Sep
Posted on 20th September 2005
This is just a really super quick note to let you know that I have recently updated my futuristic website. Actually, in the interest of full disclosure, it is my friend Tim Parnin who did the updating. He knows all that technical stuff. But anyway, my point is that if you are looking for a mindblowing Internet experience, you could do a lot worse than to go check out my new and improved website. You might have to click around a bit to find where the new stuff is, but- trust me on this one- it’s there. And as long as you’re “surfing the net,” I would also encourage you to “check out” the website for my popular rock band Valley Lodge. I mean hey- why not? Am I right? Okay, well that about does it for now. I hope you have tons of fun on the information superhighway. Don’t be afraid to take a break every once in a while. You don’t want your pancreas to explode or anything. Could happen.
Sep
Posted on 19th September 2005
I have been holding off on making any official judgment on the situation for a few weeks now, but I have finally come to the decision that the hot dog guy on the corner of my block in scenic Brooklyn does in fact suffer from Tourette’s syndrome, the rare and exciting disease that causes people to involuntarily yell out random (and often profane) words and phrases at the best possible moments and also when you least expect it. They sometimes twitch a bit too, which only serves to add to the excitement, at least from where I’m standing anyway.
Fortunately, the hot dog guy’s Tourette’s syndrome doesn’t seem be to having any adverse effect on his business- people love hot dogs and they’re not going to let a little random shouting from the guy selling them get in the way of their enjoyment of the popular funtime snack. His condition has, however, been affecting my ability to distinguish when the hot dog guy is having an outburst from when he is trying to talk me into buying a hot dog or when he is simply trying to say hello to me from fifty yards away.
I buy a hot dog from the inadvertedly profane hot dog guy once every couple weeks on average (I would buy them more often, but for any number of reasons- the fact that most hot dog guys appear to never take bathroom breaks being just one of them- I try not to make a habit out of it. ), so we do have a bit of a rapport. He knows I live nearby and enjoy the occasional hot dog with sauerkraut and mustard. More often than not however, the interactions between me and the hot dog guy tend to be on the slightly awkward side. “Fuck you!,” he’ll yell at me from across the street. “Good! How are you?,” I’ll yell back. “Hello, my friend!,” he’ll say with a smile. “Sauerkraut and mustard,” I’ll reply. “How would you like it?,” he’ll ask. “Fuck you!,” I’ll respond. It pretty much goes something like that every day. Still, I love him for it. The hot dogs are pretty good too.
In other news, last week I saw a guy in a wheelchair walking a three-legged dog down West 23rd Street in Manhattan. It was kind of beautiful and sad at the same time. I couldn’t help but admire their “can-do” attitude. I also wondered if they had clever nicknames for each other. And for one teeny-tiny moment, I felt lucky to be a guy walking down the street with two healthy, if chicken-like legs. Then I went back to embracing a dark world view.
In still other news, yesterday I spotted a discarded (and completely full) catheter bag sitting on a ledge outside of a building on the corner of Clinton and Atlantic Streets in Brooklyn. For the uninitiated, what I am talking about is a large plastic bag of piss, about half a gallon to be exact. It was almost amber in color, suggesting the person it came from could stand to drink more fluids throughout the day. Then again, I guess when your piss empties into a bag, you probably avoid having that happen any more than absolutely necessary. Not drinking a lot of fluids is probably the way to go when it comes to that sort of thing.
Sitting on top of the big bag of urine was a Brooklyn sightseeing guide booklet. I’m guessing someone had had enough of both sightseeing in Brooklyn and carrying around a large bag of piss with them everywhere and decided to liberate themselves of both objects. A rash and slightly selfish decision perhaps, but I’m guessing when you have to pee into a bag all the time, you’re entitled to have a short fuse every once in a while. Maybe this is where the phrase “pissed off” comes from (Sorry- I couldn’t resist.) Still, I can’t help but think that the catheterized outer-borough sightseer could learn a thing or two from the guy in the wheelchair and his three-legged dog or even the hot dog guy with Tourette’s syndrome. Maybe we ALL could learn something from them, even if that something is just that you should always try to make the most of things in life and- whenever possible- don’t leave a big bag of piss out in the open like that. People might jump to conclusions.
This morning, I walked by the ledge where I spotted the big bag of piss and the sightseeing guidebook sitting yesterday and they were both gone. Now I’ve got all sorts of questions. Could someone be standing in front of a Brooklyn point of interest with a large bag of warm piss at their side at this very moment?
Here’s to never really finding out for sure.
