Picture update (Georgia, NYC and Berlin)

I have so many pictures from the last few months that I have to cram them all into one fat blog. I have so much going on that finding peace and quiet to blog has become harder and harder. I suppose that's a good thing, when one becomes too busy to sit and write, but if I don't write I feel constipated. My goal this year is t rewrite my book all over again as it's like a patch work quilt right now, in pieces that need to be sewn together. It's overwhelming to me, all the things I have in line to do and yet all I can think about is how Jasmine is doing traveling around Europe. I'm going to just comment on each picture, and hopefully it will end up as some sort of chronological story of the last few months of my life. Well, at least a tiny version of it πŸ˜‰

Melissa and I down in Douglasville Georgia ^

"Mel" as everyone calls her and I get along like two peas in a pod. She is my cousin. My Dad, who adopted me at age one, Chester, has two sisters, Nancy and Caron and although we don't share the same blood, they have been my Aunts as far back as I can remember. Caron has two kids, JC and Melissa. Mel is a little fire cracker and I can see a lot of myself in her even though we are not blood related. She has a wild heart and is very passionate about life. She is a clever little cutie who will hopefully go really far and not take any shit from anyone. LOVE YOU MEL!

;It's amazing all the things you see in the suburbs^


My Dad and Mom separated when I was 11 and he then married a woman named Allyson when I was 14. Allyson, my step-mom, had it hard when she joined our family as I was only 4 years younger than her and she had to take on 3 rowdy kids when she married my Dad. Me, my 7 year younger sister, Michele and 9 year younger brother, Chester (Chet the 4th). Then a year later, they had their own child, Zack. Zack is my step brother and we have always gotten along. Zack recently had his own child, above, also named Zack ^

I call him mini-zack. He is a cutie and gets spoiled rotten as you can imagine. He is like a photo-copy of his father. They look exactly alike. 

 The guy with the sun glasses is my brother Chester. We shared the same Mom but different Dad's (I never met my biological father, an Italian Stallion who was too cool to stick around). Chet married Dana, the woman in the picture with him, and they have a child together (not pictured here) named Chester the 5th! The little girl in the picture is Dana's daughter she had with another man (long story). 

Dana is cool as fuck. I wish I had a picture of Chet the 5th, but for some reason I didn't take that many pictures down there, I was just chillin' like Bob Dylan. Plus, I am always unsure about posting pics and info about relatives on the net as some like it, some hate it etc.. So I feel restricted.  




That is Marcel ^, my sister Michele's second son. He is a very serious child, don't remember seeing him smile much but he was pretty much glued to Jasmine's lap the whole time. He loved his cousin Jasmine. Michele has an older son, Danielle, who hangs out non-stop with Chet the 5th, that's probably why I haven't any pics of them, they run around like wild fire the whole time. The only time I saw them hold still was when I hooked up the karaoke machine. They loved it and it was pretty difficult to get the microphones out of their hands. They sang Bon Jovi, the Beatles, Led Zepp, etc.. AND Pat Benetar too. HILARIOUS!


The other pic is of Melissa and Mini-Zack. The family is tight down there. I wish I could stand living there, but I can't. I tried for a few months when I graduated high school, in between Grateful Dead tours and I went Banana's. Not enough Rock and Roll down South. UGH! Also, they are far behind in many things, like no one recycles there (unless you live in DOWN TOWN Atlanta). No one cares about eating healthy. I was cooking some tofu and the family was looking at me like I had two heads. The kids had never seen or heard of it before. They all smoke cigarettes, no one recycles or exercises  or like I said, cares about healthy eating. I prefer the NYC pace, where everyone works out, eats healthy and recycles. I need that.

It's not like my family refuses to recycle, it's just not an option in the suburbs in Georgia (and probably most of the states in the USA unless you are in a major city). What the fuck is taking so long people? RECYCLE please. Gotta take care of this planet dammit. 


 The whole family down in Georgia posed on Christmas for a group picture, all wearing these fake teeth I have in my mouth above. The picture is hilarious but it's a private thing, so just imagine a massive group of people, young and old, all smiling with these teeth in their mouth. They are a humorous bunch; love to have a good time, that is for sure.

 The green Jets hat above was given to me in 1988 by Frank Zappa backstage in Long Island. I am sure someone gave it to him, he wore it a while, then just gave it to me. I had it in my closet in Georgia for years then I finally gave it to my aunt Caron as I really hate hanging onto things. She gave it to her husband (who is now her ex) Jim. Jim is still very close to the family and is there all the time. Jim is Melissa's father (and JC's too). Jim brought the dam hat over to my Dad's for a photo-shoot. Hence the above pics. The hat is alive and well. Thanks Jim πŸ˜‰


  < Jim, with "the" hat.

