everyday is a different story

the assassination of sam cooke

sometimes it's nice to wake up in your old neighborhood.

Our love will look good on paper

Yearning for discourse in the late hours of the night while pinned down at the office:






Blind fold me, tie me to the lamp post outside, read to me a little bit of Faust, and tell me everything will be ok.

You're next, Chet Pomeroy!

Get gratuitous!

I'm Your Man

so i spent my final day in the land formerly known as the cccp rubbernecking women that you may only find in the september issue of gq, hustling up gifts for loved ones in the united states of christine o'donnell, and haggling with scalpers who spoke broken english for a leonard cohen ticket.

suffice it to say, it was a success:


the show started at seven (no ifs, ands, or buts!) had we known this, d to the p and i would've waited a bit earlier so we wouldn't have had to endure this line.


the entrance to the kremlin:


sadly, i missed him performing "Dance With Me to the End of Love" and "The Future" and I was just beginning to sit down as he was midway through "Bird On A Wire." thankfully, oh so thankfully, he played some of his best work from his extensive catalogue after the first intermission. Songs like "Chelsea Hotel #2", "Tower of Song", "So Long Marianne", "Hallelujah", and "I'm Your Man", were performed with not a hint of lethargy from this mid-seventies songwriter.



back in the states, dropping some massive love and stink bombs!

the crew

germany/russia pfizer (team 2):

linda:

(fixer/translator/speaker-of-what-is-on-her-mind)
quote: "Oh, cute boy Julian! Don't go whoopsy poopsy now! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

bjorg:

(driver/chauffeur/imbiber of cheap german beer)

fyodor:

(fixer/translator/runner-up for the liam gallagher look-a-like contest)
quote: (*walking out of my hotel room with two pelican cases, a production book, and a bottle of vodka* "hmmmmmmmm, now there is a nice set up!")

mikhail:

(translator/artist/a maven of russian monastery history)
quote: "bill, are you going anywhere? no? good! please explain to me the english dialect in great detail!"


elian:

(driver/professional sleeper)

bill:

(director of photographer/notre dame football fan)
quote: "maybe you shouldn't drink half a bottle of vodka on an empty stomach!"

sarah:

(producer/director/guru/muse/lush)
quote: "he wasn't even discreet when he asked me! he was like, 'so sarah, how do women have sex with one another?'"

julian:

(producer/director/editor/pa/lover of life/lush)
quote: *while inside of dairy farm "i can totally cut a fart here, and no one would ever know it was me!

now it's back in the u.s. of a, cycling through the entire leonard cohen catalogue.

there ain't no cure for love.







*this was quoted in my head. at no point was this quote directed at any person at any point in time

john lennon's tomb

tomorrow i will wake up roughly a half a mile away from red square without a care in the world.
we wrapped up shooting today.
no more 4:30 wake-up calls.
no longer will i have to endure the putrid smell of cow shit and tinkle.



first we take germany, then we'll take russia.
check.
now i must take on mr. leonard cohen at the kremlin theatre tomorrow night.

til we meet again.

when in rome:




with you gone, d to the p drank for three:


it's cool though, you can totally drink here.
happy hour was in the production van this time.

more to cum.

tales from the Silent Revolution

apparently our translator, Mikhail, coined the term "Silent Revolution" when the Soviet Union was on the cusp of going westway to the world.

meet Mikhail:


people sit around and stare at water here, because they wait for twenty-something art fags to snap pics:


so dig this shit, Liam Gallagher is laying low and decided to take up work as a Russian fixer for documentary crews that come through the area:


this is sarah. she has an album coming out on Touch and Go. here's her album cover:


suffice it to say, rural russia is roughly a several decades behind the times. think borat without the satire.
but at least they are up-to-date with pop music:




more to cum!
i promise.

shit is alive.
and i'm not just talking about watching cows shitting every five minutes and getting loaded on horrific vodka.

free hangovers at red square

so the 2 live crew and i were fretting about getting our gear into russia, but low and behold we found ourselves throwing back russia's finest subpar vodka at $10 a shot at the hotel bar within an hour of our arrival into the country.
putin's grimace appears to be plastered on to every single government agency employee.
even when flashing that work of art i call a passport, not a single smirk.

but the women here. . . . . . .
oh me, oh my!
i believe a majority of the women here are contracted by dior.

honeymoon pose:



not sure who this guy is. probably some local worth checking out:


doing it all for the nookie:


kinda got in the mood to play some tetris:


a famous russian cowboy:


let's move.
let's walk.
better yet, let's run.
you and me.
fast.
faster.
it'll hurt, but let's go with it.

"fleeing from the valley of whirling daggers"
once it hits the 3:20 mark, just go!


there's that analogy about the shark, right?
about it moving forward or it'll get harpooned by a samoli pirate if it fucks around with the dolphins.

but there is no there.
if we have to start, if we have to put a beginning on things, let's start here: