So about 2 months ago, Nicole and I went to NY...(pt II)

This is the cover of my forthcoming Death Row Records release "King Time." It drops next month, bitch.

The Empire State Building...which I doubt I will ever go to top of again due to "King Kong"

This was at a wine bar on the edge of Rockerfeller Center.

This was the day after the anniversary of his death.

Nicole took all these photos which would explain why she's not in them

A little Norman Rockwell moment here. I took a similar pic before my camera was stolen but Rite-Aid lost the last roll I shot.

Tree

This is the last photo ever taken of that camera in my hands. THIEVES!

Inside Central Park, looking out

Yyyyyyyyyyyyeah...

Notice the custom-made red Swingline stapler atop the set. A symbol of quiet rebellion.

I've had a little TV in my office for a while now, but due to the shit that's on TV during the day, I haven't gotten much use out of it. Until now.

My buddy Scott brought in an extra DVD player he had. The Revolution WILL be televised!

Today I had "Office Space" playing whilst I worked on the equivolent of my TPS reports. Talk about art immitating life and vice-versa. It was like holding up a hand mirror in front of another larger one, it just went on into infinity. Good times.

Thursday.

Today is the first day I am starting to feel a bit better. Thus, I have no desire to spend my first day of non-total-misery working. Let's go get a damn beer for crying out loud.

Sat in the steam room this morning. I felt like a 300-lb. mob boss. All I needed was a cigar and the power to order someone to be whacked.

All Hail The Champ!

Rufus took home the cup at the Westminster Dog Show

So about 2 months ago, Nicole and I went to NY...(Pt I)

I can't say for sure, but I'm willing to guess that it's "Piano Man"

Air Violin? When you can rap like Ken Chu, you can play whatever you want.

I play a MEAN Air Clarinet

Rockin with my fellas

My first experience with a private karoake room...They dominate.

(Very) Grand Central Station at night

Practicing for Turino

Wolman Rink in Central Park

Sweet (Baby James) Dreams

Last night I had a dream that I got to see James Taylor play in a very small venue much like my favorite place in the world, Largo. After the show, I got to sit down and rap with Mr. Taylor. He was wearing a throwback Angels hat signed by former Angel great Johnny Ray and was also wearing some sort of Angels bracelet thingy. We talked about the team and how he doesn't like the inclusion of Los Angeles in their name. After discussing this for a few minutes, he had to go. At this point, I told him how many shows I had been to and how much his music meant to me. Then I gave him a hug. There wasn't time for a photo which should come as no surprise following the hug.

Alright Already

Is anyone else sick of all the "Brokeback Mountain" jokes?

I'm dying.

And they're trying to kill me.

Ug.

Feeling like this guy today


Sickness has set up shop in my throat and is using at as the headquarters for its coup against my immune system. With Zicam, multi-vitamins, and tea as my weapons of choice, I have launched a full scale attack in my defense. As our President would say, these germs are evil. They stand in the way of freedom. Freedom will always win.

These germ terrorists have launched a multi-pronged attack, not only on me, but on mine lover as well. She has been hit even worse than I. She was infected first so she has the sympathy vote all but won. We will unite our efforts and snuff out these cowardly germs who fight from the shadows. Whatever dark shadow they wish to fight from will soon be illuminated by the light of freedom and they will be able to hide no more.

! Viva Echinacea!

The good news is that, in my efforts to defend, I have found a fantastically delicious alternative to coffee, the tea lattes offered by The Coffee Bean and (as I've just discovered) Tea Leaf. This morning I had a tropical passion latte and let me tell you....delectable. And the bluebery pomegranite? Unbelievable! MMMmmmmMmmm. Of course, if you are a woman, I am sure I am not telling you anything you don't already know.

No Way!

Did you know that "A Boy Named Sue" was written by one Shel Silverstein of "A Light in the Attic" and "Where the Sidewalk Ends" fame? I shit you not, it is a fact.

There ain't nothing in this world better than...

