A Webpage Devoted Entirely To Shit
I Like Without Any Concern For You Whatsoever
Beware that there may be material
and links on this page totally unsuitable for youngins and or right wing
conservatives. Thats the only warning youre gonna get so zy gazunt.
Thinking About Suicide?
Check Out My All NEW JOKES Page first. Then, Its Your Call :)
Heres a quick guide to this page. I start off with self serving rants about
anything that is particularly amusing to me at the moment in time that
I sit down and write. If your not interested in hearing my views on life,
which I completely understand because they're not always that amusing,
you can skip straight down to the pictures and links. The pics run the
gammit from my stoned out hippy days in college to the present. Feel free
to download them, put them into Photoshop, and stick John Holmes dick in
my mouth for distribution to all of your friends. Some more rants, my fabulous
jokes pages (there are now two), links that I think you may enjoy, and
my three Links pages. Perverts should skip straight down to my Links For
Somewhat Less Than Normal People, click on Pirate Links, and get the kleenex
ready. Now, on with the rants......
Tramps Like Us...
Talk about dichotemy. Friday April 14th the stock market drops
600 plus points and I find myself seconds away from wearing a barrel and carrying a
will blow you for food sign. Saturday I'm in the first row at the Bruce Springsteen
& the E Street Band concert in of all places Louisville, Kentucky. On this particular
Saturday, Louisville is deeply entrenched in its Thunder over Louisville mania which is
the kickoff to a three week Kentucky Derby celebration. With the largest fireworks celebration
in the US and an impressive airshow over the River, nearly a million overweight inbred
mutants with
bad skin and even worse orthadonture and their offspring converge on Louisville for what is
clearly the biggest Kentuckian event of the year. Dentists and dermatologists listen up.
Who wants to be a millionaire? Pack your bags and head south my friends. This is your territory.
I will skip my opinion on the advertisement I saw on CBS TV in Louisville starring Baileyforlife.com
and the endless array of unborn fetus's. Suffice to say it was the most graphic and disturbing ad
I've ever seen and just reaffirms my opinion that the extreme right need some intensive therapy.
That being said, we did meet some great people in Louisville, but clearly the freak show
took center stage.
Thank God the Springsteen concert was so friggin' great. Three hours plus of the Rock and Roll we
grew up living and loving. If you haven't yet seen him on this tour,
run don't walk to your local ticket scalper and get your hands on some tickets. The band rocks just
like they did when we were young and innocent (so very long ago), and this could well be your last
opportunity to experience the legend of the Boss. Baby we were born to run....
Another Thousand Years of Torture
How about that wacky 1999 huh? First massive Y2K paranoia. Everybody
running around upgrading their computers (Microsoft conspiracy no doubt) in between trips
to Smart & Final/Costco/SamsClub to load up on Tuna packed in water and Freeze Dried Yak Sticks.
Then you leave little notes to the ultimate fighting machine wrestler guy who doubles as your
Arrowhead water guy that we may just need an extra bottle or two of the distilled water this month
(distilled because when the government releases the biological weapons into the atmosphere
to retake control over a rioting society, the organisms that live in mountain spring water will
multiply in size a gazillionfold and turn your pretty bottle of Arrowhead spring water into a
new millenium paramecium juice with amoeba flavored concentrate yummm).
So you've finally done your armageddon shopping, fixed
your computers, and now the fun starts. Its the 1999 Christmas shopping season, and of course,
you have to figure out what the hell you will be doing for the impending New Years Eve. From an
economic standpoint, its been a very good year which means you can go balls to the wall shopping
for your friends and family, not to mention little old you. Online, in malls, it doesn't matter
where, just spend it. New cooler toys, fab clothes, music (Ricky Martin, oh my God, its Ricky Martin!!),
books (New York Noir or Fetishes? You decide), just go nuts. It may all be over on the
1st anyway so live it up. But this New Years Eve thing......that's a problem. Vegas at $600/nite
with a 5 nite minimum complete with Barbara Streisand (She'll always be Babs to me) or Bette Midler or Rod Stewart
ringing in the New Year for a mere $1000/ticket? $1000 a TICKET??? Is she gonna blow me for a G?
