It’s on me: A drink for a doodle
December 12, 2010
You get something, I get something. I’ll buy your therapy.
Dish out your self-portrait. Be creative + crafty or dangerous + sharp. Be you. Exaggerate. Pour out some paint, throw in some mud, use your fingers, and make a mess!
Why should you waste time with chunks of crayon, erasers, and glue sticks?
Therapy. It feels really good. And who isn’t a tad narcissistic these days? Check out my mermaid waves. Also, I’ll include a link to your website if you want some attention.
Other than a free therapy session (unleash your inner tarantula or unicorn), I buy you a drink. Since I can’t and won’t take you out for a drink, I’ll send you a drink via snail mail. (Spend it on cotton swabs or jelly beans if you don’t drink alcohol.)
I get the doodle, and you get the drink. Win-win-WIN. There are stipulations, of course. And I don’t just give drinks away. Effort is necessary.
Here’s what you get when you give:
→Share a self-portrait with your story, and you’ll be savoring a delicious PBR in no time. $3
→Bacon beer in your belly. Submit a diorama with the story, and you will taste the meat in no time. Cheers. $5
→If you are eco-friendly and apply organic materials to the caricature (with story), then salt up the arm, a tequila shot is on the way. Tequila! $7
→Ambitious and dangerous? Two drawings with two stories = One delicious dirty martini. Encourage a friend to play! $9
→Delight your friends. Collect 5 self-portraits + stories. Send. Celebrate with a round of shots. $21
It’s easy to submit. Fill out the form.
A telegram
December 31, 2009
The stories of my five friends and myself: These are telegram style.
Bob B. went to war and didn’t come back. Bob S. got hooked on weed and is now a junky. The other Bob S. hasn’t come around for a while. Bob H. stole my girl and I still want to punch him. And Bob V. isn’t named Bob at all. His name is Joel. My story is art is dead. I killed it. This is my self-portrait and the self portraits of my friends if I say so.
-Patrick Waldron
Lessons from a blood-thirsty bat
October 27, 2009
Heed the lead of the vampire bat, and play nice with your neighbor. Tit for tat.
In bat world, if one guy doesn’t snack on a bloody meal every two nights, he will need a kiss from a friend or face death.
Bats are probably more altruistic than some of us. A donor bat will help his hungry buddy and share some dinner (blood) through a succulent smooch. When a group of vampire bats keep each other alive, the whole colony is more likely to survive. No need for greed.
Selfish souls will not stumble upon success.
Lesson: Share your toys & snacks with friends and foes (if they are in your Facebook network). Give lots of kisses. Help the needy.
Want to be a baby’s mama? … for a bat? Sponsor one.
There is no after-party at Medieval Times
April 21, 2009
You are truly a blessed person if you have the privilege of entering the mystical world of Medieval Times. And if the Big Lady above is really looking out for you, you may even get two visits under your armor. Once you know the wenches by name, you become a M.T.G. (Medieval Times’ Groupie) – just like The Cable Guy. I won’t judge what I may one day become.
Photo stolen from Darren Lasso esquire darrenlasso.com all rights reserved
I learned a few important things as a big kid at Medieval Times.
1. The Green Knight of Asturius is the hot-tempered warrior. He’s arrogant and stubborn – the exact qualities that most women desire. He was my favorite. I met him after the show, and I was very disappointed to learn that he was a modest, polite man – there wasn’t even a hint of sarcasm or annoyance in his voice.
2. There are only nine castles in the United States. What a shame. I can knock off the Illinois & New Jersey Castles from my hot-spot destination list. Lucky maiden I am.
3. Don lofre Santa Creu, aka the B&W Knight, always wins. It would have been good to know that secret prior to sitting in the blue section. The Blue Knight blows. I did feel some compassion for him as we left the castle. He looked blue so I told him he put up a good fight (a special moment captured on camera). He didn’t though. Green Knight should have won.
4. Perspectives change. The knights looked a tad bit different than I remembered as a 9-year-old kid. The shock didn’t hit me until I saw the knights up-close. I’d guess these guys might be around 19 or 20-years-old max. Not how I remembered them at all.
5. I’m digging the long-haired Legends of the Fall, Brad Pitt-look. I feel a comeback. When the economy starts growing, mark my word, the hair will too.
6. Eating the feast without utensils was not as thrilling to me as an adult. It’s just the norm. Maybe I should re-evaluate my dining style.
7. As I was told by my teenage waiter, and retold by Don Temple, there is no after-party at Medieval Times.
High-Heel Challenge: Day 28
March 25, 2009
Day 28 was a boisterous one – filled with my magical birthday boots (below), bubble blowing, bacon beer, and my new favorite spot: Barcade in Williamsburg, NYC. Who wouldn’t want to spend a day playing Gauntlet, Super Mario Bros, Frogger, and Tetris while burning through some high caliber Coney Island amber beer?
I’ve almost graduated from my month long high-heel challenge, but for some reason, even on day 28, I did not feel close to the finale. Perhaps summer school is needed before I toss the graduation cap in the air and receive my stiletto.
I’ll be honest, I might need more time in this challenge because I cheated a little. It was a dark day in February. It snowed. My feet found their way into sneakers. It didn’t mean anything, I swear. Thankfully, my roommate called me out on my bad behavior, and I took off the running shoes immediately.
I suggest that you get a friend, foe, or family member to be your bully during the challenge. It helps. Believe me.
But it’s spring now, and my excuses are finito. I’ve grown surprisingly comfortable wearing any heel up to 2″ which is a huge improvement. Once I get above the 2″ mark, I’m still a bit skiddish. I’ve completely worn out a few of my reliable work heels. You can do a lot of damage in 28 days!
Let me be frank. I’m still figuring out what I want to accomplish with these extra inches. I don’t know exactly what I want to feel, but I’ve felt really comfortable recently – it’s odd how the confidence level seems to rise with the foot pain. I’m slightly concerned about long-term damage to my feet. For now, I’m okay. This show will continue.
