Paging Mr. Herman!

I've been a fan of eternal man-child Pee-wee Herman for as long as I can remember.  I watched the Saturday morning TV show religiously, screaming REEEEEAAAAALLLLL LOUD whenever anyone said the secret word and scaring the shit out of my mother on more than one occasion.  Pee-wee and I went to the Alamo looking for his bike in Pee-wee's Big Adventure, we joined the traveling circus in Big Top Pee-wee, and I was front row center during his Playhouse stage show in 2010 (though he was on his own in that movie theatre in Florida, I swear!).  Hell, Pee-wee Herman is practically a religion to me, so you know I was a five year old screaming REEEEEAAAAALLLLL LOUD at the rare public screening of his new film Pee-wee's Big Holiday at the 92Y Tuesday night, and on a meka leka high yesterday at the Sirius Town Hall, where I finally got to meet Pee-wee's alter ego Paul Reubens in person! 

Lust in the...

Broadway legend Lainie Kazan understudied for Streisand, opened for Rickles and made movies with Sinatra and Raquel Welch.  She was a regular on The Nanny and The Dean Martin show, and starred in My Big Fat Greek Wedding and it's recent sequel, but if that's not already touching the top several times she starred in the bawdy cult classic Lust in the Dust with Divine, the most beautiful woman in the world, and that's what made me want this photo.

Hey! Ho! Let's Go!

New York City is a pretty badass place to live.  Back in the day, it was a beautifully ravaged city reeking of sewage, sex, crime and sweat, inspiring the genius of Warhol, Haring, Basquiat and Kenny Scharf.  Clubs like CBGB and Max's Kansas City ruled the scene, and Patti Smith, Iggy Pop, Lou Reed and Blondie were its kings and queens. 

You can smell the history in the streets, so when you run into someone like punk rock icon Marky Ramone, drummer for one of the greatest rock and roll bands in history, not only do you take a picture but you take a moment to say thank you.

Oh God, Not Another Post About a Supermodel

It's no secret that I love supermodels, but I am so bored with the current supermodel vacuum of Instagram narcissism, arrogance and absolute superiority over the rest of the less attractive human race (I'm talking to you Kendall Jenner).  I really miss the days when supermodels were fun and had real personalities and dated rock stars and were on every cover and ad campaign.  I miss Cocaine Kate, Naomi throwing phones at her maid and Linda not getting out of bed for less than $10,000 a day, so when I was invited to an exhibit thrown by 90's supermodel turned photographer Helena Christensen you know I RSVP'd yes!  Twice!

One of Victoria's Secret's original angels, Helena got the covers of Vogue, Elle, Harper's Bazaar, and W, did campaigns for Revlon, Hermes, Versace and Chanel, walked all the big runways, was the sand encrusted girl on the beach in Chris Isaak's iconic Wicked Game video and boned Michael Hutchence and she's still ridiculously gorgeous 25 years later while I look like a mudslide.

Viva la Vida Indeed!

Gwyneth Paltrow has always struck me as a stuck up, snobby piece of stale gluten free pasta who gets weekly crushed moonstone enemas while humblebragging about the organic vegetables she's growing in a perfectly calibrated solar garden watered with fair trade swan tears imported from Holland, shanking the eye of judgment at the peasants unable to live up to her kale and kabbalah standards.  In other words, she's an insufferable cunt.


Chris Martin strikes me as a guy who'd like to have a burger and a pint at the pub with his buddies, so of course he's happy because how could you not be after consciously uncoupling from this bitch?

This Is What Happened to Baby Jane

Cryptozoology is a pseudoscience involving the search for creatures whose existence has not been proven due to lack of evidence.  Think Bigfoot, The Loch Ness Monster, unicorns, or a sober, upright Courtney Love.  If you're lucky enough to run across one of these creatures you damn sure better have your camera ready!


Tuesday night, Courtney woke from her daily coma, cleaned most of the way up, and left her home at the landfill not looking like a dozen seagulls pecked at her after she washed up on the shore to attend a party my boyfriend took me to.  Now, approaching Courtney Love for a photo is no small feat....it's like walking a tight rope over an active volcano sitting on a fault line.  One false step and you're fucked, 'cause she will go AT you!  Thankfully, the right mix of white wine and benzos put our girl in a good mood and I was able to take this photo without getting rejected, ripped a new asshole or a contact high.

Sashay Away

The last few times I've encountered RuPaul she's been as pleasant as an ingrown ass hair.  I remember this bitch before Drag Race was even a concept she stole, before her cosmetics contract, before her books and shitty music, before she appointed herself Supermodel of the World, back when she was a dumb drag queen prancing around Tompkins Square Park during Wigstock, so to see her try and shade me is a joke.  Bitch, I know what time you arrived and I know what time your segment airs, so you've got nothing to do but sit in the green room and wait.  Take a fucking second for a couple 'fans' you cunt.  Supermodel my ass!

Feel The Byrne!

Everybody's talking about Bernie Sanders like he's the second coming of Christ, (and let's face it, compared to Donald Trump he may be) but the Byrne I'm talking about is David Byrne, founding member, principal songwriter, and lead singer and guitarist of Talking Heads.  An avid cyclist, David was in conversation Wednesday night with former NYC Department of Transportation commissioner Janette Sadik-Khan about city planning and transforming NYC into a city full of safe spaces for pedestrians and bikers.  Zzzzzz.  So much for the 'wild, wild life.'

Still Burning Doin' the Neutron Dance

Anyone who grew up in the 70s and 80s knows the Pointer Sisters. My brother and I used to laugh at the one with the buck teeth whenever they came on MTV with their big hair, flashy clothes and garish makeup back when MTV played videos.  What can I say?  We were dumb kids and buck teeth were something you laughed at when I was a kid. 


I guess jumping for love does a body good, 'cause Ruth Pointer (not the one with the buck teeth) looked amazing making the rounds to promote her memoir, and she seemed genuinely surprised that anyone wanted a photo with her.  Truth is, it was only me....nobody else cared.

Some Pretty Boy I Don't Know

I don't know a god damn thing about this guy Nico Tortorella, but my friend Quique is in love with him and he was at the Today Show Wednesday, so I said 'What the fuck, let's take a picture!'


The end.

Pretty Boring

Caroline Wozniaki is a beautiful woman.  She's also boring as shit.  I was supposed to include her in my post about the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue but completely forgot because she's boring.  And now I'm struggling to find something interesting to write about her, and the only thing I can come up with is that my friend Joanne bodypainted her for the 2016 issue, and Joanne is much more interesting than Caroline is.  So there's that.

Beverly Hills Beef

Today is Super Tuesday, and by that I mean it's Tuesday, The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills is on tonight, and that's just super.  Newcomer Kathryn Edwards was brought on to stir up old school OJ-related beef with Kyle's best friend Faye, but that went nowhere fast and now she's just talking shit about America's favorite Housewife (who may or may not be a bitch) Erika behind her back.  Kathryn and HOT husband Donnie were in town last week, and while my friend Pavan was taking a picture with her Donnie was complaining about how cold NYC was and showing me his erect nipple, which isn't as hot as it sounds (thought it's still hot) because he had his damn shirt on.