Archive Page 2


World Cup 2010

Not a bad day for US soccer, we open with England.

Group C
Match Date Venue Results
5 12 June Rustenburg England England USA USA
6 13 June Polokwane Algeria Algeria Slovenia Slovenia
22 18 June Johannesburg Slovenia Slovenia USA USA
23 18 June Cape Town England England Algeria Algeria
37 23 June Nelson Mandela Bay/Port Elizabeth Slovenia Slovenia England England
38 23 June Tshwane/Pretoria USA USA Algeria Algeria


Part of a final Project I’m working on

Thanks to everyone at Wolf’s, you guys were awesome! The beer bier was fuckin amazing. (If it wasn’t a German name, (and I wasn’t half in the bag) I might be able to tell you what it was called). The atmosphere was sweet. Awesome staff and customer group– and some even knew me, and other people, from Vintage! Small world.  So this is something I put together for a class, and thought it would be cool to spread the word about Wolff’s Biergarten, in downtown Albany.

Oh, and of course I’d use any excuse to do my homework in a bar…

Matt– if you want any of this edited, credited, or removed, please let me know.


How Ill Is This?

Always love when artists from different genres of music collaborate and come out with something as sick as this.

Jay and John- who knew they could rock this hard together?



Neart Gra agus Onoir

“You’re such a fucking idiot!” said Jeff. “Tattoos are some of the most addicting things—and you know you’re personality is the most addictive personality… you’re fucked.”


Jeff, (from Binghamton) may have a point there. I got my first ink job done yesterday on what felt like an impulse buy. After waking up and taking Pat to the airport, I thought to myself, if he could get on the plane, then you can get the ink. It’s been so long since I’ve wanted these four Gaelic words on my back, that it almost felt like I was making excuses on why I wasn’t getting it.


So after saying, “Fuck it” to myself, I went to class and decided not to tell anyone where I was going to be at 2:30, (this way if I pussyed-out no one would find out). But as soon as I decided where on my body I wanted it, I started drawing tattoo number two, (so apparently Jeff’s got a point there).


While I was driving this girl home from class, I let it slip that I was about to go down to Lark Tattoo. Having a few tatts herself, she was excited to tag along, and see my tattoo-cherry get popped. After stopping off at my house to pick up the correct spelling, Tommy, my roommate, decided to come also. Well it was a good day for Lark Tattoo, being that 15 minutes into my tat, Tommy decided to get his sidepiece of Minerva done, and Alyssa decided to get a sketch of her next tattoo done.


By the way, for anyone in Albany looking to get some inkage done, I recommend Lark Tattoo! The people are AWESOME. From Ally, who helped me decide on a size, to Kyle, the artist who was payed to use a needle to put thousands of holes in my body, and all the other customers and artists in there, all helped make the experience rad.


At one point Kyle, the tattoo artist (who I’m going to ask to do my next one) said to me, “I wouldn’t be doing what I was doing if I was normal—who wants to be normal?” Right then I knew I was in good hands; funky and down to earth people, with a witty answer for everything, I felt right at home!


Let it be said, that I AM NO ARTIST! Maybe from being wound up all the time, or the high amounts of alcohol, but my hands shake—a lot. Although I can’t draw, I do have a creative mind. I began to sketch out the design for tattoo number two. Won’t go into too much detail, other that right now, it looks like a big guitar on my back/side, going into an Amp on my arm, going into a set of headphones around my neck. Throw in some words, flowers, and musical notes, and voila! Tattoo number two should cost me a pretty-penny.


the itch for ink


Getting Inked

Before anyone reads this post, understand two things;


One, I wrote this at 6 a.m.

Two, I’m posting this at 12:40 a.m., drunk wasted–update to follow in a few hours…


The itch for ink is one I have not been able to scratch off since I was a young boy. I remember thinking how cool my uncle was for having a tattoo on his forearm from his days in the Navy. Although most of the detailing smudged and faded away by time, it was a tattoo nonetheless, and from as long as I can remember I have wanted one.


