The end of the invasion…

One of the last nights the fam is in town. Here we all are, in our full glory.

We played cranium.

It was a hard fought battle, but my team prevailed in the end.

Then, I was ambushed into an open forum of familial complaints. A “time to get it all out into the open” session. It was intense, to say the least.

Finally escaping, I met up with the last of the Cate kids for some pool.

And sure enough, first John,

Then Hicks

Finally bid new york fair well, and they shall be missed.

The other thanksgiving…

Well, after the fam pigging out, I trudged it up to the Surrey for my 10th year of T-day with the Hicks’. I’m like the owen Wilson character in royal tenenbaums, only less stylized, and hopefully less invasive. But it has been an honor to be part of their lives.

Another blast from the past also appeared, John Dvorak, who has basically been ski and then beach bumming it for a couple of years, living the life for all us sinners.

Look, it’s a small cate reunion.

After adult time, the young ‘uns got some rejoicing on with a short stop at the office.

Joanna arrived, yet another high school alumna, and here she’s in a john sandwhich.

These weird unconnected people who stopped by for a sec (friend of a friend or something), and they played this weird calling out game where they imitated bugs.

All in all, good fun. I ruled the ping pong table for about 10 games, until someone finally got a game off me. He’s that blond guy, frind of Andrews, and he was pissed I left him at 2, and finally got used to the table. Cheers mike.

Hoping the night would not end, Devo Hix and I went to the best irish pub this side of midtown Mccormacks.

What a place.

Finally, we ended the night at John’s hotel, where his brother gep was still passed out, after hitting the sack immediately post tryptophane dinner.

Quite a night!

The day after the last day before yesterday…

Oh, turkey day. Look, I finally snapped my older brother Luis Jose.

The family sat around

as Karen, my step mom, whipped up something special.

Look at that bird!

Shit, look at that whole meal.

You know, this is what its about, getting together with your dysfunctional family, and pigging out.

The night on the town with the ol’ friends is coming, worry not.

A day to look back…

Well, the holidays have come pounding in again. Like an 800 pound turkey that can sit anywhere it wants. Family family everywhere.

Look, this guy shot me out of his vas deference.

He also shot out these blokes (not my sister’s husband, I hope).

Not all of us cooked in the same oven, though, the younger set popped out of her.

Unpictured are my elder sibling Luis Jose ( I will get a picture tonight, worry not), and my mother, which is an entire other story.

Today we will eat a big fat bird together, and rejoice that we can share all these bountiful things.

My first instinct is to breakdown the holiday as the white man’s way of using natives to survive only to then steal their land and kill 90 percent of them in a blanket genocide.

But, like most holidays, you can also try to see the bright side. This is a time to gather with people you love and realize some things. That for whatever reason, you are alive, and that that (passed its existential dilemmas of unanswered whys?) is a special unique opportunity. A time to look back and not dwell on all the horrid things from your past, but to focus on the events that make you a lucky son or daughter of a bitch.

You are alive. Shit is happening all around you. The interweb! Cellphones! Margaritas! They did not have crap like this years ago. Give thanks.

I am thankful for…

Sweedish fish.
Anyone I have ever kissed.
My brain.
My ability to orgasm.
Skin.
Rice and chicken.
This crazy job I fell into.
My family, even though they are totally insane.
Everyone I have ever met, but especially those few kind people I call my friends.
My grandfather. For working his ass off to give me this life of privelage I live.
My father, for continuing that legacy.
The game of chess, for framing my neurons in a way that made me the problemsolving machine I am today.
My ipod.
Good movies. When they are good, there’s nothing like it.
My spycam.
Every good book I have read.
Music.
Fuck it, all the arts.
Every good conversation I have ever had.

Im out of time.

Happy thanksgiving, everyone.

Double takes…

Recently, someone said I looked better with fuzz than shaved, but I beg to differ. So I did a half and half to check it out.

What do you think, hair or no hair?

Which got me thinking of other double takes I had in the ol’ photo compendium.

First, a before and after of john’s new painting.

Then this weird thing at the bleecker station where only one column had these studs.

And what about this building, you think its all normal and shit until you get to the new age top.

I love New York architecture secrets.

I also love creative uses of space, like a true corner office hidden inside a closet, Mary style.

So there are your double takes for this episode. Join us next week for double private parts!

Poker at the PS Coral…

I had the poker invitational at the office, which usually brings good tidings,

but it would seem that things were not going to go my way. I came in early to keep digitizing the hours of shit left..

And sure enough I was out with john first, again.

We switched it up so that third gets his/her money back, and first and second split the rest 75 25. In a a large 12 person battle Thayer took third losing a large early lead.

Aaron and newbie james fought for the honor of numero uno.

And what da ya know, the frosh takes it (this is the second time john has brought someone and they have won.)

But Aaron was not as unhappy this time because second left with fifty bucks!

In the loser’s cash game, Zack (unpictured) left early with a 1.50 profit, and John took me out for thirty dollars.

(Oh, and it was Colby’s and Ethan’s last poker game, now that they are off to vermont.

You will be missed.)

Sometimes, its just not your day, or your weekend, and you just have to accept that. No poker win, and too much stupid overtime.

Sometimes you eat the bar, and sometimes the bar sticks it to you wideways.

