Hi Love

04/24/2026

The LATE TO THE PPPARTY Edition.

Hi guys!

Have you also been in a death loop of constant doom scrolling, horror maxxing any possible sleep with the urge to respond to a stupid tweet about the city plunging into Batman, Gotham City levels of despair?

Do you erase the apps off your screen as a deterrent, only to open them from your recently used tab?

Yeah man… it’s getting pretty hard to do these. Mind you I don’t even live in the city, but the constant concern for the well being of my friends and family, as a society of sordid sociopaths hijack the algorithm of our brand, and edit our content to fit their 15 second narrative of local town dump garbage.

I can see myself in my tighty whiteys, slight beer belly hanging over the waist band, a burning filter of a once fat joint in one hand, peering though the window shades over the radiator my landlord forgot to turn off, so I’m sweating like a fugitive in Mexico City… thinking to my now Mandela Effected self like, “are these N words serious?!”…

They terrified that too?! 😫

Back to my phone. It’s two immigrants fighting over a parking space in Queens followed by a SHARK BITE and the next thing you know I’m watching LEGO animations of our drunk ass FBI director.

The internet used to just be party fliers and sobriety announcements. Surprise one of your home girl have a p**n career, one of your boys is a creep, here’s a code to get 75% off on Polo!

I’m so tired.

Just give me a book club and an early bed time please. They pe***ng out there.

AND PLEASE COME TO MY 15 MINUTE READING MONTHLY SERIES AT .bk THIS MONDAY 4/27.

I’ll be there along with .innermission, and our special guest reader is

7-9 PM. Reading at 8:30PM sharp. 3 readers, 5 minutes each. You’re be home before the next MTA service change. No bu****it. Tell a friend!

04/20/2026

We just need 15 minutes of your time.
Reading starts at 8:30 sharp.

Special guest:

bk innermission

04/07/2026

The WHO WORE IT BEST Edition:

Every once in a while, I would get an invite alert from an old high school friend about a reunion. I just turned a half-century old a few months ago - so yes - I received it on Facebook.

I always fight the urge to turn the comment section into a rage bait confessional. I would read the comments of the others, and they were always happy and optimistic. Not being dead or in jail at our age is a huge win in NYC, and is celebrated as such…

Not I.

I’d read that s**t with a searing, boiling, seething hate. How dare they come to my cracked iPhone screen with these “Breakfast Club” meet “KIDS” scented memories of career making basketball games and magical prom nights, when all of my memories are nothing but the alternate routes I would have take to make it to and from school safely?

I went to Art & Design HS. A specialized school for creatives, right in the middle of Manhattan on the east side. Near a major train hub.

For the first year, I lived in Spanish Harlem, where I would have to avoid the stick-up kids from the projects and the crack heads along the side blocks to make it to the 456.

The last 3 years I lived in the Lower Side, where I had to avoid the same thing, but add rampaging mostly white and Latino graffiti gangs to that list.

My school was next to an all-girl Catholic school. A lot of our first-white-girl hook-ups came from those schools. Because my school was 75% boys, we did a lot of “peacocking”.

Unfortunately, that also brought on a lot of gang assaults and armed robberies. The chain snatching and Shearling coat muggings of the 80’s bled into the Jansport-tag-racking and booster-blitzing of any major department store dumb enough leave their double doors open.

Everyone got jumped.

Having several routes home that you alternated like you were a neurotic on Homeland was how you survived… especially if you liked to wear Polo, by mo*********ng Ralph Lauren.

I wore Polo, but I - like most of the underground hip hop nerds - got really good at wearing the quiet upper middle class luxury stuff. The golf jackets & Polo Country boots. We’d switch it up and rock them with Eddie Bauer slacks and Nautica jackets.
⬇️

04/01/2026

Once again, thank you for making my return home one for the books. Pun intended. This weekend was everything.

I would like to thank for allowing me the space.

I want to thank .innermission & - a true downtown NY legend who has never read publicly before - for both their time & talents.

Shouts to for hosting me (and that supersized guest list, was NUTS), and to everyone who showed their face.

These 15 minute monthly readings are a passion project, and an experiment where I get to take myself out of my comfort zone and edit my 16 year old writings and recite them in public. To complete the capsule, I want to invite & showcase others that were present during those times, and give them a chance to share their stories.

The history books are being written as we speak, I just want to make sure the people that inspired me are also heard.

For those that weren’t able to attend. I’m releasing each zine on my site. So far I’ve created 3, with the first one produced by for . Truly honored.

If you can’t support then please share. Those round trip bus tickets are like $160 and I don’t want to stop. I’ve finally found what I want to do with the rest of my life.

A lot more of this.

Oh yeah, and congrats to for his new album release, and thanks you for allowing me to tag along.

Trippps Uppp.

LINK IN BIO. SWIPE RIGHT.

03/28/2026

GUESS WHO HAS A GAGGLE OF FREE PASSES TO BEMF?!

You don’t gotta do anything but just DM me. And yes, I will be there.

03/27/2026

The “Yo Can I Talk To You” Edition.