Sep
Posted on 18th September 2005
Here’s something new and exciting and generally pretty groundbreaking that I whipped up for my webpage. It should be up there pretty soon, but- in the interest of blowing minds and giving you a sneak peek and all, I figured I’d share it with you here first. Introducing the all-new DAVECAM™…
Sep
Posted on 15th September 2005
I’m currently reading “Blink”, Malcolm Gladwell’s best-selling follow-up to his best-selling first book “The Tipping Point.” I really like Gladwell’s writing and also his hair and highly recommend both books. “Blink” is about “the power of thinking without thinking,” something I have been trying to get better at lately. Here is a quote from about halfway through the book that has- perhaps wrongfully- been making me feel better about myself and my place in this world:
“The problem is that buried among the things that we hate is a class of products that are in that category only because they are weird. They make us nervous. They are sufficiently different that it takes us some time to understand that we actually like them.”
Then again, maybe I just really, really suck.
Sep
Posted on 13th September 2005
In the interest of both continuing the shameless self-promotion I have been up to lately and also (hopefully) sharing good music with people and whatnot, I would like to encourage you to download a song by my molten rock band Valley Lodge, which I realize I have been mentioning nonstop lately. Anyway, the song is called ”All Of My Loving” and you can either stream it or download it for free here. I also realize there are millions of bands offering free downloads on the Internet these days, but I promise you my band does not suck. Check it out and if you’re not completely satisfied, you can track me down and kick me in the nuts or something. If you do like it, please share it with others. Who knows- it might even get you laid. Now, wouldn’t that be something?
Sep
Posted on 12th September 2005
It’s been an action-packed past few days and nights for me and my extensive wardrobe. The mayhem started last Thursday night when my rock band Valley Lodge and I all jumped into a cab and showed up at the Parkside Lounge on Manhattan’s scenic and historic Lower East Side to appear on an exciting new comedy/chat/variety show called the Parkside Radio Hour, which is hosted by my friends Tony Carnevale and Sean Taylor, two guys who- as it happens- also host an exciting and entertaining comedy night here in town called Variety Underground. The other guests on the Parkside Radio Hour were supposed to be Shandi Sullivan, whom I’m told is on the hit TV show “America’s Next Top Model,” and Cassis, a one-named German girl who composes music for films and works with the acclaimed white-haired director Jim Jarmusch on occasion (She also rides a motorcycle. This is something I learned during her interview). Unfortunately however, the Shandi Sullivan girl cancelled at the last minute, which was a bummer because I really wanted to find out what a contender for the title of “America’s Next Top Model” was really like in person. I also wanted to stand uncomfortably close to her, find out what she smells like, and see how she might feel about the idea of maybe grabbing brunch together some time soon (Next time, Shandi. Next time.).
Our appearance on the Parkside Radio Hour seemed to go pretty well as far as I can tell (We played our hits “Every Little Thing,” “All Of My Loving,” and “Hanging On”), though I must admit the talk show setting is not as conducive to choreography and other gyrations as the more familiar (to us anyway) rock show setting. Still, I’d like to think we touched a few hearts along the way.
On Friday night, I fired up the rock-n-roll asskicking machine once again, only this time it was with my friend (and Valley Lodge bass player) Phil’s band Heather, with whom I have recently begun playing guitar. We played at a super fun late night rock-n-roll party called Jelly, which was being thrown at Crash Mansion, a slightly too clean new rock club on the Bowery. Upstairs is another club called Blvd, where they were simultaneously throwing a hip-hop party of some sort. Unfortunately however, the hip-hop party was over capacity and, as a result, whoever owns both places decided that nobody else could enter either club after about 1am, which meant that people who showed up to see us at our 1:30ish set time weren’t allowed in. Dammit. Also, some band that played earlier in the evening, drank all the complimentary beer in our dressing room while we were setting up our equipment. That’s not nice, now is it? It’s not like I wanted to drink a ton of beer or anything, but it’s just the principal of thing. Go buy your own damn beer, band that shouldn’t have been in our dressing room in the first place even though the one girl in the band had really big boobs.
Despite the fact that a lot of people who came to see us play couldn’t get in and also some band with a girl with really big boobs in it drank all our beer, our set ended up being really fun and stuff. Afterwards, the famous hip-hop artist Lil’ John (whom I’m told really, really likes to have access to “krunk juice” at all times) cut throught the Crash Mansion club with his plus-sized bodyguards to conspicuously “sneak” through some secret entrance to the Blvd club upstairs, where- one can only assume- he drank “krunk juice” until well into the next afternoon or so. It is the nature of the beverage. People just can’t get enough of it. Especially that Lil’ John.
