Why I Love the Internet - Fashion 1969

I really don't think I have to say anything about this... speaks for itself. Thank you, dear Internet, for your fabulous bounty.

Awesome Breakdance ? Moves

Looking for inspiration? Look no further. Thank you, Internet, for your gifts.

O'ND salutes the NBA

Fun Fact:

The Official Team of Otis N' Dwayne is the Los Angeles Lakers

Nostalgia

I was talking about Betty Davis which lead to watching Kim Carnes' "Betty Davis Eyes" - after which YouTube suggested I watch "I Come From the Land Down Under" by Men at Work. Both were awesome. What followed hit me hard in the middle of my nostalgia nerve. Nena's classic 99 Red Balloons holds a special place in my gut. When I started taking German in the sixth grade, I remember translating the words from the original German version into English. As I watched with Tosso, I was embarrassed to find myself crying. That is, until I looked over at Tosso and saw him filled with emotion as well. And by the way, Nena is so friggin hot in the video. Watch it!

Why I Love the Internet : Omar Souleyman

This is the most awesome shit. Amazing. I love everything about it. The sample of Centipede - or some other vintage Atari game - just takes it over the top. Try sitting still while you listen to this.

Snow Day!!!!

I live in Brooklyn, so when nature comes my way, I milk it as much as possible. I took a walk to Prospect Park where there was not only tons of sledding going on, but more snowmen per square foot than I have ever seen in my life, and some of the largest I have encountered, as well. People were building tunnels and forts. I am not sure who was having more fun, the kids or their parents. I went to my favorite secluded spot and was graced with the presence of many beautiful birds. It was a lovely day. I am now back home, nice and cozy, and getting ready for some hot noodle soup! Life is good.

Badass Brooklyn : Part II

I passed by this the other day. So simple. So obvious. So friggin funny!

it's always good to have options

Badass Brooklyn

Snowday!!! Thick wet snow everywhere. Tree limbs tired and sagging under the weight of it. Barely any cars. It was the perfect snowman snow. I took the first picture in Carroll Gardens and the second one is from Mike Spears. He takes great pictures. Check out his blogggg.

oh yea, baby - footsteps in the dark

Mmmmm! Mmmmm! So sexy for you. The music starts mellow, slow, with a groove divine... Nooo, too sexy. Like the person who uploaded this love masterpiece on to youtube said, "Does anyone have peanut butter? because this is the JAM!"

Swiss Magic: Part II

Here is a great little short about two alphorn blowers. It is quite charming. If you have never seen an alphorn or even if you have experienced their magic before, you should check this out.

5 songs to get your juices flowing for V day...

In no particular order, here are 5 songs to make party in pants or out of pants...

No one makes sexy time as sexy as Marvin Gaye. The title says it all: Let's Get in On.



One part Carly Simon, one part James Bond, two parts sexy. The Spy Who Loved Me is hot hot hot and here you can watch the opening credits filled with naked lady silhouettes and guns.



When's the last time you had a good, tongue filled make out session, hands all over the place? Can't remember? Well there is a good chance Mr. Al Green helped to guide you.



Now, even though he is prone to unbuttoning his shirts one button to many and TMI about his sex life with his wife, Sting remains in possession of one of the sexiest voices, for my money, at least. This version has Spanish subtitles - now that's sexy!




I really don't know to explain the next one, but it gives me goosebumps. I can imagine it blasting at some dank basement party, beer and booze smell in the air, stale cigarettes - having to scream really loud in each others' ears just to be heard...

Let's Go Get Stoned...

I can't believe I almost passed this by - I was trying to find a video of Ray Charles doing "Let's Go Get Stoned" and I was having no luck. But then I struck afternoon gold: Joe Cocker doing an insane bang up fucking amazing job at Woodstock in 1969. The setting is amazing. The mood, sublime. At one point, Joe breaks out into a mean air guitar, which a moments mutates into air drumming. Talk about practice what you preach. Amen and hallelujah.

the smell of wine and cheap perfume...

Seriously, folks. I get goosebumps from this one.

Afternoon Delight

I'm tired. Not sure why. Walked two miles in the bitter cold... Thought it would pick me up, a brisk walk in the sunshine, but it left me exhausted. Then I had pasta with a meat ragu... I didn't have the energy to chew the last few bites; the food coma set in quick. It's not even 6pm and about a half hour ago, I was ready for bed.
But, oh, my warm, milky friend, you rescued me. Thank you, Coffee. To crave you and then to have you is pure ecstasy.

up up - go further faster...