You got your Jay Z tickets? Gonna go see the Jigga Man give it all his AARP can handle?While secretly hexing every single vital organ in his body, in hopes the Bey has to take over?
Lofty, but I’m happy and here for you. Be sure to stop in Spanish Harlem at a Botanica for a root or three before the show. Security is soft they won’t take your voodoo doll.

Personally, I get a little nervous when a billionaire wants to return back to work but… what are you gonna do? Loose it all in Bitcoin? Trying to short energy futures? You’re better off betting on the number of men that will serve time over the Epstein files.

Polymarket, please put all of my house and accompanying land on zero.

Now, if you’re a Gen Z baddie, planning to travel to the Bronx because said performer was recommended in Goop, I feel like it’s my duty to make you aware of a few things.

First all it’s Spring, and you’re going to go to a show where the medium age is I-Went-To-Spotford-in-the-early-nineties year old.

Courting was much different. If you hear an “AYO” or a “YO MA LEMME HALLA AT YA”, do not turn around. Pretend that you’re adjusting some invisible headphones, and start loudly start singing the lyrics to “Keep on Moving” by Soul 2 Soul. He’ll know...

Now, if the former du-rag and tall-white-tee connoisseur gives chase, and taps you on the shoulder or even - god forbid - pulls you by your arm. Please remind his that “RESPECT” by Aretha Franklin is more than just a song divorced D.J.’s sneak into wedding playlists, and he should probably have his prostate checked out. It’s time.

You have to understand, he grew up during an era where all it took was a gold chain, some fronts, and a little intimidation, and he could caveman drag any woman he wanted home. Sharing an Arizona Ice tea & a pressed ham & cheese was considered a date.

Women looked for men who could hold their own in a one on one vs their dads. If your friends are from New York, look at their parents. If the mom looks like a ballet dancer, I’d bet a Times Square casino that father looks like a kid from a nearby satellite school that bullied her on her way home.
⬇️

03/23/2026

The “Picked The Wrong Year To Quit Smoking” Edition.

S**E!

That’s just the name of the title.

If you see me in the streets (in this case Friday and Saturday), feel free to pelt me with frozen Marlboro Lights like they are snowballs and I’m NYPD.

I can’t wait till I’m crashing at a friends couch in the Lower East Side using the Citizen App & DOJ warnings to assess the threat levels of my commute from Avenue C & 5th to Sunni & Anne’s.

Parade season is here, and I’m looking forward to all the (false) flags our welcoming nation can wave. By the looks of it we only have like two currently. Our Global Good Will PR campaign is “killing it”.

Oh well. I guess I can mentally negotiate my bucket list trip to see the alien like fauna at the Socatra Islands in Yemen, and trade it for a visit to Lucy the Elephant at the Jersey Shore. It heard comes with an extra 24 hours in your car idling on the GSP. This is the only type of “traffic” I voted for!

Now I’ve never been to Atlantic City, so I have to ask; do you need shots to avoid a staph infection from the Broadwalk? Do they stamp passports? Or just your he**in & fentanyl baggies? Either way I’ll take em, I love a good regional collectible!

Cherry Blossoms & Salt Water Taffy? Or a potential “Death to America” while trying to take a picture of the Leaning Tower of Pisa shooting out of my crotch?

Foreign baddies flirting for potential kompromart? Or local baddie Hinge hustling for free meals, only to stand outside the restaurant smoking ci******es, in hopes a Tiny Mic’er - carrying a ring cam & and a ignored eviction “Dear John” from their roommates - stops and asks about the fit?

And that’s why when I travel, I’ll claim only NYC over the U.S.A., The people of the world get it, and treat me in kind. Especially since I’m not a dork that announces the street & hood before the city when asked about their origin.

I get it - loco for my locals & s**t - but I usually do that in the states. F**k is someone in Kuala Lumpur gonna know about the L.E.S.?!

If you’re getting jumped in Japan by a bunch of Triads, I hope you picked up “The 52 Blocks” and not where- it’s-located-on-Mapquest from Beststuy.
⬇️

03/17/2026

THE GREEN WITH ENVY EDITION:

Happy St. Paddy Wagon Day in NYC.

Wish I was there.

As a man, it’s a great time to get your Ted Moseby on. And if you know this reference, then you’re definetly going to try and use this h***y ass holiday to try and find your future wife. F**k yeah bother.

It’s a great time to make out with an administrative assistant you’ve just met drunk in a Midtown bar wearing a green T-shirt you brought from CVS a few moments earlier.

The weather’s perfect, cold and grey enough to make Marshall from accounting hot enough for sloppy bathroom stall s*x.

To all the college kids trying to do your own thing, flexing your fake I.D.s in hopes the Nigerian bouncer is too exhausted to accurately examine another fake, just stop.

This holiday is only for G-Suite Jr. Execs and people that still work the mailroom in publishing companies. Law interns & Dental Assistants. People in Unions who have at least one family member who died in 9/11. People who think they pay way too much in NYC taxes. This is their spring break. Stay the f**k out of McSorley’s.