I think not. How about dinner out for $300/person
here close to home? Maybe but what are the other choices? Party at Ron Meyers house in Malibu? Not invited.
Shit. Oh well.....I'll figure it out. Just get me through the month of December.........
Made it through the month. Went to the Christmas parties I couldn't get out of. Gave all
the chazas their gifts. Settled out the year with my partners. And most shockingly, I made it through
New Years Eve at the restaurant close to home. Turns out, the dinner was fantastic, the wines were
brilliant, and the company better yet. Amazingly, the hype didn't kill the night. But....the
overindulgance of wine did wipe out my usually respectable resistance to the flu. Unfortunately the recent strain which has hit LA
is a mother fucker and I am at this writing one very miserable son of a bitch. It's been a week and
the flu seems very comfortable parked here in my wretched body. Officially, I have hacked up
enough green and yellow objects d' arte for the next thousand years and the super charged designer
antibiotics im forced to take are wreaking havok on my ability to be with myself if you get my drift
and with that my friends, we are talking war......Y2K aint got nothin' on this flu.
Georgie, You Roll Up the Bill, I'll Lay Out the Lines
Please excuse this not up to par in the humour department rant but we are coming up on another election and the bozos are back
What is it with politicians that they just can't cop to being human? Whether its Clinton getting
his snake drained, or now Georgie Jr. with the tales of cokelore, why can't they just admit to doing the things
we've all done and move on with their sheltered lives? We can accept their faults, in fact we
can respect them for their faults. It indears them to the rest of the philandering mediocratites
of the world, myself included. "I haven't done
drugs in seven years. I mean ten years. No, make that twenty years." Who gives a rats ass?
All we're asking for is a somewhat honest, relatively intelligent person without an overactive trigger finger
to keep this monsterous ship afloat as we live out the few remaining years of our pathetic lives
on this planet. Is that too fuckin' much to ask???? Apparently so. Sheesh.
Two Jews
Analyze this Billy Crystal, you lucky, no talent, nearly fell off the celebrity radar but for the real talent of Bobby DeNiro in a
brilliant performance saving a mediocre movie that salvaged your plummeting career. I dreamt last night that I was opening for
Dom Irerra at the Wilshire Theatre. I have no comedy act, so I'm furiously backstage trying to write one, when Lenny Bruce comes
up to me and starts ranting about sociopolitical issues. So now I'm stuck deciding between sharing quality time with a comedy legend,
or writing a comedy act so I don't totally bomb out in front of 3000 people on stage. I've got a few jokes burned into my brain about acid
reflux and two Jews in a bar, but I desperately need to write them down before they evaporate. Lenny Bruce is not letting up. He's hilarious
and hypnotic, I'm nervous and unable to give him the attention he deserves. I've gotta get to a quiet place and put together this fuckin' act quick.
I estimate 30 minutes before being called to the stage. Fortunately for me, Lenny's nervous too. He hasn't been onstage himself in a while
and finally decides that some quiet time might do him some good and takes off. I can concentrate on the task at hand. I sit down and refine
my acid reflux joke, determine that the two Jews walk into a bar joke (they buy it) can actually be expanded and weaved into a recurring piece
thruout the act with the premise that one Jew is trying to buy the punchline from the other so he can get out of the joke. He's got business to
attend to and being stuck in this joke is keeping him from it. Turns out the joke works, I'm a hit in my standup debut, Dom Irerra thinks I've got
a future in this business, Lenny Bruce and I decide to develop a project for cable (we can't work within the constraints of Network TV), and I
have to go hire one of those fancy, Porsche driving accountants to the starts to count all the money. And then I woke up. True story. Thank you.
Thank you very much.
The Ebay Way
Looking for the perfect gift for that special someone? How about the Pig
Paper Punch (Must See!) or the fabulicious Trout
Testicles in Sauce , 3 Cans for $6?? If your looking to write a thesis
on the way the Internet has changed commerce in modern day society you
need go no further than Ebay.com . I
discovered Ebay a few months ago and my life will never be the same. Here's
the deal. Ebay facilitates online auctions of anything and everything you
can possibly imagine. Once consummated, the buyer and seller arrange for
payment and shipping, and Ebay gets their piece of the action. The good
news is that Ebay is a 24 hour a day International garage sale making every
useless piece of shit buried in your attic a valuable commodity. Ol Jed's
a Millionaire!!