Like most of the things I’ve wanted in my life, my family has never approved right away. From the day I came home with a cell phone at thirteen, to the day I came home with a car, at nineteen. (O.K. my dad signed the contract, and my mom paid the bill, but no one was really thrilled with the idea of me having a phone; and as for the car, I worked two jobs, for a few years to save up enough money to get lease a car.)


Like the phone, and car, and pretty much everything else I’ve bought or done irrationally, no one in my family would ever entertain the thought of me having a tattoo. My mom’s side of the family is Jewish, and it’s against the religion to get a tattoo, (same reason you cant get piercing; return your body to the earth the same way it came—which makes sense.)  And although I was raised Jewish, and do enjoy certain parts of the culture, rules of any religion are not something I’ve ever taken particularly seriously.


As for my dad’s side of the family, well most of them are still in Ireland, but I could tell you he wouldn’t approve. One of his brothers had one, and he used to tell me stories of how he hated it, and how girls would never go out with me if I had one.


Personally, I think if I’ve been wanting for something long enough, and it’s my body, then I should have the freedom to do what I want to it, without fear of judgment or consequence from anyone. Don’t get me wrong, while I think tattoo’s are a form of art, I don’t understand getting something that doesn’t mean something to the wearer. Granted, it may not mean something to you forever, but if its important enough, in twenty years you can look at it, and remember where you were in your life, what you held close and important to you at that point, and how much you’ve grown since that tattoo.


So here I go, off to Lark Street Tattoo, just a stone’s throw from my living room, and I’ll update everyone in a couple of hours.


New post with new picture of the finished tat coming soon…


The Last Game Of Fifa… For Now

"I'm catching the next flight out" -Pat

Today started like any other day. I woke up early, didn’t realize what day it was— because going home for these four day-five night weekends throws off my internal clock off— wrote a paper, rewarded myself with a bowl, got inspired to edit some of the audio for my photo project, rewarded myself with some porn, went to the city’s records hall, and then got a text message that made this day different from any other.


Breathe easy… I promise no more run on sentences.


The text was from one of my best friends who I met in Albany and read, “So I meant to tell you fools before we got sky-high last night, but on Thursday morning I’m trying to make a change in my life and flying one-way out west.”


My initial response was, “Alright wait for me.” It took me a minute to tell myself that I can’t walk out on my bills and school without planning first, and concluded that I don’t have the balls for it when I’m so close to graduating, (fingers crossed). A couple of minutes later, I got a text from Tommy, my roommate, saying “Did you get a text from Pat?” We couldn’t figure out if he was kidding or not.


All this seems too familiar, with two of my best friends moving to Florida, and North Carolina during and after high school.  The feeling you get when you have to say goodbye for the last time for a while always sucks. Fuck, it’s hard to say peace to your closest friends when you leave for the summer.

Anyway, Pat was over tonight watching some of the ASU basketball game, (they won 52-49), and we played what’s probably our last game of Fifa for a while. (For those of you who don’t know Pat, he’s a kick-ass soccer player, who is somewhat descent at the electronic version of the sport). After beating both Tommy and me consecutively, I couldn’t let him leave for another time zone without kicking his ass at least once in Feef’s—luckily I won in round two… apparently I can do everything but score.

At one point in the night I said, “I know you’re excited, but are you nervous at all?” – “Yeah a little bit”, said Pat. “Good”, I responded.


With a change in your life like this, it’s good to be on your toes a little bit. The nerves working helps you survive.


However, being in a summer state, where it rarely drops below 70 degrees, and a realm of national parks, desserts, cliffs and canyons in your backyard has to have somewhat of a calming effect.


Pat if you’re reading this, good luck to you brotha, give me a holler if you ever make it out to Vegas—I could always use another trip out there. And if you end up broke traveling the country on freight trains, I’m down for that too.


I’m excited to see where he’s going to be in a year—I just hope he makes it far enough so that he doesn’t want to come home until he is ready to.


Poker Night

ChipsWhat ever happened to poker night? Not only did we used to play at least once a week back home, but everyone in Albany knows how to play– (Well, mostly everyone).

Drinking in and playing poker could be a way to party in this shitty economy without breaking the bank. Anyone in Albany play poker and drink whiskey beer or wine? let me know!

For now its just some online poker, and the thought of taking off to Turning Stone soon.

June 2018
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