This picture is from 2000, taken backstage at an Eminem show in Hartford, CT. What the hell is it doing here you say? The girl in the middle is my sister, Michele. As I said, she is 7 years younger than I am and we shared the same Mom (Mom died in 1998 ) . She and Chet the 4th are from my Dad, who raised me and my Mom. Freakin' complicated I know. Anyways, I don't have many pics of Michele and didn't even get a new one of her during my last trip to Georgia, so I am posting this one. I was on part of that Eminem tour, doing massages and when he played in Hartford, my sister begged me to bring her backstage. Em and co were so nice to me and allowed it. She only got to meet Em for like 60 seconds, but this is the pic from that dream moment. Proof, the black dude on the right, was Em's right had man for years. Proof sadly died in 2006 from a gun shot wound. Anyways, my sister was in 7th heaven meeting them. Michele and Chet look like my Mom and I look more like my Italian father (seen pics of him). 


Magenta ^ 

Ok, back in NYC, some friends of mine and I went to see the Rocky Horror Picture show at the Chelsea cinema. They act out the film, as the film plays every Friday night. I played Janet when I was in the 9th and 19th grade in Virgina Beach, Virginia. It was a fight with my Dad and Step mom to get out of the house so late each weekend, but I prevailed and had a blast. 

The cast I worked with had a fairy decent looking Frankenfurter, which makes things easier. This NYC cast, however, is apparently not choosy when it comes to casting. I swear to GOD I am not being catty when I tell you their Janet was as useless as a wet paper bag. She was HUGE and not even worth photographing and she showed NO emotion what so ever when delivering her lines, which usually came out much too late. Their Riff-Raff, Columbia and Magenta were out of this world good. Columbia being the best of the whole lot. Their Frankenfurter was in my eyes, too big and too gay. I mean, if you are too gay to even portray Frankenfurter, you need to tone it down a notch. 

I went with my buddy Danny and Jill and some other lesbian fag hag he dragged out who hated me when I wasn't accepting her sexual advances. Sorry, I have been there, but I prefer cock. Plus, she wasn't my type.  

Riff-Raff and Magenta time warping it ^

Columbia was the fucking BOMB ^  LOVED HER!



Columbia again ^ and my English friend, Jill ^ and I. Jill lives half the time in London and the other half in NYC. We get along perfectly. 


Jill and I enjoy going to LIT on Sunday nights in NYC for some karaoke. They have the BEST fucking sound in NYC. Huge song list too, only thing I don't like (there's always something) is that people are still allowed to smoke there. I guess that's why it's called "LIT". Another annoying part is that tattooed guy above ^  

He is there every time I go there (the MC told me he hasn't missed a Sunday night since 5 years). He is always high, which isn't the problem, thing is, he can't STAND it when someone else, besides him, is on stage. He is extremely LOUD when anyone else sings. He will stand right in front of you and talk to anyone who will listen (or pretend to listen) at the top of his lungs, that is, if he isn't trying to snag the mic out of your hand and sing with you.  He simply can not bear it if all eyes and ears are not on him constantly. I really want to make a documentary about karaoke as each place I have visited (London, Manchester, NYC, Berlin, LA well, all over the place)  always has some sort of weirdos fighting over the mic and stage time. It's so exciting to me to see all of this. It's even funnier than a Ben Stiller flick. 

Remember the movie "Cable Guy" how Jim Carey invited all of his customers to a karaoke party? It's pretty much like that but louder. I love the drama, and of course I love to sing. But this tattooed punk has the worst breath you can imagine. Like compost heap mixed with a side of rotting gums. He is always asking me to get high and I tell him, as I try and run away, "NO THANKS!". Oh man, the pro's and con's of karaoke. You want great sound, you have to put up with HIM and smokers. You seriously can't win. 

Anyways, the picture on the right is of Jill belting out "rock and roll" by Led Zeppelin. Her favorite group is Led Zepp, and I love that.  


 Oh, another thing about Lit (which is on 2nd ave, lower east side) is that it's ALWAYS filled with colorful strangers. These two chicks were basically parked in front of the stage, making out wildly, I mean, they were the main attraction that night, much to dismay of  the ego-maniac bad breathed punk. 