The only problem with all this is that you can instantly become an Ebay
addict as I have. You no longer need to leave your house to spend next
weeks paycheck. Of course, AOL has already figured this out and are looking
to figure how to take advantage of the fact that Ebay has the highest retention
rate on the internet. Addicts like myself spend an average of 20 minutes
on Ebay each time they log on to the sight. We bid on shit we don't need,
end up remorseful and poorer from the experience, then turn around and
resell it to another poor schmuck who proudly displays it on a shelf in
their two bedroom, formica adorned Goodlife trailer with high speed internet
access. Gotta love America....
Lucy......I'm Home!!
Enough about Clinton and the farsical, bad sitcomlike impeachment. I just
got back from the last vestige of a Starbucksless society on this earth
otherwise known as Habana, Cuba, and it was, to say the least, an amazing
journey. Take two parts Happy Days sans the Fonz, one part A/K/A Pablo
(A/K/A Who?) and mix in Woody Allen's classic, Bananas, and my friend,
you must now wear your underwear on the outside because you're smack dab
in the middle of the land time forgot. At this writing, two weeks later,
I'm still in the depths of nicotine withdrawl from the 24 hour a day cigar
smoking marathon sessions, and, the oh so delicious Rum has finally weasled
its way out of my blood stream. The national drinks, both Rum based, are
a Mojita which includes sugar, mint, and something sour, and the Habana
Libre which is your basic Rum and coke. I think its called a Habana Libre
but that may be the name of a hotel which leads me to conclude I had too
many of whatever it is they're called.
The people of Cuba are a happy bunch given their circumstances. There
are two economies that co-exist, one for tourists fueled entirely by US
Dollars, and the other for everyone else. Our guide's father, a top Nephrologist
in Havana, earns $28/month, shops in Cuban stores buying only Cuban made
goods (try the toothpaste...yummm), while his son the hotel bellhop makes
around $600/mo and can afford the things that a scant few in Cuba can.
Hotel workers and taxi drivers live in the tourist economy world fueled
by guest tips, everyone else lives in the "real" world. One person in our
party waited a half hour in line to get an authentic Cuban ice cream cone,
only to be ridiculed when he presented a $20 bill to pay, with the end
result being a hasty exit keep the change thank you very much for the $20
ice cream cone experience. No big deal to us, 10,000% increase in gross
earnings reported in the fourth quarter for the ice cream vendor. We brought
along a suitcase full of little gifts (regalitos) that we liberally distributed
to everyone in sight. Aspirin, gum, vitamins, and other shit you can get
in the 99 cent store goes along way in Cuba in making new friends. When
we sat down to dinner in someones home (you can get a license to serve
up to three tables in your home) there were items on the menu for a quarter
(rice and beans). A FRIGGIN QUARTER. When was the last time you saw anyone
actually spend the money for the ink to print a menu item for a quarter?
You have to go out of your way to hit double digits eating a meal out in
Havana, tho we managed to succeed in our mission on several occasions.
The music is the message in Havana and we managed to see alot of local
Salsa while we were there. Clearly thats a good part of what keeps the
people so damn happy.
The architecture in Havana is truly beautiful and if it weren't in such
disrepair, you could be standing in a piazza in Florence. The lack of maintenance
is striking and only accented by the beautiful columns and arches falling
apart in the forefront of the buildings. At the same time, this is possibly
the cleanest city I've ever seen. Picture the South Bronx without all the
shit on the streets and your there. Twenty seven people living in a one
bedroom apartment is pretty much the standard, but they are for the most
part twenty seven happy people. They drink and smoke and eat and hang out
and have no idea what time it really is. No walkmans or watches, gameboys
or dvd's. Life is simple and people manage to be jolly even though this
is the first year that Santa may actually drop by (this is the first year
that Christmas is officially celebrated thank you Pope John Paul II).
You feel surprisingly safe in Havana, partially because of the massive
Police presence whose primary objective is the safety and security of the
relished tourist. At the same time, the police are constantly questioning
the locals, requesting proper id, and engaging in dialouge with them that
you have no desire to be a part of. It seems to border on harassment, but
as a stranger in a strange land it gives you a feeling that if anyone fucks
with you, they're doomed to spend the rest of there lives in a midnight
express like nightmare. So inquire away my friends in uniform, I'm on your
side.
