mustache may

last month a few of us decided we would hold a mustache competition. the idea was to see who could grow the coolest, creativest, cleverist, baddest, raddest mustache during the month of may. i thought for sure i was a lock for first given a) my ability to grow a full beard by 3:00 pm and b) the competition. it takes davis a month to put together a patchwork of facial hair. and i figured slade and craig, while capable of decent growth, would be no match given my werewolf-like tendencies.

there was only one problem. craig decided to invite his cousins from the colony of mexico to enter the competition. and while there was some controversy over the fairness of including contestants with permastaches (staches that have been the same since birth) “los primos” were clearly worthy of top honors and ended up running away with the whole thing. it is with great admiration that i announce the winners of the 2008 mustache may competition...

3rd place goes to miguel miguel, whose half handlebar is as sexy as his toupee is real. when asked how he felt about placing third, miguel miguel responded, "vote for pedro".

2nd place honors go to hector "handlebar" sanchez, who immediately after submitting this photo died from a lack of sun.

and this years' 1st place trophy goes to juan pierre. juan's finely manicured "pencil-stache" won the judges over as easily as it melts young men's hearts. when asked for his secret to a fine stache, juan curtly exclaimed, "i do not halv crookid eyebrowz."

los primos have decided to donate their winnings to their uncle's future campaign.

i can die a happy man

i'm not quite sure if what i'm about to tell you will be construed as outright bragging or an embarrassing confession. either way, i can't keep it in. i trust you love me for me and will accept me regardless. so here goes...

i'm gay. and by gay, i mean happy. this past weekend i went to ut. i caught wind that david archuleta's hometown visit would conincide with my trip. this seemed too good to be true. but it wasn't. my buddy, jason mizzle, happened to be coming to utah as well and he happens to be an AI fan. i picked him up from the airport and we made our way to murray high school where the festivities were going down. now i know what some of you may be thinking cause my roommate already expressed it: "two 30 year old dudes hanging out at murray high. not weird." i would agree that it would have been a bit strange had we not shaved our mustaches and discarded the bags of candy before going.

we arrived to a packed stadium; not an empty seat in the bleachers and hoards of screaming 13 year old girls frothing at the mouth, vying for a position along the track where david's motorcade would pass, chanting in robotic tones "must touch david". we stood near the frothing girls, content to just observe and take it all in. but as david's convertible neared something strange happened. a foam-like substance slowly emerged from jason's mouth, while the words "must touch david" flowed from mine. we elbowed our way onto the track, but his car was surrounded by security, FOX crew and paparazzi.

because i'm from nyc, i wear dress coats with jeans. this combination, coupled with putting my finger to my ear while pretending to be listening to a distant voice, created the illusion that i was a member of the security detail.



don't act like this doesn't spell "security"

jason, on the other hand, had fortunately brought his 1.21 gigawatt camera to capture a piece of history. that hardware, coupled with his 5 o'clock shadow, created the illusion that he was a member of the paparrazi. we now were walking alongside the next american idol, me fending off crazed girls, jason snapping photos for his scrap book.


i was able to fend off the crazed girls just long enough for jason to snap a decent photo of my buddy and me.

we followed mr. archuleta past the crowds and to the back of the stage where he was briefly interviewed. he then made his way onto the stage. jason followed with me in tow. there we were. david standing front and center looking out on the 25,000 adoring fans who had assembled to honor the hometown hero; jason and i off in the wings, jason taking photos, me trying to act important.

we moved to the front row alongside the cheer squad. we watched as the boy wonder took the mic. he thanked the crowd for their support in the same manner in which he thanks the judges when they compliment him following a solid performance, "oh thank you. oh thank you." he then favored us with the songs that propelled him to frontrunner status - imagine, angels and stand by me. girls screamed. boys looked on in envy. jason snapped more photos. i clapped my hands and jumped up and down while yelling, "we love you david". i was a happy man.

are the scooter gods trying to tell me something?

so the scooter didn’t exactly last a long long time. sarah and i picked up my lime green dream last week and drove it in the rain to lincoln center where we met the gang for iron man; iron man rocked the party that rocks the party. following the movie we drove home. i estimate we logged a total of six miles on my new ride. the following evening we excitedly got on the dream, but it didn’t start. at all. weird. maybe it just wasn’t in the mood, i thought. so we subwayed it. the next morning we gave it another go, but nothing. i would have fixed it, but i couldn’t find the on/off switch. so i had no other choice but to return it. fortunately, craig and mary had some friends in town who own a discovery. they graciously offered to haul the vespa to the vespa store. so we tucked my baby in the back, tied the door shut and in stealth-like fashion navigated our way down to soho, avoiding police and tickets along the way.

crammed in the back of the discovery

mary lecturing craig on how to tie a knot

the sales manager agreed to let me exchange the scooter rather than force me to have them fix it; i'm sucking it up and buying a new one. i placed an order for a black beauty. i will pick it up on monday and will hope for the best. having the first one stolen after only six weeks made me think i just had back luck. but with my latest dealings, i’m starting to wonder if the scooter gods don’t think i’m manly enough to drive a vespa. perhaps they want me to ride a lance.