Sunday, February 25, 2007

Pictures at an Exposition: A Comic Con Pictorial

Each year tens of thousands of socially inept geeks descend on New York as part of the cultural phenomenon known as New York Comic Con.

In my ongoing quest to provide my readers with the latest in hard hitting photo journalism, I trekked to the world renowned Jacob Javits Center. It was here that I descended deep into the shadowy realm of the comic book underworld. My quest on this outing was simple. I must get my picture taken with as many tools -I mean, as many comic enthusiasts as possible. I'm proud to say that I was able to score quite the collection. I have reviewed them all and proudly present my finest works. So please, sit back, relax and enjoy, as I present:

Pictures at an Exposition: A Comic Con Pictorial

As I began my journey to capture unique (read:odd) costumed characters, I encountered this fellow. I asked for a picture and he gladly complied. Following the picture, he says to me, "So what's happening tonight?" "Uh, nothing, just enjoying the show," I replied. "Really? Well, what're we going to do tonight? Bang some chicks? Huh? Huh? Huh?" He then started squeezing his plastic hamburger in my face. It was at this point that I ran away.

As I casually strolled the trade show floor, this little bastard ran up on me, stabbed me in the neck and said, "Who's your daddy?" While nursing my flesh wound, I informed him that I felt it inappropriate to ask people who their fathers were. This made the poor little bugger cry. I felt bad for a little bad for him, so I gave him a piggy back ride for about a half an hour. Ultimately, I think it made him feel better.

As I continued my exploration of the comic scene, I came across this little vixen. Evidently, she was recruiting for a group of Jedi's known as the 501st Legion. Well let me tell you, we really hit it off. A little bit of my suave banter and the next thing I know, she invites me back to her "space cruiser." Her "space cruiser," it turns out, was a janitorial closet, but I'm not picky. Suffice it to say she was the sweetest lover I have ever known. No, really, her head was covered in powdered sugar. But seriously, folks....

One of the incredibly cool parts about Comic Con was the opportunity to see all of your favorite superheros and meet new ones. Superheros like the one pictured here, THE REDECORATOR. His super power is the uncanny ability to match fabric swatches, paint colors, and furniture to create home decor that is OUT OF THIS WORLD!

Haven't you ever wanted to punch a stuffed creature? I know I have. I don't really care for stuffed creatures. I feel like they are close relatives of the clown family -and we all know how I feel about that. Also, I know that the person inside the stuffed suit wouldn't feel it, so really, it is kind of a victimless crime.

As I looked around, everyone seemed to be surrendering to their impulses. Why couldn't I? The temptation of my overactive inner-monologue was simply too great to resist. Without warning, I released a fiery series of reverse punches (yeah, I have those skills, I took karate in 3rd grade) focused right into the taupe target centered on his chest. The impact of these skillful, lightning reverse punches, sent this creature reeling to the floor like a flipped turtle. "I RULE!" I proclaimed. Satisfied, I moved on to play Dance, Dance Revolution: Universe.

The afternoon was progressing quite nicely and really started to feel that I had become one with those in attendance. So when it came time to approach this rather husky Jedi for a picture, I did so with certain abandon. As soon as I raised my arm to give the "thumbs up" sign, this fucker goes and burns me with his light saber. I mean really! As I write this, I'm nursing 2nd & 3rd degree burns. Perhaps most importantly, I'm nursing a serious distrust of Jedi's, and no one should ever have to go through that pain.

While I am really proud of the scope of this work, I must be entirely honest. There was an exceptionally dischevled Captain America, that I had hoped to make my piece de resistance. Despite several unsuccessful attempts to capture him, I regret to say that he eluded me. And for that, I am truly sorry. There's always next year, I suppose. Until then, live long and prosper.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Mid-Week Treat: An Ode to Dominic Carter

When people stop me in the street (and boy do they), everyone says to me, "Patrick, thank you so much for sharing your exploits and giving me the opportunity to live vicariously through you, but what do you do when you are relaxing in the evenings?"

Well again, as always, I'm glad you asked. How do I spend my evenings? Quite simply, I use this time to send fan mail to NY1's Inside City Hall host, Dominic Carter.

No, really that's what I do:

Patrick Garrigan 12/11/06
Date: Dec 11, 2006 8:24 PM
Subject: ATTN: Dominic Carter
Mailed By:

Hello Dominic,

I hope all is well. I just wanted to take a moment to thank you for
the quality job that you and your team do every night with Inside
City Hall
. It is an excellent program and I wanted you to know that I
plan my evenings around your show.

