The Power Players Club threw a bash for the Salahis the other night at District Nightclub in DC. We were tempted to crash the party, but found ourselves on the list for the party (big thanks goes out to Ali and KAC from Power Players Club).
As soon as we got there, we headed over to the stars of the night Michaele and Tariq Salahi. We obviously took pictures with Michaele, I should've worn a tux--would've worked better with the whole crashing the party thing. And if I could've done it all over again, I would've placed her hand on my chest.
I chatted with Michaele for a little and then told her that she should start going to these galas in t-shirts. She asked which shirt she should wear, and I told her: "I crashed the White House State Dinner... and all I got was this lousy t-shirt."
Tariq and Michaele loved it--they were super nice and had a good sense of humor.
Here's why: Last night I attended a fashion event in Washington DC for Luke's Wings. The event was fantastic and money was raised for a great cause. The location reminded me of our Warehouse Party.
Anyways, I was wearing the Tans&Hot Tubs& Fist Pumps& House Music& Blowouts& Hair Gel& Poofs V neck shirt. I've never been photographed so much before in my life. I felt like Paris Hilton. I empathize with her a little bit now. Paris, if your reading this, me and you, were not so different. Next time you're in DC, hit me up.
In celebration of Michael Jackson's 51st birthday, my roommates and I are throwing a "Michael Jackson Birthday Bash." We sent out the invite over a month ago to ensure that there's going to be no excuses. It'll be the best party ever thrown at the Taft Suite.
My brother, AKA DJ Shnooms, got me the entire catalog of Michael Jackson songs--all 450 of them. Everything from the Jackson 5 to the Jacksons to his solo years. I've got the pleasure of listening to it now and separating it into playlists. I'll post the playlist for you when I'm done.
There's so much awesome Michael that most people didn't even know exists. This party is going to be full of, "Michael Jackson sings that song."
Everyone's getting excited for their outfits. Marielle will be creating a whole new wardrobe--she's picking up some penny loafers, big white socks--and sprinkling them with some glitter--Black short pants, a white MJ shirt, and a fedora on top.
We've even got Alex Feder, of the XYZ affair, coming down from the Big NYC.
Once or twice a year my apartment complex slips the dreaded "Apartment inspection" note under our door. We usually have Seven days to prepare our house for inspection.
It's not the college dorm room inspection--where they're looking for drugs, alcohol, and toaster ovens. This is the next version--they look for cats, dogs, and BBQ grills. We've got the latter.
It's a huge BBQ, like 4 Ft high, 6 Ft wide and 3 Ft wide. So its a real work of art hiding this thing. To successfully hide it from the authorities, we turned to the best. We took notes from Elliot, who hid E.T. in a closet filled with trinkets and blankets. We got very creative with our disguise--starting off with a blanket to fully cover the monster. Then we added two duffel bags flanking the grill, a 37" TV box, a fold up mattress, golf clubs, and silverware. The goal is to make the closet look like such a mess that no one in their right mind would enter into the room. When everything was finished, we sprinkling dirty laundry on top of everything--a few socks and underwear--to really add to the exhibit.
And to top it off, we made sure my bed was real nice and messy which really enhanced the overall image.
As it turns out, my roommate Eddie is good friends with the inspection dude. So the guy knocked on the door, asked if we were housing pets, we answered no, and he went on his way.
One day a week, I work from my apartment instead of the Crooked Monkey offices. These days turn into mini staycations--I get to explore parts of DC, have meetings at new restaurants, and get lost in the streets of Washington DC.
It breathes inspiration into our funny and graphic t-shirts. If you're all about DC staycations, check out KstreetKate's blog--she's about to drop some knowledge on the topic.
Since news broke of Michael's passing I have been teary eyed and at a loss for words. I never got to see him in concert but watched him on TV whenever I got a chance. I did have the pleasure of videotaping his Madison Square Garden Concert, and watching it over and over again. I put my favorite video of his below, Smooth Criminal.
He loved his fans more than anything else in the world. That kind of mutual love--between an icon and his fans--is so rare. But now we are left to mourn alone.
He was planning a huge concert series in London. Turns out he was just practicing for his debut with God.
Hilary had to come into work late today because her house was toilet papered and Egged. To make things worse, it was pouring while she cleaned up the mess. As you can imagine, she wasn't very happy this morning. But we want to turn that frown upside down.
