Greetings to my international readers!

I just wanted to take a moment to give a shout out to my international readers!

Okay, so really I'm just saying a hello to my dear friend Lollion, who's currently "on the town" in either Tokyo or Hong Kong where she's traveling. Though if you are reading this from anywhere outside of the United States, thanks for visiting, and do tell all your friends about me! I love foreigners!

Lollion has been ordered to return to New York with a complete wardrobe makeover inspired by Harajuku street fashions. Something like this:



You may be familiar with them from the entire episode devoted to these wacky Japanese styles on the last season of America's Next Top Model. I caught up with both the fierceness and Harajuku a few weeks back when I got sucked into a Top Model marathon on VH1 that had me in its grips for 9 consecutive hours. Yes, that's right, 9 consecutive hours. Given my weakness for the slothful indulgence of reality programming seriality, it's all I can do to try to get out as much as possible.

There are plenty of websites devoted to recaps and reviews of television shows, but there's only one website devoted to me. So far, anyway...I'm hoping my appreciation for Japanese youth culture will inspire someone over there in the land of the rising sun to develop a keen obsession with yours truly and start up a fan site or two! Be on the look out, I'm sure it's only a matter of time!

Soul Searching at the Sex Shop

Last Wednesday night, I had the...uh...pleasure of of joining my friend Lauren shopping the sex shops along West 4th in the West Village. You see, she had a gay bachelor party to go to up in Boston (Massachusetts 'mos, they can't help themselves!), so being that she's currently living down here in New York, she had to be particularly tawdry. We do have reputations, I'll have you know.

Now, going into sex shops while single and presently prospectless can be a little strange. It's sort of like stepping foot into a world of possibility that you have absolutely no use for at the moment. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against accoutrement edible or otherwise, it's just not happening for me lately, so when faced with huge dildos, vibrators both vaginal and anal, leather whips, handcuffs, desensitizing spray, flavored lubes, edible jelly cock rings, and penis pops it can all be a little daunting. Oh, and don't give me the whole self-love bit, I'm not about to go lather up with hot body oils and "treat myself" any time soon! Recent inexperience doesn't mean you have to leave your sense of humor at home, however, so I insisted that Lauren get a banana flavored condom to throw in with her goodie bag.



After swimming through a sea of smut, I needed a drink, so it was time to go to my favorite bar in the West Village, Cubbyhole! Cubbyhole, if you'll remember, is a mostly lesbian bar. Could my penchant for lesbian bars be what is keeping me from experiencing the many joys (or pains, for that matter) that sex shops can bring you? I'll have to get back to you on that one.

A Sunday at the Armory Show

The weekend of the Armory Show, generally the second week of March, acts as the kick-off to the spring Arts season in New York. Billed as the "International Fair of New Art," it's essentially a trade show for the Art world. Over 150 commercial galleries, mostly from New York, but with representation from numerous locations around the world, present work by the artists they represent in an effort to sell off the stuff they have sitting around ready to collect dust. With that in mind, you can pretty much assume that it's a pretty mixed bag. The fairly obvious fact that most of the best work by any particular artists that are on the market will probably have already been sold makes it pretty certain that you're probably not going to be taking any prom queens home this year.

This year I went with coworker friends Cindy, and Kenric, as well as Kenric's wife Kathryn.

The fair is set up is up in Piers 90 and 92 on the Hudson River, and draws a large crowd of people mostly likely better looking than your average trade show.

What seems to be popular on the market this year? Well, judging by the number of galleries presenting works by the same artist, I counted at least 4 different galleries showing works by Thomas Struth, Alex Katz, and Julian Opie, I'd say they're pretty hot these days. Large format photography was everywhere to the point of ubiquity, and taste definitely leaned towards style over substance. Honestly, who finds Alex Katz relevant anymore? Whenever I go to one of his shows, I forget it by the time I'm out the door. I suppose his fairly broad color palette means that rich art patrons will find just the right Katz to match the new rug they bought last month, but what else does he offer to artistic discourse.

