For Display Purposes Only

This is classic.

Friday night, I DJ'ed out in Philadelphia at Pure. It was a great time and the crowd was excellent. I played well, and I was pretty happy with my performance. Earlier in the night, we had noticed a large, 2-3 foot tall bottle of Vox Vodka in the hallway outside the DJ booth. At the end of the night, I jokingly asked Tre, the clubs' manager, if it was a gift for me. She nonchalantly told me to just take it. I did my whole "what?! no way! you're kidding me!!", to which she just told me that I could have it.

What to do with such an amazing gift. A three foot tall elliptical glass structure filled with a five time distilled expensive vodka. So many possibilities. So many drinks. I started planning a party in my head for the mere idea that the bottle could be the centerpiece for which the entire party would revolve around. A small shred of doubt told me that maybe this was too good to be true. Maybe there was no vodka in the bottle, but another clear liquid. Water? Rubbing alcohol? Nah- it HAD to be vodka.

Back at the hotel, we wasted no time opening up our treasure, like it was Christmas morning. Funny, it didn't smell a lot like vodka. In fact, it sort of smelled like Easter Egg dye. But no, it absolutely couldn't be anything other than 80 proof Vox vodka.

Then Jay decided to try some.

It was not vodka.

Luckily for Jay, he did not actually swallow any of it, as a closer inspection of the bottle revealed a rather large disclaimer that read: "THIS BOTTLE IS FOR DISPLAY PURPOSES ONLY. LIQUID CONTENTS NOT FOR CONSUMPTION".

Frank offered the idea that the liquid probably was, in fact, a sort of liquid blacklight that glows in the dark if put on display at a bar in a nightclub.

And that, my friends, is how smart we are.

Death Wish

What is up with REALLY fat people who smoke? I'm absolutely fascinated by a morbidly obese person, guy or girl, weighing a good 200-250 lbs and smoking a cigarette.

I mean, who am I to judge...But like, you must really have a serious death wish.

Just one of those things I notice walking down the street during the day. At least I'm entertaining myself.

Welcome To The World

Welcome to the world, Gabriella Padilla!



















How cute is she?

Ah That's What My Head Hurts

I thought I was getting a headache from having these big headphones on my head all day with music making my eardrums into little tiny trampolines- but it turns out it was just the thick top part of the headphone mashing into my head and pulling at my hair (kind of like hat-head for DJ's).

Either way- made my head hurt. It's 1:30 in the morning, and I'm far from tired. I've been tinkering with my Myspace page and listening to the new demo I made (not crazy about it- ho hum).

I caught some of my KTU show tonight while I was watching TV on the couch. This is going to be my last week doing Sunday nights as a weekly show- after a good three and a half year run, I will be sharing the space starting next week with fellow KTU Mixmaster Tommy Nappi- whose Saturday night show fell victim to the mighty Clear Channel axe. So for that, I'm more than happy to share the space- welcome aboard Tommy! So starting next week, Tommy and I will be alterating the 11 o'clock time slot.

What else what else. I made lasagna for the first time yesterday, and it came out great. I wound up feeding Jay, Chris, Ryan, Philip and baby Nicky- glad I made just enough considering I thought it would be dinner for two people.

Mom and Dad are coming into SI tomorrow, so I'll probably spend a good part of the afternoon with them, and dodging any potential calls from jerkoff boss.

Interview Tuesday. Wish me luck.

Friday Afternoon

And I want to go home. Badly.

In unrelated news, congratulations BJ and Christie on your new apartment.

Next Tuesday will determine how soon I can get the fuck away from this freak show excuse of a "company". Speaking of freak shows, here comes JFC (abbreviated due to language content). Please inquire if you want to know what it stands for.

Must get out of here. Now.

Untitled

I guess I really couldn't let this day go by without writing something.

Yeah, so it's September 11th. Nine-eleven, nine-eleven, nine-fucking-eleven. It never goes away, does it? Every morning, I look out the window of the express bus and there it is. Tourists stop and take pictures, inexplicably smiling against the sixteen acre void. I see the planes hitting the towers. Every day. Even if I'm on the opposite side of the bus, it's there. Even if I have my eyes closed, you know its there because the sun shines brighter on the bus where there's no buildings to shadow it. Sometimes I look and envision it the way it was before. Either way, it's there. In the afternoons, on the ferry, I look out at the skyline, think about how great New York City is, but also think about the skyline shrouded in the huge cloud of smoke. I can't separate one from the other. The train of thought is forever tainted.

Rather than rehashing every detail of every minute of that morning (I was wearing a gray Structure tee with jean shorts, I ate a bite of a Honey Nut Cheerios milk and cereal bar, but couldn't keep it down, etc... After five years, it's almost redundant. I don't need to write it down, because it's not like I'm going to forget.

I will say this though.

On Sunday, September 9, 2001, I went to Six Flags with some of my friends from school. The semester had just started, I was living in a fantastic dorm, blessed with a great selection of classes and a pretty healthy bank account. I was actually looking forward to the upcoming semester. The Six Flags trip was a last minute thing, one of those random trips that can only happen when you're 20 years old, where life is measured in semesters before graduation. The day could not have been better. In fact, that day was a perfect example of the simple things in life that make me smile. My friends, beautiful weather, the wind on my face on that first steep drop on Nitro. On the dark ride home up the Jersey Turnpike we talked in ideological terms about life and what the future would hold. Nothing could hurt me. Nothing could stop me. Nothing could cloud my perception of the perfect world I lived in. Hell, I was going to rule the world.

September the Eleventh, if anything, was an extreme lesson in humility and vulnerability. What hurt me more than anything, was being forced upon the crashing conclusion that the world could not always be what I made it out to be or wished it to be.

And while five years later I'm still very affected by the events of that day, I haven't forgotten the person I was on September 9th. And trust me, I will still rule the world.

Reason #583983 Why September Just Doesn't Do It For Me

Allergies. Ragweed Allergies. They suck.



More to come tomorrow.

I Hate Work

So I've come to the conclusion that I really need to get a new job. I am sitting here with not a clue in the world what my purpose is in this place or how I can possibly utilize any of my skills or talents here. So what is it that keeps me here? The simple fact that my lack of real work here and my 4-day work week arrangement makes it comfortable for me to focus on my music and DJ'ing, something I wouldn't be able to do in a lot of other places.

All I want is to make a lot of money, be successful and be happy in what I do. It's such a catch-22 working here, because even though this place is rotting my brain, it allows me to pursue the music thing. Obviously, the main objective is that someday "the music thing" will be what makes me successful, but that's a ways off right now.

Until then, I sit here and try to stay busy and focused and positive. It's just that on days like this, sometimes it's difficult.

I am NOBODYS secretary.