We're going to start a fund to purchase eggs and toilet paper so she can retaliate against the perpetrators. 10% of the sale of t-shirts for the next 2 hours will go to a special Intern fund! And our Father's Day coupon is still up (Promo code: "Father") so go help a good cause--Crooked Monkey Rules.
Helping the economy. Gettin DC outta this recession
Having a car in the city is a huge liability. Parking tickets, speeding tickets, accidents, and scratches are just some of the reasons that you might want to think twice about owning a car in DC. In the first 12 months that I lived in DC, I got none of those. In the last 3 months I've hit for the cycle--multiple times. Oh how my fortunes have changed.
I'd like to explore DC's main source of income: parking tickets. Knowing their joy in handing out tickets, I have become very cautious when parking my car. I carefully read and reread all the posted signs--I walk 30 ft in each direction to make sure that I'm not missing any phantom signs.
The other day I parked my car, for less than 24 hours, in a legal spot and then got a ticket for a temporary sign that was put up after I had already parked. That cannot be legal. Last night I parked in a spot that had been legal for the last 12 months. But a couple of weeks ago someone added a homemade arrow to the "No parking sign" that originally only pointed to the right--now it also pointed to the left (if you click the picture above, you'll see what i'm talking about). It was a questionable spot, so I looked at the other two signs (pictured below) to see if they corroborated this new restriction.They did not--according to the other two signs my spot was still 100% legal. So I figured the added sticker to the other sign was vandalism--or a funny practical joke. It turns out it was neither. This morning I walked to my car and saw that familiar pink slip. Under the comments for the ticket it stated that the signs were "Clearly posted." Clearly posted? No one should have to write a dissertation--weighing one restriction against another--to figure out if a parking spot is legal or not.
I was going to write about how I'm helping ease DC out of this recession. But the more I write, the more I realize that this is no joking matter. It's literally highway robbery.
I'm back. It was a trip for the ages. A little bit of business a lot of pleasure.
First day, I got in and headed straight to a meeting with Jay from Kitson Men's. It's always good to check out that store for new trends and see how our shirts are selling. V necks, V necks and more V Necks. Thats what I saw. We'll be coming out with some of our very own V necks soon. After the meeting I met up with my friend David (he will be featured in this post quite prominently) and we went out to a bonfire on the beach. We raged til midnight which doesn't sound too late, but LA closes real early, and I woke up at 4 AM that day to catch my plane.Second day was full of meetings. Met up with our showroom, our newest designer, our production manager, our LA screen printer, and one of our biggest accounts. All the meetings went better than planned. We got the biggest orders ever from that retail store, and the rest of the meetings were fantastic. At the end of the day, we made some time for the required Baywatch photoshoot in Venice Beach (above).
That night was pretty fantastic too. David and I met up with Sasa--the guy who put the Maxim party together. We went to the STK steakhouse 1 year anniversary. For those of you who were following my updates on Twitter, you'd know that I ran into Kim Kardashian (great ass), David Spade (to whom I asked, "Do you know where the weight room is?"), and Courtney Cox (still looks good).
Next day I met with the guys over at the Ryan Seacrest Show. We sat down for lunch to plan the User Generated contest we'll be doing with the Ryan Seacrest show. Details to follow.
That night the Maxim Hot 100 party went down. Some of the most gorgeous women in the world descended unto the Santa Monica Airport Hanger. And Ari Gold (Jeremy Piven), two cell phones in hand, showed up. Open Bar, Terrell Owens, Popcorn, Heidi Montag, Ferris Wheel, bottles and models. Awesome awesome night. You should've been there.I'm wearing our Coke Healthier than Crack T-shirt.
Yesterday I decided that I wanted to get to the office early, so I left my apartment at 9 AM. I was rewarded with a lot of traffic and an extra 25 minutes to my early morning commute. I learned my lesson. Today I'm still working from my apartment.
Early bird gets the worm? More like, early bird gets stuck in traffic.
I was in Miami last week and, among other things, got to see my cousin. She's a budding entrepreneur--at the age of 12 she started her first magazine. When I launched Crooked Monkey she told me she wasn't accepting any advertisers because she hated how ads take up the first 40 pages of most magazines. By the age of 14 she got smart and asked if I'd advertise.
She just recently got Adobe Illustrator, and made the above illustration. Fantastic.
If you've got any Crooked Monkey illustrations--using funny t-shirts, the monkey or our name--send them through and we'll post them.