Thats what I can tell you here without breaking the pact. (Insert secret
handshake here) In summary, this is the last vestige of a capitalist free
society and it should be seen by whomever can manage to get over there
before Benelton beats you to it. Capitalist invasion is inevitable and
more than likely just around the corner. Its currently not illegal to go
Cuba, just illegal to spend money there. We actually had treasury licenses
in conjunction with the International Film Festival which made it all kosher,
but almost everyone we met was there without official US sanction. I took
a shitload of pictures there so feel free to scroll down to see a few I've
got posted (more to come as I get them developed). Hasta lluego....
Whats the frequency, Kenneth?
I pray this will be my Clinton Scandal swan song and by the time I'm due
for another rant, the powers that be will conclude that piss poor sexual
judgement on the part of an oversexed leader of the free world is not in
fact an impeachable offense, but cause for a swift slap on the wrist and
fourty free psychotherapy sessions with Dr. Ruth. This last month has been
an eventful one beginning with Wild Bill's admission of an "improper" relationship
with the chubster, followed by the release of the Starr report, the Grand
Jury videotaped testimony, followed by more of the Starr report, and after
all that, the Republicans are still scratching there balls wondering why
the American people dont want this President impeached. WAKE UP HOMER.
He may be a raincoat donning pervert, but hes done a damn good job running
the country the past six years. Unlike the impotent, budget busting, racist,
extremist right wing bozos that preceded him, we now have a balanced budget
and strong economy. SO LAY THE FUCK OFF!!! You've already cost me a shitload
of dough in the crashing and burning stock market. Leave well enough alone.
Sheeeesh.......
So He Blasted a Load on a Fat Homely Intern's Face
Dan Quale makes me want to vomit. And if you saw the Nightline that followed
the Presidents address to the nation where that Howdy Doody Lookalike Half
Fag Qualeturd babbled on incoherantly about Clintons inevitable impeachment,
Im sure you felt the same way (At least I hope you did). Dan Quale is a
fuckin loser and his chances of being elected to run as the Republican
candidate for President in the year 2000 are NIL and if (God forbid) he
is elected, I'm packing my Jenna Jameson videos and DSS satellite dish
and moving to Kamchatka.
Now I love the chick who writes Cyber-Sleaze
and accordingly offer you an excerpt from her column dated August 18th
highlighting this whole Clinton/Lewinsky saga:
"Now the question is - since we have elected and reelected a President
who smoked pot, got in trouble for shady business deals, has a brother
who was a coke dealer and has repeatedly and publicly cheated on his wife
does that mean that all of that behavior is okay now?? Or does it mean
that we will want to elect a "morally upright politician" (which is a bloody
oxymoron if I had ever heard one...) to undue the lasting smear on the
morals of the Presidential office. On one hand the next President who publicly
admits he committed adultery in the White House will be old news, on the
other, I don't think anyone (except for the news networks) want to go through
this whole nasty mess again any time soon. Will we end up witnessing a
countrywide swing to the political right?? I hope and pray that the fallout
of this scandal is NOT an increase in the membership of the Christian Coalition,
but I fear that because of Bill's overpowering need for oral sex on the
job, our next President will probably be someone who does NOT cheat on
his wife, but who DOES think that abortion should be illegal and that homosexuality
is a disease that can be cured. And that, my friends, sucks harder than
Monica Lewinsky."