Growing up, my father was a radio journalist and he instilled in me
the importance of objective reporting. I respect the fact that you
ask the hard questions of everyone regardless of political
affiliation. It creates an intelligent dialogue on the issues of the

I have no idea of your personal politics, but have the utmost respect
for the the fact that you do not put your own spin on stories. You
rely on natural charm, analytical questions, and just let the stories
tell themselves. It is truly refreshing.

Please express my sincere thanks to all in your organization and keep
up the good work!

Best regards,
Patrick Garrigan

Patrick Garrigan
Hell's Kitchen - NYC

Unfortunately, as of the time of this writing, (about two and a half painful months after sending him my thoughtful, complimentary note) Mr. Carter has opted not to reply to my e-mail. I'm not going to lie, I'm a little hurt. But I'm sure Dominic will write back. Right Dommie? Dom? Are you there? Can you hear me?

Yeah, really, this is how I spend my evenings. Really.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

The Paparazzi Did This

Listen kids, Brit and I need you to respect our need for some privacy. The other day when my poor, dear Britney had them "trim it up close" those vicious paparazzi had the gall to asked her, "Britney, why did you do this?" To which she aptly replied, "Because of you." So simple and yet so succinct. And that is why I love her. Not only do I sympathize with her plight as a close personal friend, I empathize with her as a fellow celebrity. I have a unique understanding of the pressures that being in the public eye demands.

This past week, I had to fly out to Chicago to meet with my Belgian fans. While meeting with them, they kept talkin' in their fancy Belgian talk. I found it wholly overwhelming. "What were they saying?" "Were they talking about me?" You can only imagine how stressful that was, but that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Next I was off to DC for an appearance for MTV. Clamoring school girls, being plied with Poland Spring instead of my regular Fiji water, and lack of adequate security detail really made the trip painful. It was at this point that the pressure really started to get to me.

Upon arriving home in New York, I could see that the stress had taken its toll. I started walking the streets, slapping puppies. Now, close friends know I LOVE puppies. Why would I slap a puppy? I wouldn't. It is just another example of the crippling stress of being a celebrity. To add insult to injury I started to get sick.

The combination of stress and sickness caused me to slip further down the downward spiral -delving into drugs. Yes, each day to even function had to dope myself up with the "triple A cocktail": Airborne, Aleve and Antihistamines. I'm not proud of this fact, but sometimes when you are hurting or your nose is stuffed up you reach for whatever is close by.

Later, my drug use was paired with wild romps and trendy New York nightspots such as "The Snug" and "House of Brews" with visiting friends and dignitaries. I was spinning out of control. ..and it only got worse!

My people, who manage every element of my professional career, told me I had to be a part of some social event called "The Kolodny Bachelor Party." Before my agents could even spell out the contract to me, I was off to New Jersey playing beer pong and shooting shotguns. Yes, when firearms enter the equation you know you're in trouble. It was the final straw.

Today I have decided to step up and admit that I need to stop. The pressures of celebrity and notoriety have just been too much. So as I sit typing this, covered in Doritos crumbs, I kindly ask your patience as I bounce back from this week and the grueling costs of making the people happy.

In the meantime, I welcome your support in this tough time. I hope that I can use this time to take a nap and work to stop slapping puppies; and Britney can use this time to find a good wig. So on behalf of Brit and myself, thank you for your understanding.

FEBRURARY 20th CELEBRITY UPDATE: Good News! Britney did find a good wig!

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Verbal OCD

I've noticed more and more that I have what must be some form of verbal OCD. Like most people with musical backgrounds, I have had these same feelings about music for some time. A song will get caught in my head and I will just keep repeating the refrain over and over until another one pops into my consciousness. However, now I'm finding this to be the case with certain catch phrases too.

I feel like this might be a disease. Maybe. Perhaps. I don't really know. As regular readers already know, I make a lot of shit up. Lately, words or made up turns of phrase have dictated my verbal lexicon. On average, these little verbal ticks last about a week and then I'm on to another. Some of the latest greatest hits have included:

"The cat's pajamas" - This is the current pick of the week. I use to describe just about anything that I enjoy from rain boots to people with exceptional haircuts. I don't know what it is. Maybe it's the 30's-style jargon, like "ya got moxie kid" or "I like the cut of your jibe". Or perhaps its the idea of a cat wearing footed pajamas. Which would be pretty funny in and of itself because I do HATE cats and would like to see an unhappy cat wearing pajamas. What else do we have..

