I’m not a star.

Las Vegas.

The city of lost wages – which explains why the local pawn shops stock Civil War paraphernalia and Picasso originals. On every flight to Vegas on Jet Blue, I usually make the most of the in flight entertainment while watching the History Channel. History buff? Maybe. I am more of a fan of reality shows based on dysfunctional family run businesses.

Pawn Stars is just that. Three generations of pawn shop politics and the occasional comic relief. While hanging with the homie Jon Buscemi, I learned that we were both fans of the show and decided to take a field trip down to the shop. Burn Rubber Rick rode shot gun to witness what happens when we are bored.

What did we learn? Lets see…

1. It was a 35 dollar cab ride there and a 17 dollar cab ride back. Same distance.
2. Gregy’s custom Gourmet pendant which is worth a pretty penny isn’t worth much in the house that “The Old Man” built.
3. The definition of random lies beneath the glass counters of a pawn shop.
4. The chewing tobacco spitting, Nascar hat wearing cowboy behind the pawn counter is a DICK.

The Goods

A line behind a velvet rope to get in

Can’t stop the profit

Apparently a ceramic double wolf head statue is worth something to someone

Jon will sniff out a pair of rare frames anywhere. He hangs out at Lasik surgery centers to collect the glasses patients won’t be needing anymore

I don’t think MLK dreamt that a bust of his head would be behind the counter at a pawn shop

Rick looks like Large Professor

Yeah Jon, I know we wasted our time.

Oh yeah…

Some randoms…


Vlad from Hall of Fame in Los Angeles and Vans Vault and Chris from Vans Vault came by to check out the shop and hang for a few.


Chris loves Margaritas (especially in bulk) and Vlad hates Mexican Food, unorganized women and wearing socks that aren’t the same brand as the kicks he got on.  Other than that he is pretty normal.


You know this guy. Maestro travels with a back pack that weighs as much as me. Considering I eat a lot of Spanish food, that could be a heavy load.


Time is money— and so is this 1950 Panerai Luminor. Worth? A brand new SUV with all the bells and whistles.


I love babies. Especially when they don’t have my last name.


This is what I see on the daily


This guy right here has earned a desk in my fortress of solitude— and a spot on my site. CLICK HERE for his hi jinx.


Fresh would like Deon’s sweater more if it was gray.  Why do we know that? Because he made sure to tell us.

Have to drink more water… Dr’s orders

All in a days work.

Friday’s random images courtesy of the “Big H”.

Finishing up New Balance collaboration for fall 2010

While at New Balance, I had the pleasure of checking out some vintage equipment.

Walking through Harvard Yard I spotted a Puerto Rican flag in a dorm window. Palante, Siempre Palante! (5 minutes later I was escorted off the property by the Harvard Police Department).

Hanging with my muthafucka Fresh. I use the word muthafucka as a term of endearment.

At Concepts we have balls.

Nuff Said.

Maserati Lust

Any man that claims to fully understand women is full of shit. Women are like Apple products– ever evolving, better, faster, stronger, smarter with each generation. Right when you think you have it under control— a new upgrade kicks in and it’s time to relearn what you thought you knew.

I park in a garage near Concepts everyday and each day I walk by this Maserati on the way out. No matter what time I get there or leave– it’s there. I just assumed the driver had to put in some major hours at work to pay for this beautiful Italian.

By the look of the layers of dust on this bad boy, it seems it doesn’t move much.

That didn’t deter Luisa who left a little note under the wind shield wiper.

She has caught a case of “Maserati Lust”.

Luisa Facts:

-Doesn’t know who drives the car.
-Doesn’t know what he looks like (or if the owner is even a he).
-Doesn’t care how she comes off by leaving this sexual invite (what else the number for? To talk foreign luxury automobiles?)
-AND, the car looks damn near abandoned and she still felt the need to drop a note.

**Side bar: I’m no psychic but Luisa might not be hot at all. I’m just saying.

You might think it’s foul I posted the phone number— but come on, she left it in a busy garage.

Give her a call if your car game is up.

Your welcome very much.



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