April 15, 2025

Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I talk about my past.

Man, I love a good party. It’s probably why I became a bartender. I was a bartender for many years, and I guess you could say I was the host of the party. The bar was my party. I controlled the alcohol, so I guess you could say I was the host. My weapon of choice was a Long Island Iced Tea. All the clear alcohols, a splash of coke and sweet and sour mix. I also had the cab company on speed dial. It was fun. In fact, bartending inspired me to build a bar in my town house. The bar was complete with top shelf alcohol, well alcohol, and a fridge gutted to hold a keg of beer. We had beer on tap 24/7. My neighbor hated me. I think I told you this before, but they always called the cops on us. One day we had had enough, and we just happened to have a very large Roman candle in our closet. We fired the small missile at him. He dover for the ground and the whole apartment lit up with red white and blue fireworks. It’s amazing we didn’t burn the place down. Oh yeah, the cops didn’t like us either.

I’ve got lots of stories about parties, but I won’t go into it. We’d be here a long time. I’ve got stories like dancing on bars in Paris; finding open taps of beer in Antigua; parties in Japan; Man, they should donate my liver to the Smithsonian. Anyway, it was a lot of fun. Here’s a cartoon I did of a time I went to Normandy. It was a good party.

Talk to you next week. Love, B. Nice

April 8, 2025

Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I blog about my past. I’m gonna dedicate this blog to all my Australian animal friends. I’ll explain why.

One time I was at Ayers Rock (Uluru). I was touring around looking at the desert when I came over a ridge. Now, this was rather bizarre, but I was looking down a long stretch of the road. The heat was coming off of the pavement. I saw these creatures. They were about ten feet tall. They had big eyes, long faces, no arms and two legs. I thought, what the hell is this. Then I thought to myself, and I said, sarcastically, great…aliens… Well, we both starred at each other which felt like eternity. Then they ran away and I saw they had four legs and they were actually camels. You see, Australia has a large feral camel population. In fact, if you want a disease-free camel, and you’re from Saudi Arabia, go to Australia. Just a little advice.

My other favorite animal was the Wallaby. A Wallaby is a small grey kangaroo. Anyway, they used to love to watch me play tennis. They were almost human-like. They would put their hands against the chainlink fence and watch the tennis ball go back and forth. It was pretty funny. In fact, tennis was always great. We used to go to Rose Bay, the public tennis courts. There were wallabies parrots, cockatoos. The cockatoos would always laugh when I missed a shot. It was a little paradise.

Australia was always fun. The only fun animal that actually scared the shit out of me was the saltwater crockadile. My father painted a portrait of Charlie, the world’s largest saltwater croc in captivity. The thing was huge. It would just lie there in the sun like rock, but if you held a dead chicken by its tail, it would whip around. It was so fast it was scary. The main thing that my father did is actually in the art museum in the capital of Canberra Australia. My father did a life-size painting of Charlie.

There were all sorts of animals. Flocks of parrots. Giant spiders. Big snakes. I could go on and on with stories, but I’ll keep it at that. Above is a portrait I did of a wallaby at our campsite.

If you ever go to Australia, make sure you check out the animals.

Love and miss you guys. Love, B. Nice

March 25, 2025

Hi you guys. Welcome to my blog where I talk about my past. I’m gonna dedicate this blog to my angel who’s helping me with my film. I kept everything I shot and I’m putting it together for another project.

Last week I promised I’d talk to you about a wild dog that chased me on my run across America. Well, it was actually a whole bunch of dogs. You see, we were running a relay race from LA to Rochester, NY. The race was a continuous race, meaning we ran 24/7 for two weeks. It was brutal because you ran two miles as fast as you could every two hours or so. And within that two hours, you had to take your turn driving the Winebego, eating, and sleeping.

Now try doing this for over two weeks. Like I said, brutal. Anyway, one of my highlights of this relay was in Arizona. It was late at night, it was around 2 am. I was out running alone in the desert. The Winebego went down the road two miles to wait for me. Well, I heard a noise behind me. Then I heard a noise in front of me. Then I heard a noise to the right. Then I heard a noise to the left. They were wild dogs. They kept coming at me taking turns and trying to bite me. They seemed to be scared of my baton. Every time I pointed it at them, they ran away. Well, I came out of darkness screaming and running in circles. The next guy said, “What’s B. Nice doing?” It was his next turn to run. Well, we had to push him out of the van as he cried, "I don’t want to go out there.”