Ladies please watch your drinks today. For years I thought St. Patrick’s was the Patron Saint of S*x, then you get older and realize it’s just two co-workers non-consensually assaulting each other in a phone booth near a bunch of office trash (remember those NYC?).

Also, if you make out with a stranger on the L.I.R.R. Or MetroNorth today it counts as several bodies. Please try to puke inside the trash cans people please and don’t make “s**tfaced at 1 p.m.” everyone else’s problem. The cops need to be catching turnstile hoppers they don’t have time for you and your little dispute with Shelly who made a pass at your boyfriend and now you wanna fight her in a micro mini.

We don’t need another generation of December babies. Especially those conceived from human kegs. So here’s a terrible Irish diddy I found, to remind all you about safe s*x-maxxing (did I get that right?). Marine Park is full, and Hell’s Kitchen is more rainbow than pot of gold.

⬇️

03/10/2026

THE “YOU UP?” EDITION.

Hey New York.

It’s been a minute love what’s up?

Yeah I’m back in town. Got back last Sunday, red eye & s**t. Yo I thought we could like, catch up.

I’ve been following you on the gram and yeah… you know, I like what I see. You’re doing amazing.

Gotta new man huh? I see you. I can see how he got you. Your kids still can’t behave in malls and don’t know how to properly ride a train but… at least he didn’t make your Winter a Slip & Fall-Class-Action-Lawsuit-Summer.

Those sidewalks did look really hot on you… clean enough to… eat.

Nah na you know I’m playing. Respectfully.

He’s doing his “thing” thing and I totally love that for you. I know your time is money baby and I sure don’t plan to waste yours - again - standing here all up in your real estate, like I don’t know what to do with all of that.

😈

Oh? What about my other bitch you said? You mean the Catskills?! Hahaha nah chill we going through some things right now… I still stay there and all but - it’s not like that.

We’ve been on a break since Christmas. I couldn’t stop her from doing snow, so I left, and told her I wouldn’t return until she got help. I feel for her but, the more patient I became with her, the more I missed you.

I’m not gonna lie, I did see a few things, and they were cute but… Colombia, Costa Rica, and Panama City came really close but… nothing compares to you baby.

Ha ha you think I’m being corny? Baby I’ve looked. From skyline to thigh lines and oh my.

I miss you sooo much. And… you miss me too right? I be seeing your invites. Always throwing an event, hoping I show up. Ha ha.

I know..I did kind of leave you when you were a little sick baby but I’m so sorry. I just wasn’t ready for all of that. Plus I just needed a little space.. you know I’m hardheaded and don’t like to be told what to do.

But I always checked up on you. Sneaky links on Ludlow or East Broadway. You can’t say that wasn’t fun.

So uh, let’s do it again. It’s 2026. Let’s just take it slow this time.

I know times are a little rough right now but, we might be the escape we need. I’m not trying to wreck your home or mine.: we just need a third thing. Our secret little thing.
⬇️

02/11/2026

Good Morning.

As you may all know, I’ve been away.

This year the wife & I decided on a new spot for the winter - a city. They call it the Dubai of Central America. I instantly fell in love.

I met the most wonderful being - a key to the city - and she allowed me to tag along with her on a project. Impressed by a wheatpaste I did for Mexico City Art Week back in 2020 (right before the pandemic put out the lights) she suggested I should put a few up.

I quickly updated it.

Our first outing was nerve wrecking. We rode the metro through the city during commuter hours, using the daytime as camouflage. I was sloppy. My paranoia leaked paste all over my clothes.

I’d seen people get jailed for days for simply for putting up a tiny sticker in NY, and did not want to find out what they did in Panama.

She was hit by a taxi cab that was being chased by police, and walked it off like an old lady bumped her shopping cart into her.

This was day one.

On the third outing, we traveled near midnight, as she wanted to post on all the main roadways. I was even more anxious, the streets were loud & quiet at the same time. I kept scanning the rushing traffic for police cars, like I had x ray vision that worked through headlights.

The paint brush wasn’t fast enough for me. I started using my hands to scoop up the oatmeal chunky glue, rubbing it on the concrete & the smutty metal of electrical boxes tha punctuated every block. My heart was drag racing with my breath. I didn’t massage the posters into the wall, I gave it chest compressions.

The homie looks at me, drenched in mucus water, and turned to her boy - another artist who drove us; and had joined her in observing a very rabid me.

“Chacho Que locura…” or something like that.

“Este tipo esta salvage..”

“Yo you know this isn’t illegal right?”

PERO COÑO THIS MY 3RD TIME OUT WITH YOU AND NOW YOU TELL ME?!

🤣

Tomorrow night I’ll be reading in Spanish for the first time ever at .

To celebrate trying out new things I’m selling prints of the work I’ve done down here. Merch was out the question (tariffs), and the local post office will only mail documents to the United States.
⬇️

01/01/2026

12/31/2025

Only 15 more hours to go.

One day I’ll tell the story of how I went to Times Square for the ball drop during for the millennium. I met a real life Elephant Man, who smoked me out with some Cali w**d he smuggled tucked inside his facial deformity.

He was cool af.

I left by 10:30pm.

See ya next year.

❤️✌🏾