Sometimes you don't know what you've got, til its gone. And sometimes you don't know what you've got, until you get it. I haven't gotten my deep fryer yet, but its already changed my life dramatically. Fried Chicken. Fried tofu. FUNNEL CAKE. Those are my three favorite food groups, and I don't get to eat them often enough. But now I can eat them on demand.
Well not really, cause I don't know how to cook, but I'm going to be throwing a weekly Deep Fry Party--which should solve my inability to cook problem. Who knows maybe we'll even deep fry a t-shirt and sell a limited edition shirt. We'll batter it up before of course, and sprinkle sugar on it afterward. Feel free to email in your recipes for the aforementioned delicatessens
But I had to find a way to thank Twitter for the recent celebrity sighting--Ryan Seacrest wearing our I'm not a gardener i juts like hoes t-shirt. Now Twitter resides in the coveted email signature.
Prior to this weekend, I was excited about all the crowds descending on DC. 1.8 million people--Every single one of them super excited about Obama (and the accompanying BJs for Obama). Young, good looking, fun crowds. But then I had to wait in line every where I went. The bars, clubs, lounges, restaurants, Subway, Cab lines. And that was before the inauguration even started.
Never has a t-shirt meant so much to me than during the inauguration. I could've handed out 1.8 million I don't do lines t-shirts and it wouldn't have been enough.
Living in DC, we felt it was our duty to head down to the capitol to celebrate Obama's victory. On Monday, I drove down to the Rayburn Office building to pick up our tickets for the inauguration. With all the street closings and sidewalk barricades, I knew that we had some difficult days ahead.
Monday night we brought my brother out into DC to witness History. He was wearing some raggedy shoes, jeans, and a parka that was a cross between a large tent and a moomoo. But we got him into the VIP room of one of the hottest clubs in DC, "Current." The night ended at around 4 AM rocking out on Rockband 2.Three and a half hours later our alarm went off and we set out on our journey. Armed with hand warmers, hats and gloves we mapped out our 3 mile walk to the Capitol.
It would take about an hour, in the blistering cold, but we knew Obama would do the same for us. Then we stepped outside into the freezing cold; we hailed the first cab we saw. He drove us as far as he could and we got out of the cab only to follow the crowds, in the wrong direction, for about 10 minutes. There were so many street closings and restrictions that figuring your way around DC was almost impossible. But we chose to go to the inauguration not because it was easy, but because it was hard.
We finally got to what we thought was our security gate. We weaved through the line and passed security in record timing. We were psyched. It was about 2 hours until Obama took the stage and we figured we had given ourselves enough time to get settled. We videotaped a victory speech of sorts--detailing our journey and our tribluations. The Mission was accomplished. We only needed to cross one street and we'd be at our gate. But between us and the street crossing stood hundreds of policeman on horses, metal gates and big concrete barricades. I pointed to the wall and yelled, Mr. Policeman, tear down this wall. That didn't work out too well.
If you recall, we wrote a blog about one of our customers entitled "Cause Breaking up is hard to do." It's one of my favorite blog posts about a customer, for a number of reasons, but it was also the start of our Things you can't find on google series. During that post we created our "Dumpee discount," where we offer a 15% discount to any customer who recently breaks up with his/her significant other.
I then googled "dumpee discount" and found that no one else in the history of time has ever written those two words, side-by-side. Is Crooked Monkey the only brand caring enough to help alleviate the rebounding process--i.e. promoting consumerism as a way to mask any deeper or lingering issues? It seeems so.
Anyways, that same client who broke up with her boyfriend (in the time it took her to order and then receive her shirt) wanted a refund. And because we love giving refunds to our customers of funny t-shirts, we proceeded with it.
Fast forward to today, when we are working on closing our books for 2008. We noticed that our merchant provider did not process the refund correctly--resulting in a bank error in Crooked Monkey's favor. The customer didn't notice that the refund wasn't processed, and since we never heard from her we could've simply moved on without processing the refund, in essence "fixing the glitch (see youtube video below)". But since we have a moral conscience, are not some evil corporation (like Initech), and love our customers, we mailed out a check today for the refund. It's fun to do good in this world.
Another Thanksgiving, another reunion. This year was the one-year anniversary of my high school's sixth year reunion. Amazing that it's been seven years since I stepped out of that little cocoon known as the Charles E Smith Jewish Day School.