Devil With the Jizz Dress
Now my opinion on the Monica Lewinsky blowing President Clinton scandal
may not be original, but I'm the one paying $19.95 to maintain this internet
account and for that measly sum, I get to air it here. Clinton has done
a great fuckin job as President of this Country. The economy is strong,
unemployment is down, the stock market has made every moron with a dartboard
a millionaire, and despite all of that, Clinton has managed to attain this
economic bliss while maintaining a social conscious for whats going on
in the world around him. He hasn't ignored those in need, he's been a strong
proponent of human rights, womens right to choose, and many of the other
issues that have been important during my lifetime. Now Im too young to
have been appreciative of the Kennedy Presidency, but I've never experienced
a President that has done so much right in my adult life, and I imagine
that its very similar to the way people felt about Kennedy. So now whats
the big fuckin dealio if he blew a few loads, maybe gave Monica a pearl
necklace or two? He's a man damnit and men are friggin animals. At times
were merely dogs in heat. A mans dick can have its own mind and sometimes
theres a hostile takeover where the dick cells lock the brain cells in
the mind closet and take over the controls. Its not pretty but thats the
way it is and has been since the beginning of time. The Eurotrash know
it and laugh at we stupid Americans obsessing over this like its a real
news story. If he jizzed on her dress, so what? So he lied. We made him
lie by imposing our backward right wing Christian values on him and acting
as if he was something other than what he is which is just another horney
guy. Cut Bill Clinton some slack and let him keep doing what he does so
well and if he needs to jack off on some fat interns tits once in a while,
hand him a fuckin kleenex. And while your at it, ship Linda Tripp and her
bitchass uglyface punim to Mars and give Kenneth Star a copy of Screw Magazine
so he can finally see what a real pussy looks like. Enough already....
My Fickle Friend, The Summer Wind
What with the hoopla surrounding the final episode of Seinfeld, and my
dedication to the People Poll starring Hank
the Angry, Drunken, Dwarf , its been a while since I've focused on
my original mission with this webpage, the rant. Well, I'm back with a
vengance. Its Memorial Day, the gateway to summertime when the livings
easy, right? Guess again. We work hard and try to do the right thing, yet
obstacles are consistently thrown into the mix just to fuck with our heads.
Three months go bye, your in a groove, work is cool, things at home are
clicking, and out of nowhere, a curveball to remind you that all is not
perfect in your little fantasy world. Mine was work related and I wouldn't
bore you with the details, but it whisked me out of Happyland and dropped
me right into the heart of Valiumville. Damn, what did I do to deserve
that? I have a few friends whose parents are gravely ill, their marriages
are crashing and burning, their kids are sniffing Carbona and having unprotected
sex in the bathroom at Chuck-E-Cheese. And these are good, caring, never
so much as stepped on a helpless bug folks. It just seems that when life
is too damn good, the guy upstairs always finds the need to throw a wrench
in the works and screw it all up. And its not like its limited to the Judao/Christian/Buddhist/Muslim
religions either. Converting to that new age religion started by the musically
talented but dermologically deprived driver of your local Dominoes is not
gonna protect you. God is an equal opportunity mind fucker. But please
dont drink the poison, get up there and tell him I said so.
Now to add insult to my weeks injury, Sinatra
passed away. I fortunately saw him at the Hollywood Bowl around ten years
ago when he wasn't exactly at his peak, but it was before his voice totally
tanked and he still had some semblance of where and who he was. Yesterday,
I was listening to Sinatra at the Sands with Count Basie, and I could almost
see him there, drink in one hand, cigarette in the other, making eyes at
the insurances salesmans wife in the third row. Love him or not, he was
the representative for the "its ok to smoke, drink, and bang any chick
you can get your hands on" generation, and its a shame he's gone. Now its
uncool to drink, smoke, or have sex, and we're stuck with oxygen bars serving
herbal smart drinks as our watering holes for the 21st century. Please,
put a bullet in me now. When I was in college, we knew it wasn't good to
drink or smoke, but we did it anyway, and sex was most definitely considered
healthy. Sure, you could get crabs, but thats why Quell shampoo was invented.
And the other sexually transmitted diseases were cured with a little yellow
pill and a short sabbath prayer. I guess that was the tail end of a carefree
era and Sinatra was the Godfather. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll (hey,
he covered Mrs. Robinson) were cool, baby. Coo coo ca choo....
Do I Have Rings?
If you've never been to an Irish Catholic wedding, and I hadn't up until
recently, you've never lived. I had the distinct honor of being the best
man at my good friend fearless Franks fabulous wedding to his soon to be
shellshocked bride Lisa a few weeks ago. Lets begin with the morning of
the ceremony. The tuxedo rental company drops off my tux a half hour before
the traditional taking of pictures and whaddya know, my pants are six inches
too short bringing back the worst of possible childhood highwater memories.
