Holy crap; we're a big family. Like a giant heard of sea lions we all showed up near monterey for my cousin's big green irish wedding. They got married in one of those ancient california missions in carmel. The whole thing was tasteful. I have about fifty cousins. That's me inappropriately dressed like a manager at McDonalds.

Alex proceeded to lay claim to all the bridesmaids with his dance moves--

--and his impromptu acoustic guitar sessions.

I ended up taking these two really strange photos of my sister.

Anna flew in all the way from boston and I stole her glasses.

Around this time, I noticed that my little cousins were getting more and more happy. Notice the conspicuous booze in the vicinity.

Check out this kid copying alex!

I went to dinner with my friend Marisa and then over to the Arrow bar.

Besides her cool new friend Chrissy,

I saw tons of the same people I always see out in SF. There's something to be said for NY anonymity.

All of my photos of Marisa always come out like this:

Except this one:

FUCK YEAH CMJ
WED NIGHT: LES SAVY, GO TO TOWN, HOLD STEADY

Well it's that time of year again. When every magazine copies the same joke that every reporter uses about confused djs with neck passes stumbling around the city with subway maps.

I'm leaving for San Francisco thursday morning so I'm missing the whole fucking thing...except tonight where I will be running around like a college dj trying to catch two different shows.

Go see Go To Town if you can. They're a new band headlined by these two cool girls.

Auuuhhh, LIFE IS TOUGH FOR FAT ANGRY OLD WHITE MEN TOO

In an article in this week's New Yorker, Hendrik Hertzberg basically tells limbaugh he'll meet him after school to beat his fat draft dodging ass. But then backs off because it's too easy to beat up this sad little drug addict pussy. And it really is. I'm not going to get political. But I did suffer through medical school. So I get to get on my high horse and get medical while you shut up and take it.

Hertzberg only hints at it. But it's not really a big secret that people with serious drug addictions have underlying mental problems. You don't just stumble into a 20 pill/day addiction because you're happy and well adjusted to life. Human instinct is to self-medicate. When you stub your toe, you rub it. When you're a disturbed individual you take drugs...or start a mean-spirited radio talk show. There's also the unspoken rule among doctors that people with overly-serious religious convictions have underlying mental problems. I don't care what your political convictions are. Rush, Ashcroft and a lot of these washington aholes aren't just mean. No normal person is that mean and so concerned with what others are up to. They're seriously disturbed people. Very frustrated with the world, very alone, very confused and very very angry. They should be in therapy, not in congress, not in the cabinet and certainly not in the sterile, gullible public eye.

Saturday night and I finally have a camera. Of course I take hardly any pictures. I did have a snapshot war with Betsy at her bon voyage party. Then Jared and I met up with designer/scenester Eddie and we walked to the east village to sample the utter debauchery going on.

I walked into Lit and met a friend who had her face firmly planted on some guy's mouth. I wasn't sure it was her so I was arcing my neck around trying to figure it out. All these ahole guys were like "hey" and thought I was some kind of perv watching these two make out. I got her attention and she completely forgot about this guy who just stood there looking pissed.

Anyway, I actually went to Lit out of boredom and not sexual immediacy. I think I was the only one. I had an Astronaut Jones (SNL skit with Tracy Morgan) sort of conversation with some girl. I was talking about some bullshit and we were chatting for a while and then I was answering her question about something...blah blah blah and she was like "uh huh, right, say word, dig it, wha?, uh huh, say wha?, right, dig, uh huh, mm hmh....can we take off and..."Astronaut Jones clip.

POST CARD FROM THE EAST

I went to a party down south last weekend. The view of the harbor from the roof of this place was worth the gustiness. Wow. Then I was helping my friend Kelly#3 apartment hunt in williamsburg. I know 4 Kellies now so I have to resort to nomenclature. But it made me wonder why I don't live in brooklyn. Yeah I have a not so bad apartment. It has a nice view--

--as you can see and a 5 minute commute to work across the street. But I can't help but wonder if my life would be irrevokably changed if I too bought my coffee from women with pierced nipples. Would I, like Gwenyth, have some sliding doors moment after devouring a fish taco? Certainly not here, past the areas where people are on the streets on sunny days, on upper east side. I'm thinking of defecting...

Until then, I finally ordered a fancy new G5 computer at work to replace my old workstation that blew its motherboard in the great blackout (aka Adult Snow Day 2003). So this site should be updated more regularily with my idiotic banter. I'll be writing my preliminary exam for my PhD through december and I have absolutely no interest at all in any of iit...so pop culture research will be high on my procrastination priorities.

I'm on jury duty for the next couple days so some good stories may come out of that. I fell in love (from afar) with a girl in my last jury pool and stared at her for three days in a row.

LCD SOUNDSYSTEM ROCKED OUR DRUNK ASSES

Jim, Borko and I hauled our tired overworked scientist asses over to Bowery last night. I wore a scarf over some tight t-shirt I had on (hey it was cold) and looked gay apparently. I have no pictures to document this fashion achievement in homophilia because these asshole girls I got drunk and stupidly hung out with, named Melanie and Heather, nicked my camera.

THIS BAND MADE ME SPIT BEER ALL OVER A BUNCH OF HIPPIES

I went to the annual Williamsburg Cheap Art Party Sunday night.

Tons of people I didn't know were there except the girl who owns the Nines on Graham who's life my cousin and I sort of saved two weeks ago at Knitting Factory. She took time out from selling her punky wares to introduce me to her friends and bestow me with tons of hippie girl superkarma. I made my way outside for a cigarette. Before I could lite it, I met Daryl.

She's a sexy southern professional dancer with awesome hair (and secret muscles that could pop out of nowhere to kick my scrawny ass). Good thing we're friends. So lots more hugs for me. Wow. It's a little hazy...but about then the two pot brownies I bought from a button selling hipster started to kick in. Back inside, Fresh Kills played a screechily good punk set.

Go To Town came on. One couldn't help but notice that they could all actually play their instruments. People got excited and danced into me. I spilled my beer all over them.

What Ever Happened to Baby Sitters from My Childhood?

This is Petra. My mom says she took care of me when I was really small. Now she's a Double-Reverse-Japan-Pop Go Go Girl Rockstar. She just played a show at Lit. I didn't go but it sounds bizarre. Maybe she's where I got my attraction to amazon women from.