It’s Over, Johnny.

In lieu of kissing someone at midnight on tonight, throat punch them instead. Let’s send a message to 2020 we’re done taking this shit.

And with that, both my year and my vacation are over. I fly back to LA today. It always goes way too fast, my time in New York. Perhaps that’s a positive thing. I very much enjoyed it.

And remember: if you just got invited to do something today, on New Year's Eve, it means someone else cancelled. Just saying.

In My Tummy.

They say if you love something you should set it free, but I didn’t think this pastrami sandwich would come back to me, so I just ate it.

Second to last day here. It’s gone quickly, but I leave with the satisfaction of being fatter than when I arrived.  

We Interrupt This Holiday.

My dad’s favorite part of vacation was to make us all feel bad for sleeping in.

It didn’t stick. I may wake up at 5:15 a.m. all year long, but when I’m in New York for Christmas, I make it all back up in 12-hour shifts.

Or so I thought, this week. I suddenly had an unexpected audition for a film on Christmas Eve. 11 pages of dialogue. Sleep be damned.

I put together a makeshift audition room in my mom’s office, removing paintings, moving a desk and cabinets, and used an A-frame ladder as a tripod. I went with natural light, and I must say it looked damn good, considering.

Then I had my friend Chuck, a New York actor who has had roles on “The Sopranos” and “Ray Donovan” run my iPhone camera and read lines opposite me. Chuck, I owe you forever.

I was really happy with my performance, sent it off, and then took a well-earned nap. Recommence showbiz vacation.

My Caddy.

Ask me which club I prefer, and my answer will always be “turkey,” but it is Christmas tradition that Ollie and I hit the links by our house Christmas day.

Also tradition: Ollie’s “hole in one” gag. Never gets old.

Wishing You All The Best Pitmas Ever.

Love,
My nephew, Santa, Ricky and me

Eat, Eat, And Be Merry. And Eat.

Why is fried chicken the only food we can buy by the bucket?

My mom and I made our traditional trip to Stew Leonard’s to stock up on provisions, and it’s amazing that after all these years, they are at the very top of their game. Who could have imagined busting up cannoli shells and serving them with dipping cream? Stew!

No tummy is complete without them.

Flight. For The WIN.

Forget Mardi Gras, or Carnival, or running with the bulls – a still-empty overheard compartment after everyone has boarded is the ultimate once-in-a-lifetime sighting.

I had the pleasure of sitting behind the Bickersons on the flight – a wife who yelled at her husband because he didn’t think to take off his headphones and tend to her high-maintenance, skittish needs during some turbulence. Their young daughter was no surprise a loud brat. DON’T BE THAT COUPLE.

But I’m here, in New York, where it’s nice and chilly and I can turn my brain off for ten days. I slept 12 hours last night. Thanks, Santa.