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Inappropriate Street Art

30 Mar

Buenos Aires  Cunt Crew

Dear Yolo,

A few years ago B and I decided to get our friend Jon a calendar for his birthday. A note about Jon: he is a great guy who gets disproportionately upset sometimes by people playing pranks on him (the fact that he gets annoyed in general makes it all the more tempting to do so). At the farmers’ market one time, someone convinced us to buy a bag of jujubes. Because they are disgusting and basically inedible, we decided to draw faces on all of them and hide them in Jon’s room (this is when he and B lived together). We hid about two dozen of them in corners, drawers and under things. Once he found one it didn’t take long to find almost all of them but we kept alluding that there were more hidden for months which sort of drove him nuts.

Of course we thought it would be a hilariously banal gift for someone whose birthday is the day after Christmas to get him a calendar. Also, we wanted to see the look on his face when he saw the pictures from the calendar we got him: Extraordinary Chickens. It is full of different chickens for twelve months, most of them are extraordinary, some hideous. Since then we have gotten him Extraordinary Pigs and a Toilets of the World calendar.

In keeping with the tradition we decided to go a slightly different route this year and are making him a homemade calendar: Inappropriate Street Art. I doubt he’ll be annoyed and will hopefully find this one amusing. Once we have gathered all of the photos we will put it together (maybe I should sell copies online). The difficult part is gathering all of the images. They have to be found and photographed by us (may change those rules depending on how many we find). We have five total so far. The above picture was taken in Buenos Aires and is one of my favorites. There is also a great picture of a sprayed painted penis on a bright yellow wall, a picture of kids showing their junk to each other I saw on a dumpster, and the following:

Mr. Cock - Bariloche, Argentina

While it isn’t technically street art, it is pretty funny. It’s a sign for a children’s clothing store in Bariloche that sells clothes for babies and kids up to 8 years old. I have a hard time believing they didn’t know what cock means in English (aside from rooster) but I’m glad they named it that.  My other faovrite is certainly not the prettiest, but I laughed really hard when I saw it on a dumpster outside our local Albertson’s in Los Feliz:

No Babies Dumpster Los Feliz, Los Angeles

The one next to it also says ‘no babies’. If I find more examples I will continue to post them because they make my day sometimes.




Shameless Discrimination Against the Lactose Intolerant + Cycling Race Photos

11 Mar

Dear Yolo,

I keep thinking about your tales of Argentinian chocolate and it makes me soooo hungry!

My report for the weekend is pretty weak. I hosted an epic brunch party with a couple of friends from my acting class on Saturday. And I mean EPIC. They showed up at 10:30 am and left at 7 pm. Epic.

Roscoe always goes on a long bike ride with the Brooklyn Peloton on Saturday mornings and doesn’t return until the afternoon so I have started turning Saturday mornings into brunch with friends time. I was kind of cranky about the whole thing because one of my friends (The Dane) brought his wife (also a Dane. It’s a marriage of convenience– they’re not romantic) and she is lactose fucking intolerant. First, let me say that he simply informed me via text that he was bringing her and that I didn’t invite her. I am a reasonable woman with reasonable interests that include but are not limited to eating and making brunch foods that involve a bounty of milk, butter, and/or cheese.

The Dane advises me that her lactose intolerance is severe. This is something that I feel I could completely deal with for a lunch or dinner, but brunch? No crepe, no waffles, no omelets, no quiche, no breakfast strata? This bitch.

And when I say “bitch’, I mean that the way rappers say it: affectionately. I don’t know her super well but she seems to be a very cool, nice, intelligent and talented Danish person (she’s a singer), etc.  I know it’s not her choosing to be lactose intolerant. Perhaps it is the great tragedy of her life. And I pity her for never knowing the comfort of a piping hot slice of pizza with tv-commercial stringy melty cheese, or a refreshing caprese salad, or buttery buttery croissants, the simplicity of a grilled cheese sandwich, brie, caramels, or endless pints of overpriced fancy ice cream made by artisans, not to mention CHOCOLATE. This also begs the question: what the hell does she eat when she’s sad?

As someone with French heritage, I am extremely suspicious of someone who cannot eat butter or cheese or dairy in any form. What’s next? No bacon? Ah yes; I will be sure in the future not to invite her at the same time as any of my practicing Jewish friends or else we’ll all end up eating breakfast salads or some total bullshit.

Also, (my insensitivity knows no bounds) can’t you just take drugs for this? Also, is it really that bad? For example, I have learned in the past year or two that if I eat a cheeseburger, I will become violently ill within 3-6 hours. This doesn’t stop me from eating the occasional cheeseburger three or four times a year. In fact, I ate one yesterday. And I still feel awful. Was this stupidity? No, it was an act of bravery. It is my refusal to let a cruel joke of Mother Nature’s quash my high calorie dreams of meat and cheese and special sauce between two buns. It is a noble defiance shared by people who have tigers or other large cats as domestic pets, or who live on the sides of cliffs, or in Kansas/Florida.