 Another friend of mine ^ John was there at Lit, celebrating his birthday. He has the "I hate birthdays" look on his face and who could blame him. The chick on the right simply had a magnificent ass, so I had to snap her pic.

I will probably get my face ripped off when Jasmine sees this picture ^. Not because she is hugging my best friend Jonesy, but because she banned me from posting pics of her. But I can not help myself. I mean, I have a few cute pics of her from Christmas and Georgia and from our night out to see the Beatles cover band The Fab Faux, but this one can't be left on my Mac. I have to share it. Two of my favorite people, both of whom I would stick my hand in fire for, together in one shot. So cute. It's worth the wrath that is sure to come my way. πŸ˜‰



 MAX, from Berlin, aka Charlie Crawford and the singer of Empty Trash; runner up in German's version of American Idol (Deutschland Sucht ein Super star) came to NYC for a week of fun. No, he didn't stay with me! He is only 19 so get those naughty thoughts out of your mind. Anyways, I showed Max around a bit, as did Jasmine. He is a big star in Germany and can sing his ASS off. I wrote about him already in my Thanksgiving day blog. Click HERE to see it. 


 Eric Danville ^, managing Editor, Penthouse Forum/ Girls of Penthouse and friend of mine, was sadly mugged the night we were initially supposed to meet to sign my contract. "It happens" he said. Luckily only his arm was hurt, he could have been killed. Anyways, a week later we met at a bar called "2a" because it's on the corner 2nd street and avenue A. It's a really popular hang out for artist and people in the entertainment biz. The wine is as bad as the service BUT it is still fun. The pics above are of Eric and his boo-boo arm and me signing my contract, with Penthouse Forum. My sex column "Calling Dr. Dot" will premier in the magazine's May issue (it hit's news stands on April 14th though).  I am so happy and grateful, I won't let them down. Hell, I never let the NY Press down either, my columns were always early and entertaining, they are just unorganized and change editors as often as Lindsay Lohan does boyfriends.  Well, you know the saying, one door closes and another one opens. I was sad when the NY Press dropped my column (along with many other columns at the same time) but now I am glad it happened as writing for Penthouse Forum is way better in my eyes. 

The night I met Eric at 2a to sign my contract, the service was great. But when Tom Clark ^ isn't bar tending/working, you can fucking forget it. The other bar tenders are too busy making love to their crack-berries to notice you are drying of thirst. Meow.
Anyways, I was there before Eric. Never been in 2a before. I sat at the bar, alone, asked for a wine list. The bar tender shows me a bottle of white and a bottle of red (pretty sure they had screw on tops) and said, "here is the wine list, red or white?". I thought, what a cheeky bastard this guy is. lol. He gives me my wine and then asks "are you Dr. Dot?" 

My jaw dropped. Eh? "yes, why? How did you know that? Did Eric tell you I was meeting him here?". He says "Eric who?" then explains he recognizes me from myspace. EH? Still puzzled. I was like "wtf?". He then explains that he and I have been pen pals for almost 2 years, writing on myspace, mostly about music and my desire/obsession for Karl Geary.  Karl frequents the 2a fairly often. Tom told me on myspace 2 years ago that he sees Karl rather often "at the bar he works at" and so we started chatting about him and music etc.. anyways, to me, people look different on myspace then they do in person. Especially if you aren't looking for them. I wouldn't have put two and two together in a million years. lol. Anyhow, I felt like a dumb ass that he recognized me but I didn't him until he refreshed my memory. Guess I need to buy a few more mega bites of memory for my head. 

Behind the bar ^ …makes me laugh every time I read it.

I was asked to come to a recording studio in Weehawken, NJ to massage the band Matchbox 20. I know the sound man, Jim, for almost 15 years now. I massaged Jim in trade for him tuning up my JBL equalizer in my car. My Amp and equalizer in my trunk are so HUGE you can't really fit anything else in there. It's FUCKING LOUD and now, the sound is even more perfect than it was. Listening to music in my VW Golf is one of my favorite things to do (while driving through NYC, windows down). Anyways, the piano above ^ used to belong to John Lennon. It now belongs to the recording studio. John recorded the song 'Imagine' on that piano. I felt honored to touch it. sigh.  



 I went into some rock and roll shop in Greenwich Village and bought a SHIT LOAD of rock and roll t-shirts and all of the guys working there are from Mexico and all had really long hair and were listening to Black Metal, which apparently is "much harder than Death Metal". In fact, they tell me Death metal is just for pussies. Black Metal is the most evil music around. They have it playing really loud and as you shop for rock and roll memorabilia, you think to yourself "mmmm, so if I went to hell and turned on the radio, this is what would be playing". 


