crypto. sunday. got to.

December 2, 2020 Posted by the writer

Namaste visitors…

Every Sunday I’m going to pop in here. I’m sorry for talking shit about when I’ll be around.

My life has been here for over 10 years and I’m transient… to put it simple.

Simple isn’t something I really speak…

I wish I could boil and package all the things I haven’t said in a blahg and catch everyone up.

… but I also love being an absolute secret. It’s taken about five years to establish myself as that.

I reckon I’ve done alright…

After so much drama. More growth than words can say, I’m popping.

The only thing I wanted to do with this webpage was be honest. So I shut my mouth when I got to the point of not wanting to say anything.

It’s why I don’t really maintain any active socials.

It’s why I live on a big bad rock in the south pacific with a few other million heads.

Opposed to over 330 million USA kids.

… are you still “following”?

Lately I’m thinking about the puppies mainly… I’d like to find a co-host for my podcast.

I drank beer with a stranger before and danced in my back yard earlier.

I started beefing out a wallet because I finally took the time to start playing with cryptocurrency. Shame on me for taking so long…

I wrote blue gel ink poems and cried because Fronkles needed unexpected ear surgery which thankfully turned out alright.

I’m going to promise Sundays to these parts. I held myself in an anal regard of every day posts for years and, frankly, I struggled adjusting outside of that.

So let’s agree to Sunday.

Slowly but Sunday, I can bring us all back to my life. I’m starting to peek my head out of a hole to say Hi again.

… the story is nothing like you ever thought.

Love. Love.

… love.

and a microphone

November 13, 2020 Posted by the writer

It’s time to podcast blahg tribe…

After over ten years of blahging, I’ve been on a search for a different way to connect with the outside world.

While I’m an easily sociable creature, a lifetime of being a Writer paired with three divorces from insane dropkicks has sent me somewhat inwards.

Particularly over the past three or four years…

And I’ve loved every moment.

That said, there is something sacred about connection. During it’s prime when FollowMeToNYC was banking four social media accounts and being updated every day, there was a period of time where I really felt like I built something.

I’ve said it a million times, satisfaction to me as a Writer has nothing to do with selling stories, it comes when I connect people through my favourite art… when my woven words create conversations and covens.

That makes me happy.

And let’s not forget, when I was busting out of teen-dom into adulthood during college, refusing to take a single writing course during my undergrad degree because no one was going to teach me what I was born to do… I did radio.

I love radio.

As years blow by and the world changes around me, radio is now podcasting… and podcasts have uniquely embedded themselves in so many people’s lives.

I ordered my microphone yesterday. I’m kind of peeing my pants about it all. New project time. New public project, I should say. I’m always shuffling and hustling behind the scenes, it’s been awhile since I really reached out into inter-web land.

There will be websites and social profiles, weekly chats and an exciting start to completely unexplored territory.

More on all of that soon…

i’m out here glitchin

November 8, 2020 Posted by the writer

… but my screen won’t load


in New York i millie rock

November 8, 2020 Posted by the writer

hide it in my sock

and i’m on da block


Nick Snider is not an asshole

October 23, 2020 Posted by the writer

Nick Snider really wants to be an asshole.

I understand for me to even mention that name makes no sense, and I couldn’t agree more. I have no idea who that is.

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    FollowMeToNYC is a creative processing ground which expresses individual ideas that often change with the tides. Naturally, these ideas do not reflect those of any of my employers, or anyone else you might see me wandering down the street with one day.
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