There are some very creative folks visiting my subway station... They are constantly improving the posters. These are two of my favorites.

why I love the internet

This is some seriously f*cking awesome footage of some dudes yodeling. The scenery is amazing, the mood is amazing. Be sure to listen for the dog...

the sweet smell of ON'D

We're working on ideas for the ON'D lifestyle. Scented candles are very popular these days. We are developing some very special scents...
THE CAPTAIN'S FARTS - A delicate bouquet of beer, Filet Mignon and green beans.




OLD MONEY - polyester, schnapps and carnations lend to the full-bodied aroma.

life goes on: a confession

For the last few days, I have found myself trying to wrap my brain around what is happening in Haiti. When disaster strikes, if it isn't in your back yard, it is easy to ignore, and frankly, it is hard to function on a daily basis if you really allow yourself to feel the weight of it all. On September 11th, the September 11th, I was in Paris. I lived in Brooklyn at the time, as I still do, but was in the French countryside for a wedding and was finishing up my visit with a quick stop in Paris. I didn't find out about the attacks until the morning of the 12th. I don't know how I missed it, but I was on vacation, busy enjoying myself and cloaked in blissful ignorance. When I got back to my hotel on the night of the 11th, I saw people huddled around the TV in the lobby and I thought, what silly folks for watching TV when they are visiting Paris. On the morning of the 12th, my mother in law knocked on our hotel room door. "New York was bombed." She was confused and upset so the message came out all wrong. We turned on the TV and watch the planes hit the towers over and over and over again.
I remember the day I spent in Paris, after I found out about what had happened, after my reality shifted. My body was possessed by it. But those Parisians seemed to go on with life as usual. I mean, people were talking about it, but things didn't seem different. I longed to be home with my friends. I longed to be with people who felt how I felt. We couldn't get back to NYC for over a week. The planes into the city were backed up. We spent a night at a hotel outside of the airport in Paris. It was in a strange little village. The pillowcases had black spots on them and a mildewy smell. The people at the reception desk were rude. We went to a mediocre restaurant, the only place to find food in the village, and took an after dinner stroll on the little cobblestone streets. There was this tree in the middle of the village that was absolutely filled, packed, with birds, all shrieking in unison. A pair of white panties lay on the ground under the tree and there was bird shit everywhere. It was absolutely creepy and we rushed back to our smelly hotel room. We were able to fly to Germany the next day to be with my in-laws. We found comfort in the company of family and old friends. I made a Rosh Hashanah dinner for my German in-laws. I have fond memories of that time, although I was filled with the most intense longing to be home.
I remember reading about the earthquake in Haiti a few days ago. But I didn't pause. I just continued with whatever I was doing. Slowly over the course of the week, it is starting to sink in. I am trying to digest it, let it under my skin. But it hurts too much. So I head back to life as usual... I go out to hear Cuban music and I dance. I love to dance. To be locked arm in arm with someone and be supported in movement and motion is a high - a totally addictive high. In those moments, I do not think about anything. I am in the moment and I am happy.
I remember when my dad died. I was 24 years old. The pain was tremendous and I had never experienced anything like it before. The night before he died, I wanted to call him, something told me to, but I was busy and kept saying that I would call in five minutes. I never called. At two in the morning, I checked my email and there was a note from him. He died a few hours later. Why didn't I fucking call? I remember after the funeral, I was sitting around and laughing with old friends and family. I couldn't believe it, and I was self-conscious at first, but that was when I learned that I was capable of laughing and I knew that the soul was capable of healing itself and I would be able to be happy again.
So here I sit in my apartment in Brooklyn, reflecting on my life, trying to understand what is going on in Haiti. It just hurts too fucking much. There is pain all around us every day. When you pass someone on the street, you don't know what is going on inside their head, inside their body. We go on with our lives as people suffer pain we will never know and we also go on with our lives as we suffer tremendous pain. I am not trying to compare my father's death or September 11th with what is happening now in Haiti. But I can only measure grief with my own ruler of experience.
I will repeat now the lesson I learned when my father died. Suck the marrow out of life. Live your life. Love and be loved. Fuck it. Go for it. You only live once, so you might as well dance.

hell yes