There were 75 kids who graduated with me, and a large chunk of us are still pretty close. JDS serviced kids from Kindergarten thru 12th grade, so it's more than just a high school. It's quite amazing being able to reference obscure events in one's life--like a certain quirk of a 9th grade History teacher, a catchphrase of a first grade PE teacher, or the mysterious buldge in my 7th grade soccer coach's sweatpants--only to be countered with an equally irrelevant and esoteric event from the 3rd grade.
Last night's unofficial reunion included some of those priceless quips mixed in with lots of alcohol, pizza from our middle school days and great conversation. Not too much had changed since our days on the playgrounds of Rockville, Maryland.
When we go to tradeshows or meet boutique owners, buyers always ask where we ship from and are always surprised when we say Washington DC. The majority of t-shirt lines are based in New York City or Los Angeles. There isn't too much happening in the realm of fashion in this city, but that doesn't mean DC can't be cool once every four years.
At 11PM on November4th, CNN called the election for Obama and DC erupted. I went to a bar in Dupont Cirlce to watch the returns--girls were crying, guys were consoling, and everyone was euphoric. I headed back to my apartment to watch Obama's acceptance speech and I started getting texts from all my friends saying "To the White House." So immediately after the speech I headed to the White house with my roommates, Jon and Eddie, to meet up with thousands of others on their proverbial journey to the new White House. Our walk down 16th street was hilarious--high fives, low fives, and chants of "Bjs for Obama"--but it was quite a hike. So midway through our expedition I hailed down a car and we hitched a ride down to the White House. As you can imagine, parking was impossible to find, so as soon as they started looking for parking we looked for the exit door.And there we were, chanting and singing with the best of them at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. It felt like America had just won the superbowl. The GW paper said that some girls were giving out "Hugs for Obama," but I think the paper was just being kind because "BJs for Obama" was in full effect. What a great time to be living in the Nation's Capital.
My roommate, student doctor Edmond Ahdoot is no where to be found on google. Sure, Edmond Ahdoot, the original, and finest model for Crooked Monkey is on google. His Facebook profile is found, his article: "Studies of microsopic objects: The Micha Weinblatt chronicles" is oft-cited, and his other fine accomplishments can be researched. But what about Edmond as a doctor.
In light of our new series, Things you can't find on Google, I was a little disturbed to find out that student "Dr. Edmond Ahdoot" has yet to be discussed on google. Like always, our goal here is to give company to those lonely souls looking for the Dr. Anyone looking for student Dr. Edmond Ahdoot, will now have a home.
You'll now know that the doctor is an upstanding young gentelman, versed in Shakespear and dostoyesvky. Who DVRs a vast array of shows--from UFC championships to cooking shows. Who regularly leaves bonsues for his suite mates in the apartment--everything from chicken in the fridge to a deuce in the home office.
I haven't really gotten a chance to blog/talk about Las Vegas. Crooked Monkey Funny t-shirts took quite a large booth this time at the tradeshow out there. It was twice the size of last year's booth, and it really helped increase our Wholesale Funny t-shirt customer base. We got it into a slew of new stores and introduced our fall line. We've got a great picture of Ben wearing our I recyle boys t-shirt.
If you'll notice in that picture my tri's look pretty big. Well there's two way to grow those babies. You can either spend time in the gym or wear smaller shirts. I've chosen the latter.
Back to the topic at hand. Tipping in Las Vegas. It's such a ridiculous "custom" in Las Vegas. Every single person in the entire city expects hand outs. My brother and I played a little game where we tallied up all the tips that we were expected to give in a day. I also had a pocket in my wallet that was dedicated to tips--I figured I needed about $50 in singles a day to satiate the Las Vegas obssession with tipping. At the end of my trip I was giving bills to anyone walking within a five foot radius--lest I upset someone for not being forthcoming in offering tips.
Next year, instead of handing out tips, I'm going to hand out our "I do it for the tips" t-shirt. Maybe that'll cheer them up.
I got invited to the Washington Redskins home opener vs. The Saints today. My boy Adam, who owns fellow clothing line Be as you Are, is taking me. Nice nice nice. We usually hang out at the tradeshows, but decided it was high time to hang out in DC--considering we live about 4 blocks from each other. But that's neither here nor there.
My experiences at last years games were pretty solid--i remember the tailgates pretty vividly, but then the game's are usually a big blur. But hey, who goes to football games to watch football.
So let's go Skins. We can still go 15-1.
And enjoy my picture with some staples at FedEx Field.
Oh and in honor of today's game, I'm going to keep the 15% discount up on all funny t-shirts at Crooked Monkey funny t-shirts.
