Memoirs of a Mike Allen

A series of images I take some with clothes, others without. I hope you enjoy.

Worst Date Ever. (Most Taurus Women Useless)

Tonight was by far the worse date of my life. I met this girl randomly one night and she told me had a BF when I asked her out… Less then a week later..I’m end up running into her on the tracks of the 6 train. I recognized her by her black leather boots, thin long legs, and perfect shaped rear. I walk up to her…and go Hey! Taurus! I didn’t remember her name…just her sign. We talk on the track for about ten minutes as train was delayed, and then on the train for a bit longer. Before she gets off she says, You know what, I should have given you my number last week let me give it to you now. Turns out she didn’t’ actually have a BF. So during course of the next few days I keep running into her randomly. We ended up saying its fate that we go out. So we finally met up tonight at 10 at this wine bar. It’s pretty much me filling in the awkward quiet moments because she doesn’t have anything interesting to say. Typical Taurus girl…only dates older men with money….brings NOTHING of value to the table except youth and flexibility. I basically sum her up within 5 minutes…though I try and give her the benefit of the doubt by asking questions of her past and what made her happy. Now its 1am and I have 3 hrs of my life I’ll never get back. So I end the date outside after I settle the bill and tell her that she is the most boring date/person I’ve met in my life. That she has many years of self discovery ahead of her…and that maybe…at 33 she’d be an interesting person..but at 24 she isn’t. She looked shocked but couldn’t argue or say anything in defense….she looked like a puppy dog who’d just peed on the carpet and knew of their wrong doing. Oh well. Just erased her from my iPhone. Good Riddance.

Being Punched in Da Club

As a rule, I tend to stay away from Russian women.  No matter how beautiful and alluring they are from a physical standpoint, the rough accents, lack of connection and understanding of my humor make them near useless in my book. 

This past weekend, I attended a club promoters pre-party.  I was forced into a shot fest…and ended up talking to this Russian Girl with BIG steely blue eyes that didn’t look Russian….more midwest blonde…until she of course opened up her mouth.  She was a spunky girl, playing aloof for most of our initial interactions.   For that evening alone, she was my sparkle pony.  She wore this glittery sequin top and jeans that should have been thrown out long ago…or given to a frumpy mommy to wear.

I did end up kissing her briefly on this random bed as she was laying there beckoning me with a finger to come.  As I neared her, the smell of smoke on her breath kind of killed the whole experience.   I tried to focus on the positives and just stared at her blue eyes in my inebriated state and let time pass until I could make a quick escape and head to club solo…blonde-less and happy.

I spend most of the night avoiding the blond Russian who at random moments would rest her head on my chest and get super affectionate on me.  At one point I spotted a Swedish delight with long slender legs and gazelle on over.  I converse with her awhile, show her some of my art work, talk about her life, and at point point as this all goes down I feel someone punching my lower back. I immediately figure its the crazy Russian but ignore it as though nothing at all had happened.  1, 2, 3 more punches and finally an arm gets wrapped around me from the side as the Russian drapes her body on me while I pretend as though its totally normal to have a girl draped on your body that isn’t part of the conversation.

Finally after not paying attention to Russian she loses her grip and disappears into the dance floor.   This was a good reminder of why I stay away from Russians.

New York

I left LA…

For a better life.

These will be my stories.  Gazelle Stories.