"Savvy" - I really love this word. It just gives you this sense of in-the-know, you know? Like someone who knows secrets or something. Maybe someone who works for the CIA or used to work for the CIA and could still have you killed and make it look like an accident (what?). Last week, I couldn't stop saying this word. You see, this is where the OCD kicks in: after a while, it got to the point where I was using savvy to describe things that weren't savvy at all, like peanut butter or dish soap. Luckily, cat's pajamas came along when it did.

"Run it up the flagpole and see who salutes" - I think people are funny...and ridiculous. One of my favorite pastimes as I walk the streets of this fair city is eavesdropping on other people's conversations. One of my primary targets are business people. There is an obscene amount of bullshit that business people sincerely say to one other. I find this hilarious, so one day I decided to create my own business catch phrase. Next thing I know, everything is being run up the flagpole and I'm using the expression for real. Thanks, verbal OCD.

"It's what I've got to do!"
- I have really got a good feeling about this one. It really just started late last week. Initially, it began in a genuine fit of passion as I was putting a project together, but now I feel that it might have become snagged in my verbal snare. Scenarios such as, "I'm going to go grab some coffee -IT'S WHAT I'VE GOT TO DO!" Have recently frightened friends and co-workers alike on a semi-consistent basis.

Could this be a disease or am I just simply obnoxious? Most people, will probably say I'm just obnoxious. These people are what I call "assholes" another little turn of phrase I created. In the meantime, I'm going to get on the information superhighway and do some research. Hopefully, we can get to the bottom of this little mystery of the mind.

Sunday, February 04, 2007

Celebrity Endorsement

You won't let people take pictures of you? Really?

Now, it is no secret that reality TV is leading to the cultural demise of America. (Bill O'Reilly and I are currently penning a book about this topic due out in Summer '07) But even worse than this pursuit of the lowest denominator, is the wave of F-list celebrities that these reality shows churn out.

Currently, I'm producing this project for work that involves the appearance of a certain cast member of Laguna Beach. I have watched this program a few times and thrown up in my mouth upon each viewing. I have nothing but utter contempt for shows like this one and the pseudo-celebrity they create.

For this event, our "celebrity" is being extremely well compensated for their visit. Yet, for the meet and greet, their agent has demanded that no pictures be taken of them to ensure that there is no implied endorsement of the location where this appearance is taking place.

I don't know, maybe it's just me, but if I were being paid as much as this person is being paid, I would have my picture taken with all the participants of a Tijuana donkey act. That's just the way that I roll.

You know what? I'll take that even further. If were being paid as much as this person is being paid, I would not only appear in pictures and endorse them- Hell, I'd create the whole damn ad campaign for them. For instance:

Since jetBlue is already the Official Airline of Patrick Garrigan, this product would not be difficult to endorse. Rather, it would be an honor. My only problem with jetBlue, is that they don't always play to their strengths. Seriously, they will give you as many bags of Terra Blue chips as you want. Now, I don't know if you've ever had these chips, but they are fecking delicious. People NEED to know this. I will be happy to be the messenger.

Again, I am already a fan of Banana Republic. I really like their clothes. They are cut well and don't leave me with that dirty, Eurotrash feel that H&M so frequently does. However, in this day and age of billion dollar media budgets, good clothes aren't enough. People want to feel like they're in with the "in crowd". If people only knew about the millions of Hondurans who work so hard to make these clothes, they might feel like they were a part of something larger. Something sweaty.

All you have to do is look to the wild success of rags like US Weekly, InTouch, and yes, even People to see that America can't get enough of that celebrity gossip. They're hungry for it. Insatiable! To this end, I would put out a series of defensive ads, touting the budding romance between myself and CNN's White House correspondent, Dana Bash. In addition, I would include a multi-platform approach, sending out a series of press releases via my publicist asking that the paparazzi respect our privacy. All of America would be picturing Dana and I in passionate embrace and in turn, tune in to see if Dana was "glowing" the next day. I know! I'm a genius.

Last summer ConEd suffered a lot of bad press when their street level operating panels "allegedly" electrocuted some people's dogs. I say, shit happens, but New Yorkers freaked out. So that sucks.

As always, I'm about thinking outside the box. Most companies go breaking their necks to tell you about all the things they will do. In this case, it would be just brilliant to tell New Yorkers what they won't do. So that Joe Blow on the street will look at my ad and think to himself, "Hey, they won't shock my dog -cool." 'Nuff said.

I am a whore. I will endorse anything if you will pay me. So, if you have a product that you would like me to endorse, have your people call my people.


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