COLLECTION: Mr Sparklepants
I like to think everything I do alters the ecosystem now....
I guess before we go any further I should explain. As much as I’d like to say I’m about kind of rogue luger, or about to have the safest sex the world has ever known, the truth is far less interesting. I call this thing my mono-tard but I think it’s proper name is solotard. I bought it for a comedic dance performance I put on when my good friend Christina Putzinski was running a stand-up night in LA. The thing is, we’d always planned on going to the city’s trendiest night-clubs in it, just to get in fights with bouncers. We figured it’d go down like this:
“Sir, I’m sorry, I’m not going to be able to let you in…”
“What, why? Oh, it’s the suit isn’t it. Listen I just got into town and they lost my luggage. This is what I fly in. Come on, I’d totally change if I could, but I don’t have anything to change into. Look, cant you just let me in for a minute—all of my friends are in there—I’m pocketless, without cell phone, I can’t even call them… what’s the big deal?”
You get the idea.
But I wasn’t actually sure I’d have the nerve. I mean, could I really? Would I really? Should I really? I’ve got a trip out west coming up… I’d figured I’d probably better test my tolerance in the thing first.
I’m not going to lie, I was more than a little uncomfortable at times. And not physically—the thing fits like a glove, it feels great.
I was nervous.
But other times I felt tough. Superhero tough.
This is my friend Kiwi. She’s the one taking the pictures (pretty much all but this one). Strangely enough, while women would check me out from head to toe, men pretty much went straight for the package. For some reason though, she wasn’t able to document the phenomenon…
… so she documented the phenomenon.
Anyway, Ginatown had no love, so we headed uptown.
My dad called about family business. (That sounds badass, really though, he just wanted help designing the cards for his latest show—he’s a painter.)
I’ve always got time for family.
And to get my handsome on.
Check out that ass.
Yeah, there was love from the ladies uptown…
…but it was the Naked Cowboy I was after. I thought maybe we’d have some kind of naked showdown or something. I don’t know.
I went to his corner, but someone must’ve tipped him off.
“Where you at Cowboy? Hiding from naked indians?”
I can be intimidating when I want to be.
What’s up?
I felt like a superhero when I ran… all I needed was a crime to fight. I’d like to see somebody gank my wallet now.
Yeah, a naked superhero—kind of—I’d stolen the cowboy’s corner—kind of.
It was a hollow victory though, what's with him not showing and all. If he did though, I was ready…
For lunch. Step one: Getting dressed. Notice you never see Superman eating, only Clark Kent. Same rules apply.
Just before we found a place to eat though, we spotted someone…
Look at me, all talk, but when push comes to shove, I…
…I…
…well, I started to get naked. But then, he’s all, “What’s that about?” But it wasn’t just a question, like “What’s that about? I’m really curious.” It was more of a threat like, “What’s that about, I hope you’re not planning on stealing my corner… BITCH.”
Suddenly I realized my man bits, which were already looking small today, started morphing into lady bits. Weird.
I didn’t have the nerve for a fight. Instead I made nice.
“That dude is naked. Check it out people, this Cowboy’s got no cloths on. Take a picture. Give him a dollar.”
We had a posedown though.
Again, he was victorious.
CUT!
Anyway, I’m a bit bummed out that Kiwi wasn’t able to catch people’s reactions. They were great, but now you know. Be on alert LA. And for the rest of you, when you see me out, be warned. I just might have the thing on underneath and I might just take off what’s overtop. Funerals, boardrooms, whatever, it’s never the wrong time.
In all seriousness, in my family someone always “plays Santa” on Christmas time (distributes the gift from under the tree so everyone gets one before anyone starts opening theirs… then we go in for round 2, etc.). When it was my turn I wore this thing. My grandma was amused, so, like I said, no time is the wrong time.
Some last little notes though: Check out the Polaroids section of jakebronstein.com. In the next day or so I’ll be putting up tons more fun pictures there. You’ve just got to push forward through all the old stuff to get there.
