the gossip

you know you love me.
x o x o

taking up doorways with their smoking ways

g and i hit chelsea

a testament to my new local

that is, that i don't remember taking this, or the 17 others just like it

j, tache and peaches

boning up for monday

the best New York mag cover ever

what i missed in tokyo

JOLENE, butchered

thank god, eh, tots?

the hilarity of it all

keeping it real. another saturday night

yay for transatlantic post

i love that i still get Berlinale bags despite having left europe.
danke, darling

Under Pain of Death

`If a man knows this is his last meal, can he really swallow?'

i really did try to stomach this exhibit, but couldn't quite make it. despite g's valiant attempts at holing my hand through the horror, i had to walk out. still, well worth seeing, if your constitution is any stronger than mine.

Austrian Cultural Forum
11 E 52nd St
Through May 10.

speaking of braccini

the weirdness that arises when taking the rents to The Trout

caos calma

anyone have questions for Nanni Moretti? a certain someone has an interview with him this week and is in dire need of something to say. comments/questions welcome.

gk1, the event, as promised

no one has much recollection of the actual event, just a lot of cherries, a lot of bearded men, a few gingers scattered about, much dancing up on buki, and a big ole hootenanny.
*photos courtesy of the ehrlich family cameras

slowly rolling in

the day after. the faulty coat rack. enough said.

(editor's note: sent by text by those intrepid enough to check out the aftermath. aptly entitled `che disastro')

next up: gk1, the event

awaiting file transfers after several forgotten (and misplaced) cameras.

coming up: the drama. the laughter. the cherries. the faulty coat rack. the scandals. the publicists. the beards. the trail of heartsick men that a certain tot left in his wake.

all in all, a resounding success.

everybody's favourite crazy asian ladies

the aftermath

the muppet somehow acquires two stim pads while simultaneously losing mismatched earplugs.
still, given how black-out drunk the trip was, no harm done

striking a pose way too late in the game

something scandalous this way comes

not naming any names

``is that a tattoo??''
``you can't blog this, my mother knows that shirt of mine''

someone else we know had a rather traumatic spill off a snowboard

stem in the dip!

`what are we, freshmen in college?'

did she *really* say ``busty''?