I Let My Fists Do The Talkin’

I did more portraits of friends in July and August and forgot to put them here. Click the images to see them bigger and read who they are.

Additionally… though I suppose it is unlikely anyone will check this in time, I am doing a video-chat-call-in show called “Design Chat” tomorrow at 8 PM. The topic is design and based on the other ones, a bit about advertising/marketing/social media. (It’s a “call-in” but you do it with twitter.) Basically, it’s a high-tech pillory where you tweet questions at my head instead of rotten potatoes.

I encourage ringers to “tweet in” with softball questions like “How is it someone as beautiful and talented as you can be so amazing constantly?” or “Now that you’ve tamed the internet-avatar-making world, can any man tame your restless heart?”

http://www.designchat.info

Watch for tweets about upcoming shows from @hupajoob and @designchat. We’re trying a new format using Mashable.com’s Chat Lounge. Anyone can watch but you will need a Twitter account to participate and log in to the chat. The new time slot is 8pm on Wednesdays.
Before and after the chat you can follow the discussion at twitterfall.com/#designchat
Submit questions or topics for the special guest to @designchat.

My awkward comment starts around :50. The interviewer was yelling at me a lot; I got a little scattered.

The “FRUiTS Magazine” street shot.

This is all my own hair—no padding inside. Just backcombed into a big lumpy hair-tumor. And filled with spider eggs.

With Bryan Batt in the late-evening red haze of Times Square

With Bryan Batt, suddenly rage-filled and hand-gesturing

(These pictures were taken by my evening’s escort, the lovely Ramsey Ess.)