One thing my going up to Montreal forced me to miss was the array of parties that galleries throw during Armory Show weekend. I certainly regret missing all that free wine that was waiting for me as I spied on the art world brethren mingling and flirting in the vain hope that tonight's one night stand will be tomorrow's art star. What, don't tell me you thought going high brow exempts these people from being the starfuckers they dream nightly of being. Next year, my friends, next year.

La Belle Province (Part Two)

Friday, March 11th, was our second day in Montreal. With the whole day free to do as we pleased, I once again put on my tour guide hat at took my brother around to few of my favorite places in Montreal.

Montreal is pretty fantastic food city, with many a chef who just makes more of an effort than they do elsewhere. I always mean to try out different places when I go there, though there is one personal favorite I just can't pass up the opportunity to revisit, Santropol on the corner of Duluth and Saint-Urbain. Their main fare is gourment sandwiches made with a fluffy brown bread that they get fresh daily from a bakery just down the block (if you know which one, feel free to post it in the comments page, I can't remember its name at the moment). They also have some fairly good warm food choices like soup, chili and veggie pies (the menu leans vegetarian, though they do serve meat), but I often neglect pretty much everything on the menu other for the Killer Tomato. Honestly, it's every bit as good as when I first took a bite out of one for the first time in 1997. If heaven is a simple mix of tomatoes, cream cheese, lettuce, sun-dried tomatoes, and some spices, then I can say I've been...and it is sublime!

Blissfully sated by my meal, the next stop was Old Montreal and the Old Port. Now, I've been sticking to an only-in-summer rule for my Montreal visits for the past few years, as it's a beautiful city then, and there's always stuff going on. They jam their summers full of festivals and out-door events because their winters are so damn cold and so damn long. Old Montreal retains a lot of architecture dating back to the 18th century, giving it an old world sort of charm. In winter, however, you're not really sure how anyone managed to survive. Brother Dan was sort of astounded that people actually ever chose to settle in such a cold place, and my argument about the lucrative fur trade business that was a boon for the area in its origins didn't really sound all that convincing as I made it. The streets were empty, the St Lawrence was filled with large chunks of ice moving their way out to sea, and it's a paltry consolation prize for what Montreal can be in summer. May though September is the time to go, trust me on this one...



Seeking refuge from the cold, we made our way to the Musee d'art contemporain de Montreal (yes I know I'm forgetting the accent marks, mais j'ecrit avec un clavier anglais mes amis!) for the William Kentridge exhibit. Kentridge is a South African artist who does mainly these great animated films made up from his own charcoal drawings. The process seems slow and laborious, but the result is a signature style that's really intriguing. I had seen one of his films before, Monument, without knowing much about it, so it was great to delve a little deeper and see what he's all about.

Afterwards, we grabbed take-out, rested a bit, and prepared for a film screening that was part of the International Festival of Films on Art (FIFA). The film is definitely a controversial one, Casuistry: The Art of Killing A Cat.



Let's take a look at what the program's description was, and you'll see why I went to the screening with reservations:

"Jesse Power, Anthony Reyan Wennekers et Matthew Kaczorowski are the infamous Toronto cat killers whose torture of an innocent feline garnered international headlines. Vilified by the media and animal-rights activists, they tell their side of this macabre story for the first time. One Friday night in May 2001, Jesse Power, an artist and former vegetarian, enlisted two friends to help him kill a cat. The intention was to make a video that protested our unthinking consumption of factory-bred and slaughtered animals by killing, cooking and eating a cherished domestic pet, the cat. High on a dissociative hallucinogenic drug known to induce violent behaviour, the ill-prepared trio made a torturous ordeal out of the cat's killing while every moment was being caught on videotape. Alerted by an outraged roommate, the police found the skinned and decapitated cat in the upstairs beer fridge. Jesse Power and Anthony Wennekers pleaded guilty to animal cruelty and mischief charges. The third perpetrator fled and was apprehended two years later in Vancouver. This unsettling documentary tells the story of an "art" project gone terribly awry. Explanations from the trio and excerpts from Power's previous videos are combined with observations from artists, curators, police investigators, lawyers, journalists and activists."

Let me say first of all, that I was grateful that they were not able to show any of the actual videtaped footage. What they do have is the court transcript, minute by minute, about what they did do the cat, which is just a disturbing in its own way. It's not a perfect documentary, and it's definitely a rough watch that a lot of people wouldn't be comfortable with, a few people walked out within the first few minutes at the screening I went to. However, it does raise a lot of issues that provide for pretty lively debate and discussion, more so than a lot of things out there. It will drive you to drink however, so be prepared. Incidentally, if you're not sure what casuistry means, the relevance is that it generally comes right before cat in the dictionary, and when you look it up, you'll understand, curious? Check it out!

We ended our last night in Montreal at Le Cheval Blanc on Ontario Street with my dear, old friend Annelies (who was also a partner in masochism at the screening), and new friend Liz (who did a fantastic job organizing the show for Rooftop Films up there!!!). Le Cheval Blanc is another spot that brews its own beer and does a nice job of it.

Well, okay so we didn't exactly END the night there, as we had to tromp around the Plateau trying to find our car after it had been towed pour deneigement (snow plowing), but thankfully it was found (they just move it to another street that's already been plowed nearby and give you a ticket) and we were on our way back to New York on Saturday afternoon.

La Belle Province (Part One)

Let me start by saying I'm sorry it's been a while since I last posted. Went up to Canada for a few days and have only now thawed out enough to operate a keyboard. I assure you I would not have kept you waiting any longer than I absolutely had to...so let's get to talking Montreal!



So I drove up Wednesday night with my brother Dan, as he was scheduled to do a touring film program for the film festival he runs here in NY called Rooftop Films. The drive up was not too eventful, though we did spend about 4 consecutive hours listening to a playlist of popular 80s songs. Before you start raising you eyebrow, let me tell you that it was NOT nostalgia...I hate nostalgia, and I'll have you know that I actually like the songs for their artistict merit. Or something.

Anyway, got in late, so only had time to grab a few drinks at Bily Kun before retiring to bed. The apartment where we were staying (which belongs to an away film producer who just happens to have a gorgeous three bedroom apartment for whenever he's in town to do a film) was right in the ever popular Plateau neighborhood right downtown! Bily Kun is a really chill, but popular bar which you'd remember as the bar with stuffed ostrich heads along the wall as their decore if you were ever to go. It was almost completely packed on a mid-Winter Wednesday night, making it good place to scope out the Montreal scene.

The next day we sort of just walked around as much as we could considering how bloody cold it was. We're talking like -20 with windy chill here, people...not funny. As Dan had never been to Montreal, we just walked the main strips, Saint Denis, Saint Laurent, Saint Catherine...yeah, it's a Catholic kind of province.

The evening was spent at the S.A.T. (Societe des arts technologiques) where the screening was being held. As soon as I stepped foot in the place (had never been before), I couldn't help but see it as a totally representative Montreal venue. They had big screens with squiggly digital art, a DJ table along the side, thick red curtains, and little red candles at every table. Kind of seems sort of loungey swank at first glance. Up close though, you notice the curtains are dirty, and the candles are unmistakably the same ones you can purchase at any Dollarama in the city. Yes, the same candles that college students use to try to get each other in the mood - horrible flashback to the night when a girl tried to seduce me in my first week of college with those same cheap candles and a Spiritualized cd!!! - line the tables of many major bars and lounges of Montreal's night life.

The screening went well, and we ended the first night in Montreal at Resrvoir, on Duluth and Saint Laurent. It's brews its own beers, which are quite good actually, and also has great brunches on the weekends. Check it out if you're there.

Hooray for Bollywood!

So it's not every evening that you can spend with a woman called the "Indian Jane Fonda" and voted one of the "Top 50 Coolest Desis of 2004," so I had to test out a fitness class at my gym called Bollywood Dance.

How did I get myself into this one, you ask? Well, a few weeks ago I discovered that my good friend Domini had joined my gym, and that she really wanted to try out this class. Always up for something new, we tried to make it to this class for a few weeks running, much to no avail. Last night, however, we had no excuses, and so I got my first lesson in the art of seduction as they do it in Bollywood!

