Saturday, August 30, 2008

I am a Machine.

But not one of those evil goddamn robots.

Anyway, a while back I entered a hamburger eating contest. It was everything I dreamed it would be and more. I had been meaning to blog about it for a long time, but thanks to the directorial/editorial genius of Oach, I can do one better than that, and show you.


The Eating Contest from Campsite Studios on Vimeo.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Ah, Summer Weekends

Hi folks,

It's been a while since I've shown my own photos on the blog, instead preferring to find silly pictures and Microsoft Paint creations that serve little purpose but to add to what I imagine is a giant file of questionable google searches compiled by some poor IT watchman at my place of employ.

Like that.

I've decided, therefore, to focus on what I did this past weekend. Oach and I had guests stay with us, as we often do. Our apartment, being situated as it is in the wilds of Astoria, makes it a convenient stop-over for friends, family, acquaintences and grifters who are visiting the city. We run a pretty good flophouse, I guess is the right word.

This weekend it was Zippy and Kaz, pictured here:

Note: They're the ones looking up. Though I admit, the guy in the foreground looks like he could be a Zippy.

Kaz and Zippy are old college chums of mine and Oach's. They were on their way to Greece to take a cruise around the islands there, and stayed with us as a pre-vacation warm up, I suppose. I was pretty jealous of them, but managed to feel better by subjecting them to my China slideshow. Suckas.

As NYC savvy readers may recognize, this picture was taken at Rockefeller Center, a good tourist stop for any visit, especially in winter, when you can watch people fall down in the skating rink. It is endless fun. However, no skating was to be had in the middle of August so we busied ourselves with looking up at 30 Rock.


After that we galavanted around FAO Schwartz, though I'm sorry to report I neglected to take photos there. Zippy has a pretty good one of me trying on a Harry Potter Sorting Hat. It didn't talk at all, so it must have been a defective one. That's ok, I know to which house I belong anyway.

No matter how many disagreements Harry Potter fans have, we can all agree that Hufflepuff sucks.

After that little adventure, it was off to a long subway ride which took us to Coney Island! Woo hoo!

I had never been to Coney Island, despite living in Queens for 13 months and in Staten Island for some time before that. Hey, I just realized something.

New York City : Staten Island :: Hogwarts : Hufflepuff

Neat. I <3 href="">
It's prettier at night, but that's true for a lot of things in Brooklyn.

Kaz and Zippy had been hoping to see a Mets game, but they were on the road. As a substitute, they procured tickets to a Brooklyn Cyclones game. Here's where the narrative breaks down.

The tickets clearly said the game was to start at 6:00 PM. However, due to rains, they turned the night into a double-header and started the game at 5:00 PM. That's fine, but we had no way of knowing that, and it was Free Visor Night.

Needless to say, by the time we got there at 6:00, all the visors were gone. We were pretty bitter about the whole experience, and felt betrayed by Brooklyn. Even with that great disappointment, it is still my third favorite borough. The game moved at a snail's pace. I mean, it was slow even by baseball standards.

This is actually a video.

Thankfully, us visorless fans found ways to amuse ourselves, even in the blinding, non-visor-obstructed sunlight.

We quickly fell upon the children's games section of the baseball programme. Having disposed of the actual games quite rapidly, the next logical step was to find words in the word search puzzle that were not intended to be there, and also to map every possible way of solving the maze.

Call me old-fashioned, but mazes shouldn't have that many options. Now there may be those of differing opinion, and I respect that. I'm just saying, if all mazes were this easy, then Danny Torrance would have been in a world of shit.

I am awarding myself bonus points for the double Kubrick reference.
+ 10

At any rate, the game raged (limped) on, and the Cyclones lost. Or maybe they won. Who knows? At any rate, we didn't stick around for the second game.

Afterwards we wandered around for a little bit, as I was bent on finding and eating frozen custard. The joke was on me, for although Coney Island created that refreshing miracle, it no longer plays host to it. What the Hell, Coney Island?

Our wandering was not in vain, however. While it's true we did not find any frozen custard, we did find the 'Shoot the Freak' Game.

Sorry this picture is dark, but well... it was getting dark out.

Basically the booth is self-explanatory. There is a guy in pads who is, ostensibly, the "Freak." He runs around downrange of a bank of paintball guns. You (I) pay money for an amount of paintballs which you (I) then use to shoot the freak. There are no prizes, except for the satisfaction felt when you pelt that freakin' freak, and hope he feels it.

My name is Rev, and I approve of sadism.

"SO DO I!!!!!!!"