Backtracking a bit, I wanted to mention that earlier in the evening, after soundcheck, Phil and I went to a very authentic Chinese restaurant (as opposed to the places that serve more Americanized Chinese dishes like Kung Pao chicken and Moo Shu Pork and stuff) somewhere in Chinatown and- in the spirit of trying new things and potentially grossing ourselves out in the the process- ordered fried goose intestines with soy sauce and another dish that consisted mostly of large chunks of frog. We had both had frog before, so that was the safety pick of the two I suppose. In the end however, both dishes ended up being pretty tasty. The fried goose intestine had some texture issues that might keep it from being a popular favorite here in the states anytime soon, but was something I wouldn’t be opposed to ordering again some time soon as long as I could maybe get some lo mein or something to wash it down with. The frog was a bit too salty and had a lot of bones, but was also a winner as long as you avoid picturing an actual frog at any point while eating it. Then again I guess the same could be said for chicken.
On Saturday I went to see my friend Andy’s band Tuppy the Band, who put a smile on my face no matter how hard I try to stop that from happening. The show was at Parkside Lounge, located on Manhattan’s scenic and historic Lower East Side and also mentioned a few paragraphs ago. I’m sure they would probably kick me in the nuts for saying this, but Tuppy the Band kind of remind me of a garagey version of They Might Be Giants or something. They have funny lyrics and really great hair and I love them for it. Guys, please don’t kick me in the nuts if you are reading this. I wouldn’t do that to you. What the hell is you’re problem anyway?
Last night- Sunday, September 11 to be exact- I performed on my friend Josh Hanness’ comedy show, Friends and Family, which goes down pretty much every Sunday night from now on in the back room at the Beauty Bar on East 14th Street, right down the street from a place that sells reasonably priced porno DVDs. Being September 11 and also Josh’s first night back after a three-month hiatus and all, the crowd was small but good times were still had by all. The other comedians were Becky Donahue and Chris Jurek, who is from Minnesota. They were both very funny. I hope I was too, but I supposed that sort of thing isn’t really for me to say. Let the people decide. Am I right? What’s the deal with airplane food?
Anyway, now I sit here in my underwear at 1pm on a Monday afternoon, tired, undermoisturized, and not really sure what to do next. Showbiz is killing me. If only I had tested better, I could be performing surgery somewhere right now. Still, I’ll always have better pants than anyone in the medical community. So there’s that.
In other news, my friend Michael Cavadias has a new blog. You should totally check that shit out right here.
Sep
Posted on 11th September 2005
I’m guessing I probably mentioned this at some point before, but in the interest of ongoing relentless self-promotion I would like to point out once again that I am currently appearing on a new TV show called “Random Acts of Duff,” starring the lovely Karen Duffy a/k/a Duff, whom you might remember from her days as a VJ on the popular MTV network and also from such hit films as “Dumb and Dumber” and some other ones besides that. If you have basic cable television (and the statistics would suggest that you do), you can watch this popular show on Friday nights on TLC a/k/a the Learning Channel. “Check your local listings” as they say. It would mean the world to me if you “tuned in” as they say. I love you so much it hurts.
Sep
Posted on 8th September 2005
I’ve been dealing with a bit of insomnia lately, so the past few nights I’ve ended up crawling out of bed in the middle of the night to watch TV for a little while, usually between the hours of three and six in the morning or so. A couple nights ago, I caught a movie called “Bikini Airways.” The description of the movie that pops up when you hit the info button on the remote control read “a woman resorts to sexual antics to save an airline.” It’s pretty much irresponsible not to watch something once it has been described that way, so I tried to put in as much time with it as possible. I had the sound down really low, so I couldn’t really hear any of the dialogue, but from where I was sitting it looked liked the woman’s airline rescuing efforts pretty much consisted of boning everyone that happened to be on the same flight as her. I’m not sure how this played into the saving of an entire airline, but I certainly admired her commitment. After a while, it seemed like some of the other ladies on the plane got the same idea and joined in on boning as many of their fellow travellers as possible. I’m not sure what airline this was, but I would sure like to find out. (I say this in an effort to suggest that I am not entirely opposed to the idea of having sex with total strangers on an airplane. Then again, I’m sure if the opportunity actually did arise, I wouldn’t know what to do. I’d probably just get nervous and stick my head into one of those SkyMall magazines. Why am I always blowing the really great opportunities in life when they fall in my lap? For example, when they give out those free samples of hot pockets and stuff in the grocery store, I almost never take them. What am I afraid of?)