I'm sweating like Albert Brooks in Broadcast News and it turns out that
this was my good friend Frank's idea of humor. Everyones in on the joke
but me and I feel like a complete moron throughout the picture taking process
only to be given the "real" pants just before heading off to the church.
Thanks Frank. On to the church... To bring in the happy couple, the church's
resident organist (a stunning woman) butchers the hell out of Bruce Springsteens
"Backstreets" so that its totally unrecognizeable. Then, while up at the
pulpit for what seemed like 40 days and 40 nights, the priest decided to
get contemporary on us and refer to the Beatles "All You Need Is Love".
The All You Need Is Love shtick went on and on and on and on, and we half
expected him to pull out Gone With The Wind and start reading from chapter
1 page 1. "There was a land of Caviliers and cottenfields called the old
South". I could have easily written the code to solve the year 2000 problem
in the time that it took for the preacher to get to the "I Do's". When
he finally turned to me and asked for the ring, I coudn't help myself.
"Rings, do I have rings?" "You looking for something nice in a 14 karat?".
Insert rimshot here. But true..
When the ceremony finally ended, all of us older and wiser, we ventured
over to the Allwhite Golf and Tennis Resort for the reception. Being the
best man, I was elected to give the traditional best man toast. My initial
plan was to open with "Speaking for those of us who killed your lord",
but I was convinced that it wouldnt go over well in the room, so I immediately
transitioned to plan B which was a more touching version of what great
people they are and how I wished them all the luck in the world. No mention
of hookers, drugs, or all the other great stories I had written out on
the napkin. Applause, applause, and then the dog whistle like signal that
its time for everybody to start drinking themselves into oblivion. And
drink they did. Halfway through the ceremony, the maid of honor is shitfaced
and grinding on the dancefloor with a friend of Franks, her boyfriend fuming
at the table. We were inches away from a full blown out wedding brawl which
would have clearly made the highlight reel. I, naturally was egging the
guy on. "Go ahead, the guys a loser. Dance with her." Drink drink drink,
dance dance dance, drink some more, and by the end of the reception, it
was like Fat Tuesday on Bourbon Street. Everybody stumbled there way back
to the hotel, tuxedos stained with alcohol and wedding cake, to continue
the party in the lucky couples hotel room blaring an altered version of
Chumbawamba's Tubthumper that went like this, "I got no time, for my underwear,
cause I'm never gonna leave the house". That pretty much says it all. Color
me sold on Catholic weddings....
She Blew My Nose and Then She Blew My Mind
My last trip to Las Vegas was a wonderful fantasy like adventure that I
feel I must share. A private jet (obviously paid for by some unscrupulous
entertainment industry executive) whisk myself and 25 or so other shmoozese
to the executive terminal of McLarren airport, Las Vegas, where a car from
the Hard Rock pick us all up mogul style and drop us off at the hotel.
Not a bad start, eh? Guess again. An hour later I'm down $1500 at the craps
table and things aren't looking quite so rosy. Just then, the great allmighty
decides it's time to bless one whose been good all year and brings forth
a roller who manages to sustain a roll of fourty five minutes (for those
of you who dont play craps it's the equivalent of a fourty five minute
orgasm) and I go from being down $1500 to up $3000. At that point, I realize
theres nowhere to go but down and I cheerfully cash in my chips and head
up to the room where I can hyperventilate(ie:mastubate) in the privacy
of my soon to be comped hotel room. One private party later, Im in a cab
on my way to the MGM to see the Stones, 10th row ticket clenched in hand.
The show fuckin rocked and its at that point I realize that its time to
stop bitching about my age and just enjoy the ride. If Keith Richards can
have fun, so can I. The Stones are amazing live and if you have the opportunity,
make it a point to see them on this tour. Like Sinatra (who I saw several
years ago), you really dont know how many more times there gonna be out
there and should therefore make it a point to see them before they realize
how old they really are. After the show, a little more gambling (I gave
back $500 in about 30 seconds), a trip around the Hard Rocks circular bar
which is populated by an endless cache of scantily clad twentysomethings
all looking for Mick Jagger to show up so they can show him the new Bohemian
fuck basket they just bought, then, a quick foray to Club Paradise (a strip
club conveniently located directly across the street from the Hard Rock),
a little hooker dodging in the parking lot on the way back to the hotel
(they will blow you for a quarter), and I'm back in my room, the day just
a pleasant memory. The next morning its breakfast, check out, (yep, the
room is comped), and back on the jet to LA. I think I can die now....
