the other hand, continued east on Atlantic Avenue. I have not heard from him since.
After walking a few blocks back in the other direction, my gastrointestinal system seemed to snap back into place and I felt confident enough to jump back on the stuffing-my-face horse and eat some more food. This time around I decided to get a pulled pork sandwich from the Pete’s Waterfront Ale House people. It was pretty excellent but pretty much spelled the end for me as far as eating stuff at the Atlantic Antic goes. No more room. I guess I just flew too close to the sun. It was nice while it lasted though.
While I was coming down from the pulled pork sandwich incident mentioned in the previous paragraph, I ran into my friend Patrick, the Gay Icon, and we stood around chatting a bit while watching the Fleshtones rock people for a while. The Fleshtones were pretty solid and singer/keyboardist Peter Zaremba still has great hair after all these years, so they scored extra points for that.
Then I went home and fell into a deep, deep sleep and dreamt of totally eating the fuck out of some more food. That is how I stay so round and delicious.
|My Upstairs Neighbor Bought Bongos||
Just when I thought my upstairs neighbor couldn’t possibly be any more annoying, he has apparently gone out and bought himself a set of bongos and has thus found yet another way to bug the shit out of me aside from watching war movies in quadrophonic sound and listening to really crappy music super loud. Of course it could be that he simply has a bongo player visiting his apartment but either way the result is the same- some jackass is playing bongos in the apartment above me and it’s driving me insane. Plus, it doesn’t matter whether you yourself play bongos or you are simply friends with some dude who plays bongos- either way it makes you an a-hole in my book unless the bongo player in question is some old Cuban guy or something. I might let it slide in that case. Otherwise though fuck it- if you play bongos in the vicinity of me I am going to stab you. Vibe out on your own time, dude. It doesn’t sound better with a little percussion. Everybody hates you.
|Fashion Week Roundup!||
If you are looking to kill about three and a half minutes of time, here is the Fashion Week report I did for the popular Radar magazine. I hope you enjoy it so much. Seriously, watch it right now or I’ll freak out.
|Hold Up, Girl- Just Let Me Explain||
I know it’s sad and desperate of me to out myself as the person who asked the question below, but really I have nothing better to do today. Anyway, this is from Lloyd Grove’s column in the Daily News this morning. For the record though, I never referred to Anna Wintour as a fucking bitch. So, Anna, if you’re reading this, don’t believe it. You know I love you. I may have called you a crazy bitch, but that’s something entirely different and you know it, girl. Anyway, this from Lloyd:
Radar, the online magazine, hired a camera crew to do wacky man-on-the-street interviews for Fashion Week – including, I hear, asking Russian heiress Anna Anisimova and PR exec Jonathan Cheban the preposterous question: “Did you hear Anna Wintour brought a box cutter into Diane von Furstenberg? That’s because Anna Wintour is a f-ing b-.” The speechless duo fled, and yesterday Radar editor Maer Roshan advised: “You’ll have to take it up with Anna – she knows what she did.” Box cutter? Heh, heh.”
No, just kidding. I no swear at you! You so nice. Anyway, as you can probably imagine, Fashion Week was good times all around. I shot a bunch of stuff with my friend <a href=”
http://disposabletelevision.com” target=”_blank”>Brendan that should be up here on the Internet real soon. I will keep you posted.
|Getting Into The Ad Game||
My friend Meredith Scardino and I (a/k/a McCormick Advertising) recently decided to get into the ad game in hopes of ruling the fuck out of that shit.
I was just sitting here thinking about music and how fun and good it is to listen to it all the time and stuff. To that end, I would like to encourage you to download a couple seriously good songs for your listening pleasure (both of which, admittedly, I have mentioned here before, but fuck it). The first is “It’s All In My Mind” by the excellent and underrated band Teenage Fanclub. You can download it here. The other is by this band, um, called Valley Lodge. The song is called ”All Of My Loving” and you can download it here. Okay, so that is all I have to say about that. Anyway, I hope you like the songs so, so much. If not you can feel free to track me down in my Brooklyn home and kick me in the nuts.