So I took a little trip up to New York City with my homie Milkhand just after New Years. Haven't been to the spot since I was 10 years old. Milks had never set foot in the place. We started to get shit together maybe a week before. Booked a tight little spot on East 39th. It had a taco bar with a lounge in the downstairs. And that was the extent of our planning. The rest was the art of fuckin winging it. They tell you people are so rude and uptight in the city. Well, not if you just talk. Just learn to talk to people and don't fuckin suck. This was one for the goddamn archives. Bottle of Bacardi a night.
So the one touristy thing we did was Top of the Rock. Of course we had to wait, so we got pretzel dogs from Auntie Anne's before as one was located conveniently on the bottom floor of the place. We ate them outside tweaking in fuckin 20 degree air on a bench watching tour groups go by. I'd say they were fairly representative of the whole experience. They look dank as fuck on the outside, then you bite in and - what the fuck did you just pay money for? This shit is some guts wrapped in loose tarp wrapped in cardboard. TOP OF THE FUCKIN ROCKKKKK
Yes, tattoos occurred in the fucking pod room. Balls to the fuckin wall, we freehanded some shit and rolled out after. One night we ended up swigging endless rum in a hotel room in a Mariott and then trying to roll to some deserted bar only to get rerouted to a tight spot called Pianos by our Ukrainian cab driver. We did not exactly become friends with the owner there after Milks was spotted slapping stickers all over the walls and I was seated demanding three shots of their most expensive rum. But we did became boys with the bartender in the taco bar in our hotel and got free drinks on deck while we tried to mack on the only girls present after stumbling into a gay birthday party. Milks got his cigs stolen by a Latino transvestite one night. We rode a subway car with throwup all over the floor and ate at this spot around the corner called Giuseppi's almost every day. Our room came with a safe and we kept if full of cameras and every substance you could possibly need, and what we didn't have, we found (for free!). The bummer was that there were no ice machines so it was warm rum and cokes on deck.
The Greyhound is a long ass run and it only stops at Royal Farms I fuckin swear but their chicken is especially good at 2am. They must bring it out fresh for the late night crowd. Don't ask a potentail Criminal Minds onsub for directions. We went to the Supreme store, and I gotta say, I like Supreme but it was a bit of a fuckin wack scene. We tweaked out and smoked black American Spirits on random street corners. One night we ended up at this spot called Electric Bowery and rolled up saying "Is there a cover charge?" and the dude said "Yup" and we said "Fuck that" and started dipping and then he was like "Nah, you guys are good." So there we were and talk about a hype fuckin scene. The dancefloor was swayin in the lowlight and the drinks were $9 a pop but the flask in my back pocket was full and so we got reckless as hell. Danced the god damn night away. Got a girl in modeling to agree to a lil shoot for Avast Co and never even hit her up. I fuckin love that city man.
One night we found ourselves in McDonald's somewhere gettin towards 5am. The motherfuckers were out of burgers. At McDonald's. How the fuck can you just run out of burgers? Well, besides the point, we got chicken on deck and ended up having a heated discussion on life at the table second to last towards the window. I couldn't finish my chicken nuggets after a bit, and so the last table was occupied by two motherfuckers nodding the fuck off on some heroin. I seent it. Dude had a fucked up tear tat on his face. Like as in diy as mentioned above, but no dice on the results. It's all good, didn't even question it at the time, just said "What's up dude, you want the rest of my chicken nuggets?" Dude wakes up from nodding off on the wall drooling all over his shit and just nods vigorously. Not a word. Ate those god damn nuggets like manna from heaven. I slept with an extra chicken sandwich in my pocket that night, pants on, tv turned to why planes crash. Fuckin right.
So yeah, that next picture down there, one of the last for this tale, is the roof of the spot we were posted at. Phenomanal view. Tight ass scene. That was the first day and the second day the sun was high and bright and the sky was blue as it can get, and clean, with the cold wind blowing raw and refreshing. I woke up to that as Milks was out on a coffee and brief solo reflection journey, so naturally I grabbed my cigs and journal and made my way to the roof. You know, you're in a brand new city, alone, just taking it in, free. You don't have anyone there telling you what to do or where to go or what to think. It's just you, yourself, and whatever your senses tell you. There are no obligations. So yeah, after that is a piece of something I wrote sitting in the sunlit lounge room just inside that rooftop scene.
I fuckin love that city. These have been some of the stories, and some will stay untold for now, awaiting the right place and time. The city is mad.
Be on the lookout for our lil collab zine project that's in the works right now. Gonna be hype. ~And we doin ittttttt