Other fun things happened like an armed robbery at a gas station; a police escort through east St. Louis (a real rough neighborhood); leaving the back up car behind. There’s lots of stories. I’m glad I did it though. Hey, it was a hell of a way to see America.

I’ll talk to you guys next week. I’m gonna talk to you about how to get a handicapped van at a cheap price.

March 18, 2025

Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I talk about my past.

I’m gonna dedicate this blog to two people. One is my daughter, because she’s here for a week and it’s been great. And the 2nd person is my own personal angel. She’s helping me organize all my film. Now, on to my blog.

See, being a track star came in handy. For example, I had been staying with my friends up in Spanish Harlem. Back in the 80’s it was pretty rough where I was staying. Anyway, I was working my way from my friend’s house to the subway station when I went around a corner and was greeted by a bunch of rough looking kids. One of them said to me, “Hey creampuff, what’s in the case?” I had my camera case with me. Well, I must have run a four minute mile from 130th street down to 59th. I was booking! And remember when you’re running, you never look back.

The second time, being a good runner came in handy was at Daytona Beach. We used to train on the beach in the winter because it was flat and you could run very far. Well, we were running down the beach and we passed a couple bikers (it was biker week). You could tell by the way they were walking they were definitely on something. They weren’t on their bikes. They were staggering down the beach. Well, one of them yelled out, “Hey Faggots!” Well, I turned around and running backwards, I gave them the double bird. Well, one guy didn’t like it because as he ran towards me he pulled out the biggest blade I’ve ever seen. He had it on the inside of his boot. Well, my friends all said, “B Nice, are you f….ing crazy?” We all ran a four minute mile again. Crazy.

But, the best one of all was when I ran from Los Angeles to New York. You had to be a good runner to be in this race. It was me and 11 other guys. We were all in great shape because we just came off of cross country season. But, I’ll tell you man, that was probably the toughest thing I’ve ever done. And did I tell you about the time on this race when the wild dog chased me? Another 4 minute mile, but I’ll save that story for another blog.

Now, being a track star actually helps me get through what I’m going through right now. All the techniques I used for training, I use to get me through the tough times. Like I said before, it pays to be a track star, and if you can’t be a track star, just stay in shape. You never know what’s around the corner.

Oh, here’s a photo of me when I was a young idiot, I’ve put at the start of the blog.

Love and miss you guys. Love, B. Nice

March 11, 2025

Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I talk about my past.

Man, I’m having a tough time, so I always think about my past. I told you about this before, but I love this story.

When I lived in Australia, I learned how to windsurf. Well my friends were standing up on a dune. They were screaming at me to get out of the water. They kept yelling “Get out! Get out!” I turned around and saw a big V wake coming toward me. It was moving fast. I, of course, thought of a big ass shark, so I threw my gear aside and tried running through the water, tried running through waves. I looked like another drunken kangaroo. Anyway, back to the V wake. It made its way through the waves. I screamed and jumped up onto the beach. The V wake went though the waves and came right at me. I yelled some more and shielded my eyes. Then a bunch of fairy penguins jumped out of the water and started shaking the water off of them all around me. They ran down the beach. My friends were all laughing, rolling around on the ground. They could see they were fairy penguins from up high, but at water level, it just looked like a shark. I always had shark on the mind because there were signs up that said, “Swim at your own risk. This is shark territory.” The Japanese tourists always found it amusing that we would walk into the water. They always took pictures of us by the sign. Oh, on another note, I rolled up at the beach with my windsurfers on top of the car. All my friends were standing at the point. You know, where the rock meets the water. They all had binoculars out. I said, what are you guys doing? One of them said, there are some shark feeding off of the point. I went back to my car, got in and went home. For once I was not a young idiot.

I’ve got lots of shark stories, but I’ll keep it short. Love and miss you guys. Love, B. Nice