In one scene in the incredible “Bikini Airways” movie, one of the pilots stepped out of the cockpit (NOTE: I’m sure there were a lot clever uses of the word cockpit during this movie, but- again- I had the sound off, so I missed out on those.), to grab himself a donut and a cup of coffee. You would have thought one of the stewardesses would have just brought him a donut and coffee in the cockpit so he didn’t have to get up from flying the plane, but by that point in the movie all the stewardesses were busy boning everybody so they couldn’t be bothered with in-flight snacks and all the other stuff you can usually count on them for. After all, the future of the airline was at stake- get your own damn peanuts. Am I right? Anyway, as the pilot was making his way back to the cockpit after grabbing a donut and coffee, he happened to catch a glimpse of some of the hardcore boning that was going on in coach. He took a quick look around to make sure no one was watching him and then, with a sort of “Don’t mind if I do” look on his face, he stood there staring at all the hot action going on for a few minutes until his co-pilot was finally like “Dude, would you stop watching all the hardcore boning for a few minutes and get back in here to help me guide this vessel to safety?” At least that’s what I’m guessing he said. I couldn’t hear him. I would have turned the sound up, but I didn’t want to wake the neighbors with the sound of a really great movie about a woman who would stop at nothing- not even a threesome- to save an airline whose future was in jeopardy.
On another one of my sleepless nights of watching late-night television, I stumbled upon a stirring and provocative documentary about dwarves. It turned the sound up for this one as dwarves on their own with no sound is usually not enough to drive the plot along- unless of course there is hardcore boning involved. Then again, you have to remember my goal in the end was to get back to sleep. I doubt watching a movie in which dwarves get down to some hardcore boning would have helped with that, so I’m glad this was just a documentary about dwarves and their day-to-day life and pretty much made no reference to hardcore boning at any point in the documentary as far as I can remember.
I’m not positive, but I think the dwarf documentary was called “Dwarves: Not A Fairy Tale.” As the title suggests, the documentary tended to focus on how it’s not always good times all the time when you’re a dwarf or “little person” as those little bastards (just kidding to any dwarfs that might be reading this. You know I think you are super.) insisted on being called much of the time. Sure, if there’s a Renaissance Fair or community theatre production of the hit movie “Willow” or something, you can pretty much be guaranteed a lot of special treatment if you’re a dwarf, but the rest of the time it’s mostly people staring at you as you struggle to grab items from the high shelves at the grocery store and stuff.
Throughout the incredible dwarf documentary, there was a lot of sad piano music playing in the background that helped underscore the fact that being a dwarf is kind of sucks a lot of the time. In one scene, a dwarf was talking about how he once got dressed up in an elf costume to entertain one of his friend’s kids at Christmas and he started to get all teary-eyed. I guess it was a pretty fun time for everyone, but then the next day it was back to not being an elf and he was reminded of how it’s kind of a pain in the ass being a dwarf on totally regular days when you’re not dressed up in an awesome green costume or anything. As for me, the combination of the sad piano music and the crying dwarf pretty much freaked me out more than anything else. That kind of stuff is just too much for me at five in the morning. Where is a woman resorting to sexual antics to save an airline when you really, really need her?
Sep
Posted on 3rd September 2005
In an effort to keep the blackness coming nonstop, I would like to offer you the blackest AOL Instant Messenger icon ever, absolutely free of charge (Hey, that’s just the kind of guy I am.). Download this Witch Taint AIM icon (below) now and spread the magic of the Taint wherever you go (as far as instant messaging goes, that is). Okay then, have a nice day. Wait, no, scratch that- have the blackest day possible.
Sep
Posted on 3rd September 2005
In case you are looking for even more Internet excitement (And really, why wouldn’t you be?), the website for my unstoppable rock band Valley Lodge is finally up and running. It’s really pretty and shiny and also really hot (this is a reference to temperature mostly), so don’t blame me if your computer explodes or something when you look at it. Anyway, go here and let the mayhem begin. You can stream our entire album and then when you’re all done you can even go buy the album for yourself or a loved one at CDBaby. You could also download the entire album (or just the songs you really, really love the most) at iTunes if you feel like getting all futuristic about it. Anyway, check out the site and listen to the music. If you are not completely satisfied with your Valley Lodge experience, you can track me down and kick me in the nuts. So there.