--The sound of a fresh can of tennis balls being opened.

--The extra part of the milkshake they give you in the mixing tin.

--Survivor's "Eye of the Tiger." With this song on a continuous loop, I believe I could run for 2 days straight.

--Pitchers and Catchers reporting to Spring Training...This happens next week!

--Dog breath/kisses.

--Catching one of those movies on cable that you can never tune away from...For me, Goodwill Hunting, Turner & Hooch (yes), Crimson Tide, A Few Good Men, The Untouchable....and some others that haven't been on cable for a while.

Super Bullshit!

Steelers win, "21-10."

The use of quotation marks is quite intentional. I am a fan of neither team and had no bets riding on the outcome of the game. As a neutral party, the officiating in yesterday's Superbowl was simply atrocious. I have seen more impartial officiating in the WWE. Even a French figure skating judge could have called this thing better. If it weren't cloudy in Detroit, I would have sworn these jokers in stripes had been staring directly into the sun for two straight hours prior to kickoff.

Ah screw it, on to the pictures.

Shaun Alexander burping the baby

Some found a bakery box to be more engaging entertainment.

As long as there's beer, we're in the clear. Good times.

HAPPY GROUNDHOG DAY!

"Just put your little hand in mine..."

Here he is in all his glory, the world's pre-eminent weather forecasting groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil himself. The little fella said this morning that he definitely saw his shadow, which as we all know in Southern California, translates to six more weeks of brutal sub-70 degree temperatures. At least he's honest!

The Clothes Make the Man

I saw a coworker the other day and it occurred to me that he was evidence of a certain sub-species of man. He is a shining example of the Self-Imposed Uniform Wearers. These are the people that wear essentially the same outfit 365 days a year, regardless of season, time of day, or occasion. The guy I speak of wears work boots, shorts, a baggy t-shirt, and a visor. Every. Single. Day. Rain or shine. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Hell, I eat the same thing for lunch everyday so I guess I can relate kind of. Not criticizing, just observing. Look for the S.I.U.W.'s because they are living among us.

"Just when I thought I was out...they pull me back in."

Haven't had much to blog/complain about this week...UNTIL NOW!

I just took a stroll down to the studio Mail Center to purchase three stamps so that I might mail three bills. I walked in as I have done hundreds of times before and waited to get the attention of one the guys working behind the counter. Finally, I did.

"What do you need, man?"

"I just need to buy three stamps."

"Oh we don't sell stamps anymore...The Mill Store sells 'em."

So let me get this straight...The Mail Center no longer sells stamps. Sure, I mean, why would they, right? Why would a center that handles mail which requires postage sell postage stamps? Frankly, I think this is a true stroke of genius. Perhaps one day the federal government will get in sync with this forward thinking and stop selling stamps at their post offices. Get with the program! Stamps at a post office? Too predictable! Let's sell stamps at McDonald's and serve chicken McNuggets at the post office. Maybe put together some sort of a meal deal. "Upgrade to signature confirmation and get a free Filet-O-Fish sandwich."

What kind of a policy is this? Let's examine the steps one must now take in order to mail something at this studio now, shall we? First, one must walk down to the mail center if one wants to send anything larger than a standard envelope so as to get a price quote on the number of stamps one will need. Next, one must leave the mail center and walk across the lot a quarter mile to the Mill Store to buy the necessary alotment of stamps. Finally, one must retrace their steps and return to the Mail Center to actually drop the parcel off. This, of course, assumes the Mail Center has not gone through another major policy shift in the time you were gone and does still actually, um, mail things.

I don't know why I was so shocked by all of this seeing as how this is the same department that destroyed online shopping as we know it by holding in a punitive quarantine any packages received that they suspected were personal. They actually refused to deliver them. If you tried to order a 4 oz. paperback book and have it delivered here to the studio where you could sign for it, they would require that you walk down and get it yourself, which, I guess, isn't all that bad. It sure would be nice to be able to buy a fucking stamp once you get there though.