Also, about the archives; I couldn’t figure it out. So I gave up. As you may have noticed, there now are no archive buttons. But if you click on a past post, a few more titles should come up for you to choose from (for some reason it only shows a couple at a time, but you can still get to everything. They’re all there). Oh, and if you have no idea what I’m talking about, it’s cause the buttons in questions, which are meant to be on at the top right-hand side of your screen, appear at the very bottom right in some programs. Cool. See you in a few…
I guess before we go any further I should explain. As much as I’d like to say I’m about kind of rogue luger, or about to have the safest sex the world has ever known, the truth is far less interesting. I call this thing my mono-tard but I think it’s proper name is solotard. I bought it for a comedic dance performance I put on when my good friend Christina Putzinski was running a stand-up night in LA. The thing is, we’d always planned on going to the city’s trendiest night-clubs in it, just to get in fights with bouncers. We figured it’d go down like this:
“Sir, I’m sorry, I’m not going to be able to let you in…”
“What, why? Oh, it’s the suit isn’t it. Listen I just got into town and they lost my luggage. This is what I fly in. Come on, I’d totally change if I could, but I don’t have anything to change into. Look, cant you just let me in for a minute—all of my friends are in there—I’m pocketless, without cell phone, I can’t even call them… what’s the big deal?”
You get the idea.
But I wasn’t actually sure I’d have the nerve. I mean, could I really? Would I really? Should I really? I’ve got a trip out west coming up… I’d figured I’d probably better test my tolerance in the thing first.
I’m not going to lie, I was more than a little uncomfortable at times. And not physically—the thing fits like a glove, it feels great.
I was nervous.
But other times I felt tough. Superhero tough.
This is my friend Kiwi. She’s the one taking the pictures (pretty much all but this one). Strangely enough, while women would check me out from head to toe, men pretty much went straight for the package. For some reason though, she wasn’t able to document the phenomenon…
… so she documented the phenomenon.
Anyway, Ginatown had no love, so we headed uptown.
My dad called about family business. (That sounds badass, really though, he just wanted help designing the cards for his latest show—he’s a painter.)
I’ve always got time for family.
And to get my handsome on.
Check out that ass.
Yeah, there was love from the ladies uptown…
…but it was the Naked Cowboy I was after. I thought maybe we’d have some kind of naked showdown or something. I don’t know.
I went to his corner, but someone must’ve tipped him off.
“Where you at Cowboy? Hiding from naked indians?”
I can be intimidating when I want to be.
What’s up?
I felt like a superhero when I ran… all I needed was a crime to fight. I’d like to see somebody gank my wallet now.
Yeah, a naked superhero—kind of—I’d stolen the cowboy’s corner—kind of.
It was a hollow victory though, what's with him not showing and all. If he did though, I was ready…
For lunch. Step one: Getting dressed. Notice you never see Superman eating, only Clark Kent. Same rules apply.
Just before we found a place to eat though, we spotted someone…
Look at me, all talk, but when push comes to shove, I…
…I…
…well, I started to get naked. But then, he’s all, “What’s that about?” But it wasn’t just a question, like “What’s that about? I’m really curious.” It was more of a threat like, “What’s that about, I hope you’re not planning on stealing my corner… BITCH.”
Suddenly I realized my man bits, which were already looking small today, started morphing into lady bits. Weird.
I didn’t have the nerve for a fight. Instead I made nice.
“That dude is naked. Check it out people, this Cowboy’s got no cloths on. Take a picture. Give him a dollar.”
We had a posedown though.
Again, he was victorious.
CUT!
Anyway, I’m a bit bummed out that Kiwi wasn’t able to catch people’s reactions. They were great, but now you know. Be on alert LA. And for the rest of you, when you see me out, be warned. I just might have the thing on underneath and I might just take off what’s overtop. Funerals, boardrooms, whatever, it’s never the wrong time.
In all seriousness, in my family someone always “plays Santa” on Christmas time (distributes the gift from under the tree so everyone gets one before anyone starts opening theirs… then we go in for round 2, etc.). When it was my turn I wore this thing. My grandma was amused, so, like I said, no time is the wrong time.
Some last little notes though: Check out the Polaroids section of jakebronstein.com. In the next day or so I’ll be putting up tons more fun pictures there. You’ve just got to push forward through all the old stuff to get there.
Also, about the archives; I couldn’t figure it out. So I gave up. As you may have noticed, there now are no archive buttons. But if you click on a past post, a few more titles should come up for you to choose from (for some reason it only shows a couple at a time, but you can still get to everything. They’re all there). Oh, and if you have no idea what I’m talking about, it’s cause the buttons in questions, which are meant to be on at the top right-hand side of your screen, appear at the very bottom right in some programs. Cool. See you in a few…
posted by Jakehimself at 8:55 PM
101 comments