Oprah

I had the most intense random exciting adventure driven dream last night. Oddly enough.  Oprah was in it.  I met her here in LA.  At this point, I’m 2 hrs up since dreaming such vivid things.  Oprah had highered a personal trainer…and somehow..magically ended up having the body of a perfect ripped 23 year old model.  She was super cool laidback…and we ended up talking at perhaps it was intellengentsia on Abbot Kinney.  I told her I had this Vision of shooting her with BW film.  I wanted to do something that had never been done with her photographically….  A throw back to 50’s 60’s fashion and decor.    She was excited about it…and we ended up getting in a black SUV that took us to LAX.  She flew us to NYC…(though in my mind..it was a different NYC….)  She lived in a house that was once a big commercial space…that had a rotating door to get in … it was super fast..and you’d have to time it super perfectly to jump in and out. When you came in…there was a elementary school to the left…and to the right another door that took you to this massive modern space….which was Oprahs home.  You overlooked a perfect space of green that went for miles….and in the distance you saw crazy old homes…that looked like ancient factories….each home giant and grand in its own special way.  The facades of each like the fuselages of fallen rusted aircraft.   I ended up having my own insane room with a wall covered in giant LCD panels…and a  computer that I could work on.  FB ended up showing up on all the screens at once…   I somehow booked a flight back to LA - grabbed my cameras…and film…told a friend about my adventure and what was going on only to be told I was a Liar.  I went back to NYC that night and met up with Oprah again. We had Thai food… and spoke of photo shoots, fashion, dreams of mine…and what she felt she was missing in her life..needed to do next.  She apparently was launching a new TV show…  And on it…she was going to give away a Mike Allen Portrait session to some lucky person on the show…..she was excited about it…as was I.   I then met up with Dave Mathews…who was in NYC at same time…and we gazelled around…  I ended up just bringing blondes to our table and leaving them with him as I continued doing laps in this seemingly endless space at this Bar lounge space.   I can’t really remember the rest of the dream other then NYC seeming like this magic place.  Oh Oprah. Hah.  How did you end up in my dream?

Being Punched in Da Club

As a rule, I tend to stay away from Russian women.  No matter how beautiful and alluring they are from a physical standpoints, the rough accents, lack of connection and understanding of my humor make them near useless in my book. 

This past weekend, I attended a club promoters pre-party…was forced into a shot fest…and ended up talking to this Russian Girl with BIG steely blue eyes that didn’t look Russian….more midwest blonde…until she of course opened up her mouth.  She played aloof and was actually quite rambunctious and quick witted…  For that moment…she was my sparkle pony.  She wore a shiny top, and jeans that should have been thrown out long ago…   

I did end up kissing her briefly on this random bed as she was laying there beckoning me to come…and the smell of smoke on her breath kind of killed the whole moment.  Her lack of yoga butt also kind of ruined the experience…so I just stared at her blue eyes in my inebriated state and passed time and I jumped away to go with my friend to Colony.  I didn’t go with the masses via limo transport…but with my buddy.  Fast forward to almost end of where I constantly avoid Russian girl who keeps trying to rest her head on my chest and being all lovey…and I spy a Swedish delight with long long slender legs and gazelle over. I converse with her awhile, show her my photographs, talk to her about her life, and as this is going on I feel a punch in my lower back.  Without turning around I pretty much know what is going on so I ignore it and continue to talk to Swede. 1, 2, 3 more punches and finally an arm wrapped around me from the side as the Russian Girl drapes on my body…I do a great job of not reacting and because I hold such intense eye contact Swede barely notices. Russian eventually lets go and disappears into the dance area.    Never again will break my no Russian rule, they are insane!!!!!!   - Gazelle Out

Sometimes people need to be saved from bad dates

I was at Palihouse two weeks back with friends Dave Mathews and Rob Meadows. We were posted across from the giant Polaroid Wall enjoying a bottle of pinot when we noticed this cute blonde sit down on this plush lounge chair with this dark haired gentleman. We immediately noticed the disparity of attractiveness between them and later upon second glance a bored look on her face and this weird awkward energy between them. Dave ended up locking eyes with her for longer then would be expected had she been on a happy date. We laughed about it and as soon as the man had gotten up Dave told me to sit down next to her and talk to her. I did, telling her my thoughts and observations regarding the awkward exchange between her and the man…to which she laughed and agreed that the date was less ideal. I got her number and email address using the classic we should shoot pictures soon line which I have in recent times not used anymore to get phone numbers as being direct has been a better plan of attack. Within a few seconds of my return to our observation table the dark haired man had returned… We didn’t know it at the time but he had an overactive bladder and had to relieve himself every 20-30 minutes. Each time he left a new one of us would sit next to her, make her laugh, play with her hair…and push whatever boundaries we could while he relieved himself. Finally it was Rob’s turn to sit next to her when he left…and he stayed longer then all of us.. Eventually the man came back as Rob sat cozy next to her and when he said something Rob replied, oh we were just catching up….while Dave and I tried to stifle our intense laughter. We eventually left her there with her horrible date though feeling good about the excitement we brought into her life each time he left to urinate. Perhaps the blonde Gemini will cross paths with us again.