Anyway, back to the actual brunch we started with grapefruit brulee and I made Lactose Intolerant Lady a separate breakfast of baked eggs with some olive oil sauteed spinach, portobello mushrooms, bacon and grilled ciabatta bread brushed with olive oil. The rest of us enjoyed a Mushroom and Three Cheese Strata, croissants and Tarte Tatin and about 6 liters of mimosas. That’s right! We drunk ourselves metric!

Now, I must retire to the couch to watch more Boardwalk Empire Season 2 on demand. Roscoe rode in his second race in Central Park this morning and I’ve been up since 4 am. Need pizza and sleep. Bleh.



Roscoe Goes to the Races: Cycling in Central Park

7 Mar
Central Park Spring Race Series Start Line

Central Park Spring Race Series Start Line 6:30am

Dear Yolo,

I’m so happy you’re back! I would like to request more Argentina pictures and stories! As you can see, it’s been getting a little weird here in your absence. My parents were here for a few days visiting. We did a LOT of eating… ugh.

On Sunday morning, I woke up at 4:30am to watch Roscoe compete in his first cycling race of the season (and first race ever). I took a cab from Brooklyn from the loudest mouth breather ever. It was Darth Vader, urgent respiratory issue kinda bad. I’ve been having a lot of cab driver problems lately. Anyway, Roscoe rode in the first Central Park Spring Series Race of the year. He’s still learning the strategy, but he is as strong as 10 Morgan Freemans so I have no doubt he’ll be winning races left and right soon. There was a huge crash right behind him that landed several people in the hospital so I’m . Anyway, I love watching cycling races and follow the Tour de France every year so it was super cool to watch a race where you know one of the racers. He’s doing a race called Battenkill in upstate New York soon. The rider who crosses the finish line with the most bats wins. That’s how it SHOULD work anyway.

Central Park Spring Race Series CyclingCentral Park Spring Race Series CyclingCentral Park Spring Race Series Cycling

Cycling DogsCentral Park Spring Race Series Cycling Finish Line

Bonsai Tree Houses

21 Feb Bonsai Tree House

Bonsai Tree House

Bonsai Tree HouseBonsai Tree House

Dear Yolo,

Terry Gilliam meets Japanese precision and eats one of the cakes from Alice in Wonderland small… Check out this artist Takanori Aiba I found perusing Colossal. I have always wanted to live in a tree house and now I have finally found my dream real estate in miniature. I already have two cats Tiny Maroon could ride– one for everyday and then one for special occasions. Bonkers kind of looks like a cat Aslan. Anyway, about the dude who made this stuff:

For nearly a decade since the late 1970s Aiba worked as a maze illustrator for Japanese fashion magazine POPYE. The following decade he worked as an architect and finally in 2003 decided to merge the two crafts—the design of physical space and the drawing of labyrinths—into these incredibly detailed tiny worlds. Using craft paper, plastic, plaster, acrylic resin, paint and other materials Aiba constructs sprawling miniature communities that wrap around bonsai trees, lighthouses, and amongst the cliffs of nearly vertical islands.

Click here to see more of his work.

Thought you would enjoy it.

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Bonsai Tree House

Subway Stalker

16 Feb

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Dear Yolo,

 So here are a few images I’ve taken of people on the subway, a little photo project of mine. None of the subjects know that I’m taking their picture. Creepy? Perhaps. There is just something very beautiful about these stolen moments of public solitude when people are quiet and alone, on their way to someplace else and their thoughts and attention are far away or maybe deep within. I adore something about all of the subjects I photograph. More to come. Enjoy.

French Sea Turtles and Pics from the Week

10 Feb

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Dear Yolo,

 Are you excited about your trip? When do you leave? You best take a buttload of photos! I wanna see what Argentina looks like.
I loved Kevin the Giant Cat. He is beautiful. I wish my cats were bigger. The biggest cat I ever saw was in France when I was living with my Aunt Nath. It belonged to some friends of hers who lived on a farm in some mountains near Toulouse. This thing was as big as a beagle, I swear. I’m pretty sure I wrote you about it. I’ll bet it’s still alive and lives for one hundred years. Maybe we should start calling giant cats “French Sea Turtles”.
Moving on, here are some things that have been going on this week:
1)  It has become clear to me that anyone named “Nina” is totally awesome.
2)  I found a pigeon wing on the street. If I had more time, I would have picked it up and then wandered around asking people “have you seen my pigeon?”
3) Sat next to thug looking dude on the train who solved his rubics cube about 5 times during the few minutes I was sitting next to him. His best time is 20 seconds, though the world record is 7 seconds. I wish I had taken a video of him. It was pretty awesome.
4) Shot some video for a jewelry company website. The hosts were stylists or stylish quasi-celebs– Deborah Norville, Phillip Bloche and this chick Kelley Dooley who has a line of sassy sportswear (rhinestones and some bedazzling are involved) called BodyRock. They were all super nice people– Deborah Norville is one of the most genuine and kind people you could ever meet– I adore her! And Kelley even gave me one of her sportsbras which is actually the best I’ve ever worn. I may have to give up my slobby t-shirt at the gym habit.
5) Oh, and in other news, I am having a major wedding planning crisis, but I’ll save that for another time.
I am trying to take better pictures, but anyway, here are a few snaps.
I miss you and I hope you have safe travels lady! Big hugs and kisses!
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