Brandy in Concert on the 1999 Never Say Never tour shot by yours truly, pro photographer wannabe extraordinaire. Pictures are copyright
Me. Any unauthorized use will be punished by a slow painful death involving ice picks and Dan Quayle
speeches on a loop tape. Brandy's official fan club can be found HERE .
Me,
Jonathan, Albert and some American broads at the home of Corda, the
famous Cuban photographer. The picture in the background of Che is purportedly
the most published photograph ever.
Yours
truly at the Univ of Buffalo. Some head of hair huh?
More
me in the early 90's, this time with a friend's baby in preparation
of one day being a really overbearing father. I could excell at this father
thing....
My
dad getting wasted at a Veterans of Foreign Wars party in NYC. I seem
to remember an awful lot of parties thrown while I was working there for
the summer, long hair and all. Veterans of Foreign Wars do know how to
party.
My
mom and dad run the Boynton Beach chapter of the Hells Angels. If your
looking for liquid methedrine or high powered assualt rifles, email me
and I'll hook you up.
Bruce
Springsteen 70's rock 'n roll God. Photo taken by yours truly, stoner
photographer, at a venue in Buffalo, NY. I cant remember the name
of the place but I vaguely remember an amazing concert. For bootlegs and
other assorted Springsteen paraphanalia check out The
Backstreets Highway. This guy is a serious fan!
------>Links to Other Good Shit<------
Househunting
in Los Angeles is about as much fun as that rectal exam that comes
along with my annual physical.
The
Joke Page. A selection of particularly funny stuff emailed to me by
my so called friends. Trust me on this one.
The
Joke Page Part Deux. continues in the tradition of the original. I
have personally waded through all the shitty jokes from the 47 joke mailing
lists I'm on to reproduce these pearls just for you. And believe me I read
alot of dreck to get you these....
Email me if you'd like to be added to my own joke mailing list.
The Onion is probably the funniest online newspaper on the internet.
Major award winner. You've gotta check it out.
Twenty Questions pits you against the computer in a game of artificial
intelligence.
Crime Scene Cleaners will clean the blood stains from your carpet after
your weekly cult mass suicide ritual. A must for every rolodex.
Dead Celebrities Society gives you all the sick jokes you could want
to hear about our recently departed famous friends. Gene Autry is the most
recent entry at this writing. The guy stays current...
Cyber-Sleaze
is a daily gossip column that pulls no punches. Its a refreshing change
from E-Online and the other "corporate" entertainment webpages.
The
Drudge Report likewise has a fresh and seemingly unedited opinion on
whats going on not only in show business, but politics and current events
as well. It also has an awesome links page to every columnist you can imagine.
Yahoo
Games is the leader in multiuser online board games like poker, blackjack,
chess, and bridge. They also have adventure, role playing, and strategy
games but Im way too addicted to Yahoo Poker to check them out.
Acrophobia
is my new favorite way to kill time on the web. Its an online word
game (acronym, get it?) that pits you against other "too much time on there
hands" individuals. I frequent Sugar Shack and my bud Dan has a page Shack
Sweet Bytes that memorializes the folks that waste precious time along
with me.
The
New York Post online! How cool is that? Do you miss Page 6? Well its
there for ya....
My hero,
Howard Stern. Can Kenneth Keith Kallenback really blow smoke out of
his eyes? Is Melrose Larry for
real? Whats next, a Big Black page?
Wanna see Howard's E Show the way it was meant to be, Tits
and All? How about a Nicole
Bass homepage? Paleeez...
Brandy in Concert on the 1999 Never Say Never tour shot by yours truly, pro photographer wannabe extraordinaire. Pictures are copyright
Me. Any unauthorized use will be punished by a slow painful death involving ice picks and Dan Quayle
speeches on a loop tape. Brandy's official fan club can be found HERE .
The Onion is probably the funniest online newspaper on the internet.
Major award winner. You've gotta check it out.
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Me How You Stumbled Onto This Page And I'll Free One Hostage
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