Kaz managed to pop the freak in the face mask twice. Compounding my disappointment in Coney Island is the fact that my gun managed to explode the paintball immediately upon exiting the barrel. Of the 15 shots I had, about 6 actually made it downrange without spattering. Of those, 3 hit his shield, one or two went wide, but one found its way home.

By home, of course, I mean the nads. That single crotch shot was completely worth the price of admission.

Ok, Oach's mother is visiting now, so I'm going to wrap this up and go get some dinner. In summary, Bon Voyage, Kaz and Zippy. Enjoy your cruise. Everyone else, I'll catch you later.


PS - has anyone else noticed this?

Two time Olympic Gold Medalist in Beach Volleyball Kerri Walsh.

Star of X-Men 3 and actor of note Ben Foster.

I hope he plays her in the movie of the Beijing Olympic Beach Volleyball saga, entitled 'Red Sand.'

Friday, August 15, 2008

I've begun another.

Hi loyal blog readers and accidental guests.

Today I sat down to update this blog, but accidentally created an entirely different one, instead. Since I spent such time on it, I'll let you enjoy it instead of this. Here it is, and I'm really going to try to update it and this one more regularly than I have been.

No promises.



Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Further Recap Summer 08

Hi, how's it going? Cool.

I'm at one of those moments where I have plenty of time to do a blog entry, but no narrative framework in mind. Not that I ever end up sticking to those frameworks, but I usually have one or two pictures/concepts to share with you wonderful people. I'm kind of drawing a blank right now.

I know! I could talk about the Last Play at Shea Concert that I attended! I don't have my pictures from the event on me, but that's ok as I probably won't be posting this until I'm back where they are anyway (edit: not true, sorry).

Technically speaking it was the Next-to-Last Play at Shea Concert, because concert organizers are bags of dicks. I'll explain in a bit.

The aforementioned was the Billy Joel concert that took place in Shea Stadium. It was a big deal because Shea Stadium will soon be torn down in favor of Citi Field. So all you Mets fans that have never been to Shea better hurry up before it's gone, killed by a giant stadium that will be better at taking our money. Hopefully, it will also prove better at preventing you from falling to your death.

My concern is that the new place will not have the personality and warmth that I've experienced at Shea Stadium. Not from the fans, of course, but from the little touches. I hope they build a really awesome Apple in a Top Hat that pops up every time the Mets hit a home run.


Purists can sign an online petition to keep the original apple here.

I hope that Eddie Cow-Bellman continues to parade about, leading cheers and prompting countless millions of terrible Christopher Walken impressions.

The face of dedication.

Go ahead, say it. You know you can't help it.

Lastly and most importantly, I hope that Mr. Met stays with the team, despite the frequent rumors that he will take a leave of absence to run for political office.

He brings the oft-marginalized Baseball-American vote to the GOP

But enough exposition. The concert was advertised for a Wednesday night, and much promotion was done. A lot of effort went into getting online and making calls as soon as the tix went on sale. I use the passive voice intentionally, as I didn't personally make the effort. Regardless, tickets were secured and there was much rejoicing. The last concert at Shea Stadium! Hooray!

The next day we hear an announcement. Due to the high demand of tickets, another concert is being added to the lineup. On FRIDAY. Effectively giving a big fat middle finger to all of the people who tried so crazily and gave up sleep to get tickets in the first place. "JK, you're not really seeing the last concert. LOL!"

They speak this way in my imagination because it helps maintain my rage. Basically, this chicanery amounts to using blatant false advertising to sell out two concerts in 8 seconds instead of selling out two concerts over the course of several minutes.


In case you think I'm being overly crass and negative (Mom), let me remind you that this shady underhandedness also changed the concert itself.

Special guest appearances for the concert I saw:

Tony Bennett
John Mayer
Don Henley
John Mellencamp

Pretty cool, and it was a great time. Then I saw the Friday lineup:

Tony Bennett
Garth Brooks
Steven Tyler
Roger Daltrey

and, oh yeah:

Sir Paul McCartney.

Awesomeness is his resting state.

So yeah. Concert Organizers - and I type that with the utmost chagrin that I can only use an ambiguous title and am (at present) unable to identify any of them by name - a lot of people feel betrayed. It's not just me, check out message boards all over the interzone.

However, I must now temper my ranting and negativity by saying that I am positively thrilled and grateful to have gone to the Wednesday concert at all. More deserving people than I were unable to attend, and for that I'm sorry. I don't want to look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak.

That expression makes more sense now.

And to his credit, Mr. Joel himself acknowledged the switcheroo during the concert. I bear no ill will towards him, as he is a genius and a class act, let alone a musical legend.

Thank you, Mr Joel, for a fantastic evening.

You wouldn't happen to know where those organizers live, would you?