Back in Berlin I was invited to a VIP party, thrown by several press agencies, news papers etc.. It was fucking boring but the food and drinks were free and in abundance. The above girl band was playing all night. Yawn. I hate VIP parties.  



This poor bastard is getting married ^. Had to take a pic of this guy on his Stag night in Berlin. Good luck sucker.  


Above ^ Freaky (on the right) and his female companion wearing their lighted baseball hats. I have known Freaky since 1991. He is an artist, jack of all trades and really REALLY fun to watch when he sings karaoke. The words to describe him properly fail me. He calls himself Freaky, so you can just imagine I guess. 


Recently my friend "Scruff" was in Berlin and I showed him around. It was sadly gray and raining the whole time he was here but I am sure he enjoyed himself anyways. 

BIZARRE light-billboard directly across from the Estrel Hotel, where the "stars in concert" show is held. Do Berliners think that Beastiality is ok? I mean, if this was on display in Boston, I doubt it would go over well. Weirdos!!

I brought  Scruff to see "Stars in Concert" which is a show that has been going on in Berlin for almost 10 years. It's all made up of celebrity impersonators. The man who plays Elvis, Grahm, is from Dublin and is one of the worlds best Elvis impersonators and a buddy of mine. He used to do it in Vegas for years, but wanted a change and moved to Berlin. He invited us and paid for everything. The whole experience was amazing but Elvis was by far the best part of the show (The Blues Brothers were pretty good too). It was funny how "Elvis" came out to our table after his part of the show was over (he was in normal clothing) and still had all of his Elvis make up on, as he had to still do an encore. Elvis buying us drinks. Nice.


I fly to France next week, will be there for about 30 hours, then I fly to Rome, stay a few days, then go to Florence. Looking so forward to enjoying Italy again. Ciao Bella

Getting your tonsils removed is absolute HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Walked into the Hospital this morning at 5:30am, as planned and the man at the front desk started speaking to me in Spanish. After he realized I don't speak Spanish, he said "oh, you speak English instead?".  That's how it is here in the USA now. They speak first to you in Spanish or ask you in Spanish,  to "push 1 for Spanish", then 2 for English. I just thought that was amusing.

I was told I had to wait until 11am until I was to go under the knife. I didn't sleep the night before, so I was up for around 24 hours. Bored and pissed off that my thirst was driving me mad. You have to stop, as I said before, by midnight the night before, so now I had to wait until 11am. Then I was given an IV (hate being pricked with needles) and wheeled down to another waiting room. Finally the Doctor walks in, surrounded by nurses and tells me "wow, you have GREAT skin". I also found that odd. This made me even more nervous, thinking, is he ok? He said he has already done 8 tonsil removals that morning. Last thing I remember was hearing "we are putting some medicine into your IV to make you relax". The anesthesiologist was great; I didn't vomit like I usually do after being put under.


Woke up FREEZING, like you do and by the way, why do they wake us up? I was in the deepest sleep, didn't notice any pain until I heard "are you sleep!??" from a tiny group of Latino scrubs (people who work in the operating room). I WAS sleeping, now I am awake and realize that I am in FUCKING PAIN. I told you last blog how tough I am. Guess I lied. I can barely swallow water. It KILLS to sip cold water. DYIN' HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Food is the last thing on my mind. I never want to eat again. Thank GOD I ate two pints of Haagen Daas last night before my midnight cut off point. As I can imagine it will be a few days before I can get even some sorbet down my pie hole. Speaking of my pie hole, I just photographed it, it will probably disgust you, but this is a case of misery loves company. If I have to suffer, why shouldn't you? Ow! FUCKING OW!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am a wimp, this is killing me, I just wanna fucking die!

Will update you on the agony when I get a chance. I wish people would stop telling me to eat ice cream. ANY diary products are bad for a tonsil recovery. It sticks to the throat, creates mucus and prevents healing. It's all about sorbet, Italian Ice as they call it over here. Ice Cream with out ANY milk in it. I have some jars of baby food lined up too, mashed apples, pears, etc.. Catherine, my assistant and friend will be here tomorrow to baby me (I even bought a Pooh Bear bib πŸ™‚


I wanted to film the Tonsil operation, but they were "not amused" at the idea.

Here is the ugly truth that is happening in my big abrasive mouth:

 That picture even makes me want to hurl. NASTY.