The teacher is Sarina Jain, inventor of Masala Bhangra fitness, which incorporates Indian dance and music into the American fitness scene. Yeah, we're talking more '80s Jane Fonda than say, her '70s Vietnam war protester incarnation, or her '90s wife of Ted Turner period. But anyway...the class I took was basically a not quite intro to Bollywood dancing. Not quite, because if you've never done it before, you may find yourself a little frustrated. Being the (very) white Western male that I am...well...I wasn't exactly a pro.

Domini, the resident Desi, was of course quite skilled in the dances, which occasionally made me feel worse, but also helped when I completely forgot what the next move. It's so hard to figure out when to "go shy" and when to "open up," you know.

Will I try it again? Sure, why not? It's actually a really good work out. If you want to find me, just look for the really sweaty white guy who sneers whenever she says things like "grab your skirt." More information? Check here.

Sunday night comedy

Forsaking my weekly Day of Rest rituals (barely leaving my bed, giving myself over to the voices calling to me from my television set, etc.), I pumped myself full of coffee and met with my friend Lisa to go to the Assscat show at the Upright Citizen's Brigade Theater in Chelsea. Lisa occasionally does tech work for these improv stars, so she got us in despite a packed house of New Yorkers hooked on their comedic smack.

The Sunday show is quite popular as it features "celebrities." In this case, a couple of Saturday Night Live members (Amy Poehler and Seth Myers when I went) and some of the regulars on VH1's Best Week Ever (the two balding guys, whose names I'd have for you if I wasn't too lazy to go look it up) represented the famous class. Furthering the Viacom trend, Gideon Yago from MTV News did the monologues that the comedians then riffed on.

All in all, a really great time! If you have a chance to check it out, I would definitely say it's worth the trip. If however, you're too immersed in your love of shows like Extreme Makeover Home Addition, I understand that you, well...sort of need to get a life and stuff. If you're interested in checking out some improv and/or sketch comedy, look no further.

So Much Fun I Split My Pants!

Saturday night, as any good Quebecois drag queen will tell you, is the best night to drink and to dance, so that's what I did. Met up with the crew of drunk and obnoxious friends Zander, Jess, Domini, Emily, Joe, and Lauren, where pretense is thrown to the wind, and these people are lucky whenever they don't get thrown out. This particular night we went to Park, a HUGE, 2 floored restaurant/bar/club on 10th Avenue in Chelsea.

Despite the fact that it was really crowded, and nobody else was dancing, we were not stopped from turning our corner of the place into a Soul Train of sorts. Things got a little out of hand for yours truly, when deciding to straddle Jess. Mid lap dance, I heard and felt the unmistakeable sensation of having your pants split wide open at the crotch.



There you have it! Documentation of the exact moment when my pants were splitting, people!

I spent the rest of the evening sheepishly sitting down and walking awkwardly whenever it came time to move. Anybody know of a good place to get a new pair of pants?

What's "happening?"

Friday night saw me having a yummy Indian dinner with law school friend, Molly, in from out of town. We ate on the (in)famous Indian restaurant stretch running along 6th Street from 1st to 2nd Avenue.

After eating what seemed like half our body's weight in subcontinental cuisine, we ventured down to the Lower East Side to Luna Lounge, picking up Gabby along the way, where a friend was going to be dancing for a sort of indie, hippie, psychedelic band called Physical Light Show. Now, if you know me or have been reading this blog, you might be thinking this description is ranking pretty high on the NMCOT (Not My Cup of Tea) Scale, and you'd be right.

So the band consists of four dudes, and their shows have something like 8 or 10 dancers, in costumes, in front of the stage doing experimental/hippie dance moves with the lights out and warying glow-in-the dark body paint and assorted clothing items. The performance is kind of more of a "happening," in that 1960s sort of way, than just your average set. Gabby was curious to see the whole thing as she thought it sounded like a recipe for a laugh riot. Unfortunately, after only a couple of songs in I had to turn to her and report dejectedly "it's not even funny."

But hey, the dancers and musicians seemed to enjoy themselves, and with the performance space in a back room, I was free to go back to the front bar and down a couple of pints. Works for me!