Hit that C spot…

Well, Friday night nina celebrated her birthday.

The celebration ensued at the fabulous c spot space.

The fencing swords came out for several duels.

My father went to the Olympics for fencing in Munich ’72. He would have wupped up an all these wannabes.

Three canvases were out for for communal painting (an activity I always get a kick out).

I even got into the action, there’s my trademark sun design, and the intruction to Live!

Can you guess what I drew in this much older compilation? (this is old man, like back in the day sophomore year, and yet it still lives.)

(You might think you can enlarge it if you click on it, but we don’t roll that we here at Shut The Fuck Up.)

After fencing, arm wrestling comes easy.

You know sexy sadie, right? Well what about Sada?

We chilled it for a bit on that couch, until her journalizing got the better of her. She had to go interview char about her clothes as an assignment.

This guy arranges flowers.

Mark loves him his haikus.

Doug is a true artist, beret and all (it turns out that once you are writing fiction as what you do, the beret ceases to be pretentious).

Paul strums him a mean guitar.

Alison went rudolph’s cousin with yellow nose.

I crush the birthday girls head.

Charlotte lays out.

You know it’s not a party until someone wears a lampshade.

Or passes out.

Like me, except I blend into my surroundings.

All in all, an excellent soiree. Except I slept on the couch in a cold room and awoke with a sore throat.

Maybe a hang over too. Charlotte was letting her gas man in and felt my pain.

As they say, if you live by the sword, you just might die from said sword.

Nice vibrating scraper…

We had an incredible guest today at work.

Isn’t she just the fucking cutest? I thought so. Unfortunately, Daisy seemed to be a a tarnished and duplicitous omen…

…because later that day I had to go to the dentist for a teeth cleaning.

(its near the Chrysler building. When was the last time you saw it from this angle?)

I was all set to document the teeth scraping experince, and I wanted to start it off right with the hygenist at her workstation, but she denied me the photo! What gall, what gumption. No matter I would trudge on, getting xrayed. Look at that compact carcinogenic shooter, and the lead suit protecting me (what’s protecting my head I wonder?).

Then of course, I got a glam shot of her doing her dirty work.

Notice me in my Zen state, leaving the body behind to suffer as my head takes a little vacation.

And look, a nice blood pic, testimony to the unhealthiness of my gums (“you don’t floss enough!”)

And then she’s done, and my teeth feel like new,

like suddenly there are spaces between them. Its another paradox, teeth cleaning. Like taxes, you dread it and hate it and feel like its unnecessary, but I like me my roads and an accountable public governance, and police and firemen and free schools, just like I like not having holes on my teeth. So please don’t player hate.

Then the doc herself came and checked me out.

Her father was a dentist, and her husband is an oral surgeon (he took out my four wisdom teeth). Teeth are just in her genes.

And then, only after the dentist agreed to be pictured, would the hygenist come out of the shadows.

So it sucked. The vibrating chisel and the scraper right up against your gums drive me fucking insane. But i do it because its good for me.

And yet the real punch in the balls was yet to come, as one of our drives on our unity (the 3.2 terrabyte storage unit that holds all the footage of every job we work on) failed and took 40% of digitized clips out. Yes, about 20 hours of material, most of which I digitized, I now have to redo all throughout this weekend. Oh joy!

Daisy

I should have known something so beautiful would come with hidden barbs.

Hot diggity…

For the first time, someone has asked to be on Shut The Fuck Up, Dizzle. Usually, I am afraid people won’t let me post them, I inform them if they are there and give them a chance to complain. But asking? Cool shit.

So here, faithful reader, appear.

If anyone can tell me who owns this beautiful cleavage, I shall give you a bottle of tequila (cleavage girl herself excluded from contest).

Friday’s here baby, can you feel it? CAN YOU FEEL IT INSIDE?

Shafts and boobs…

This morning, the elevator just dropped a couple of floors and some people got stuck, so all these fire engines came.

Looks like the original sim city or grand theft auto.

After a shitty day of box moving, Patrick and I played some pool, and visited an orchard.

He is better than I am and I hate that, but I went 3-1 on nineball, where there is some luck involved. Then he beat me a set at eightball stylings.

Instead of doing my laundry (postponed until Saturday), I rushed over to the upper west to catch the last two hours of poker cash game.

When you get there, you have to kiss the boobs.

I was in for 40 dollars pretty quick, which I then made back with my last rebuy.Bombus left early with 50 bucks (I don’t think I could ever leave early if I was big stack, I would always want to swallow just a bit more).

Then it was john and I with 40 bucks each (after I took out Dave), and we could have just split it again (see previous post re: losers game), me running out even John up by ten, but pokerholics that we are, we kept playing, setting a max number of hands at ten. We exchanged blinds and a few bucks here and there, until the last hand. Hes got ace jack suited hearts, I got fours. He bets ten before the flop, I call, 3 5 6 come out, with two hearts, and my straight draw, we both go all in. No heart comes, fours take it.

I walk out with 80 dollars, 40 profit,

John with 5.

Buyakashaw! I love poker!

Oh, I almost forgot. Jim’s ipod was on random, when a cover of that Seven nation Army came on by some techno dudes. Then the very next song was Seven nation Army itself by the Stripes. Isn’t randomness inclredible?

John and I thought so, this is us right when we noticed it.