Our t-shirt, Waking up is hard to do T-shirt, is based on the song "Cause breaking up is hard to do," so it was no surprise when we got an email from one of our customers the other day asking for our return policy.
She told us that she had purchased two Crooked monkey t-shirts and needed to return them because from the time she ordered the shirts until she received them, her relationship status on Facebook went from "In a relationship" to "single."
That's not the first time that happened. The same girl that wrote and composed "I got dumped for Obama" also got dumped 3 years ago. Her name is Rachel, and she bought our "I slid into third at rachel's bat mitzvah" t-shirt. And this was in the beginning days when we didn't keep stock. It took us about 4 weeks to ship it, and by then she had been dumped (for another girl) and canceled her order.
A few valuable lessons: A)Crooked Monkey makes great gifts for boyfriends. B)When you get dumped by a boyfriend/girlfriend, come to Crooked Monkey. We now have a dumpee discount. Type in dumpee at checkout and get 15% off at checkout. But you better be able to prove that you're newly single.
Wearing not soft, un funny t-shirts is more uncomfortable than I thought
I went to a birthday party last night and I was wearing our Fat chicks, fun until your friends find out funny t-shirt. It just wasn't the right fit for the party so I had to find a replacement--fast. I threw on the first thing I found in my car--don't ask me why it wasn't a Crooked Monkey T-shirt. It was a t-shirt that my younger brother had bought me 6 or 7 years ago. I assumed that it would be soft, because it had been washed so many times.
Oh the pain, oh the discomfort. I hadn't worn a non-soft t-shirt in a while, and now I know why. It's just so uncomfortable. I highly advise anyone who doesn't own a Crooked Monkey Funny t-shirt to purchase one, because if you're walking around in a non-C monkey shirt, you're probably not wearing something soft. And for that, I pity you. I couldn't wait to get back to my car and throw on my Fat Chicks T-shirt again. I breathed a sigh of relief and went on my merry way.
Take the C Monkey challenge. Buy one of our funny shirts and try it on. If it doesn't live up to your standards of softness, return it.
Face Cream Moisturizer--gotta keep that face wrinkle free
I was at the Pool the other day at my friends apartment complex and it was turning into a beautiful sight. Weather was great, talent was fantastic, and the sun was plentiful. But just as I was laying down to get comfortable this 50 year old lady, with burnt, brown, shriveled up skin walked by me carrying floating devices and other pool accessories. I turned to the girl next to me who lives in the complex and she explained to me that that lady was a staple at the pool and part-time instructor for the morning aerobics class. I was happy to hear that she was active, but I was tempted to grab some SPF 60 and rub it all over her skin. Either that or clothe her with a Crooked Monkey Funny t-shirt
Just a few days before this incident, my ex-gf extolled the virtues of facial cream--I don't need to go into the jokes I made about providing her with some facial cream. She explained that I should be applying facial moisturizer every morning. But not just any moisturizer, but one that contains SPF 15--even in the winter. In order to keep your face young and wrinkle free, even guys must use moisturizer--or so she says. She was kind enough to purchase me a bottle of it, and even wrote on the bottle "For Men," because she knew I wouldn't use it otherwise.
After seeing that lady in the pool, I was convinced.
Today was the first morning of my new life. I'll keep you posted.
Working from Home--Funny t-shirts are much more fun
Today I "telecommuted." I had some meetings in College Park and instead of driving back to the office, I decided to work from my apartment. I just picked up a wireless keyboard and mouse so I can hook my laptop up to my 46" LCD 1080P TV (I had to drop that somewhere in this blog post) and sit back on my couch.
Running a t-shirt empire from a couch might sound easy, but it's not. I had to deal with the very tempting desire to nap, do laundry and light up the hookah. But instead I decided to stay steadfast and focus on funny shirts.
Well I did succumb to the wonders of happy hour--since I live in the city and work in the suburbs (Somewhat backwards I know), I rarely get to enjoy happy hour. And on a night like this I just had to. I just showered and am now writing this post in a towel. Ladies don't get too excited--I'm a sephardic Jew and thus was blessed with a hairy chest. Some women love it, some don't. I love the women that do love it. (That's my sister in the picture) Anywyas, that's it from funny shirt land. Cause i've got to go enjoy some margaritas at Lauriol Plaza
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The Power Players Club threw a bash for the Salahis the other night at District Nightclub in DC. We were tempted to crash the party, but found ourselves on the list for the party (big thanks goes out to Ali and KAC from Power Players Club). 
