September 17, 2025

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

I’m gonna dedicate this blog to my friend in Paris. I drove the guy crazy because I called him every night to go out. So this blog is dedicated to him.

Man, I loved living in Paris. I must have because I spent most of last night and in Paris at Captain Jack’s Taco House. Captain Jack’s Tacos was something I dreamed about all last night. That’s kind of weird right? I have to find out if Captain Jack’s tacos actually exists!

My friend and I spent a lot of our time at Café Louis Phillippe. Here’s the link. It was great because my friend’s friend owned the place. We spent many a meal there and many bottles of Calvados. One night, I think I told you this before, we ended up dancing on the bar at closing time. Then we all decided to go out dancing at a local night club. Well, we all piled into our friend’s jeep (a Czechoslovakian jeep with no roof). Then it started to pour with rain. Our friend said, no problem and he produced a bunch of garbage bags. We started driving to the night club covered in garbage bags, Then our friend decided to go down the steps next to the Seine river. He decided to go down the steps and go across the quay and up the steps to the next bridge. Well, I decided it was a bad idea so I baled out the back. Well, I saw them travel across the quay, up the steps to the next bridge. I thought “Holy shit! They made it.” So I started running for their car. Now imagine this, there are two guards standing in front of the prime minister’s house and a guy comes running out of the dark in a garbage bag and it’s pouring with rain. Well, as I got closer to them, I pretended to be normal and stopped running. They looked at me and I said to them, in my American accent, “Bonjour.” They said,”Bonjour.” and I started running. Man, I’m lucky I didn’t get shot. Oh yeah, did I mention they had automatic machine guns. Mind you, this was all before 9/11. Anyway, I caught up to my friends, jumped into the back of the jeep and off to the night club we went. Just about every night was like this. It was crazy then. I’m probably like I am now because of Paris. My friend here says I probably wouldn’t trade it for a second, and she’s right. It was fun.

Above is a cartoon of one of the many crazy adventures I had there. We got into a water balloon fight in the Bois de Boulogne. That’s my friend there in the back of the boat on the left throwing a water balloon at me. Or wait. Was it a vodka balloon fight. I can’t remember if it was water or vodka. We had water gun fights with vodka.

OK. One more story about Café Louis Phillippe. One more of many. Now, my friend and I used to sit at the bar and commiserate for our lack of work. Well, after many glasses of calvados, I looked at my friend’s huge dog who used to always sleep under the spiral staircase. Well, I said to my friend, if you touch that dog’s balls you’ll have good luck and lots of work. I didn’t share with him that he’d probably lose his hand. well, he went over and touched the dog’s balls and the dog looked up at him like “Did you just touch my balls?!” Well, it worked because the next day he was booked to shoot the cover of Elle with Spike Lee. so the next night we were celebrating, we were all drinking calvados. I said to my friend I want some more work so I reached under the staircase and touched the dog’s balls. The dog looked up at me. He looked like Scooby Doo. He looked like “Did you just touch my balls?” Well, it worked because I got booked with Grazia magazine in Capri. He should have rented that dog out.

Anyway, there are many other stories about Café Louis Phillippe. That’s about it for this week. Oh yeah, please sign my petition. I’m trying to get decent sidewalks so I can go get food. I used to dance on the bar, now I wheel my way to the store to get food. Crazy life, Right?

https://form.jotform.com/252464439532056

Love and miss you guys. Love, B. Nice

September 9, 2025

Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I talk about my past. Although I looked at the date, Sept 9 - on the 9th of every month I get my food stamp money. A whopping $23. That’s probably what you get to milk a cow. So this leads me to the cartoon up above. You see, when my friend comes over, she goes to the shelf and pulls out one of my diaries. We open a page and I talk about what the cartoon is about.

You see, I used to go to Miami all the time. Especially in the winter months. Man, I should have gotten a condo there. I practically lived there, I would shoot there so often. This is what happened to me once: I got my cuban coffee and my newspaper. I got onto my location van, sat in the front seat as I always do, and started to read my newspaper and drink my coffee. Then I looked at my driver and thought, “this isn’t my driver…” Then I looked back and my assistant is getting some coffee. I thought, these aren’t my assistants. Then I looked at the hair and makeup. They weren’t my hair and makeup people. Yes, I was in the wrong van. There were so many crews shooting there, it was crazy. I got on the right van and off to work we went. I can’t quite remember what the specifics are about the cartoon above, but I do remember I shot in Miami all the time. The cartoon is probably about some food I had there. Man, I ate out all the time. We would go to some specific restaurants constantly. The cartoon is probably about this one Italian restaurant we went to all the time. It was good. I’ll tell you though, the cuban coffee there is awesine, and the cuban sandwiches are pretty awesome as well. Sushi was also good there. I mean, hell, the ocean is right there. Being a photographer had its benefits. I definitely ate well.

I remember now. The sun up in the corner of the cartoon reminds me that the sun was crazy strong there. I could only shoot in the morning there between 7 and 9. Then in the afternoon 3-6. You always had to be careful of skin cancer. I was outside all the time. I also shot backlit (meaning the sun was behind the model and on me). So, a good pair of sunglasses, a hat and long sleeves and pants are definitely needed. That is unless you want to get skin cancer. But being outside was pretty awesome. I was actually on the beach most of the time.

Hey, what do you call a cow running down the hill? —- A milk shake. Sorry, I just had to throw that in there. Hey come on, I’m a dad right? That’s definitely a dad joke.

I’m gonna leave it at that because I’m a little bit off from this advocacy for sidewalks here. We need sidewalks in our neighborhood and I’m starting up a drive to try and get sidewalks put in. Like I said before, I’ve turned into that little old lady in the window screaming at people to get out of the street. It’s working though. They’re starting to put in broken curbs in my neighborhood. A broken curb is a curb with a ramp. Next, I’ll make sure they put in the proper sidewalks so people don’t walk in the road.

Miss and love you guys. Love B. Nice

P.S. Please sign and share my petition - link below.

https://form.jotform.com/252464439532056

August 26, 2025

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

Speaking of past. Have a look at the drawing above. My friend here looked at the date. It was like 30 years ago! Crazy how time goes by. It feels like I was there last year.

I’m gonna dedicate this blog to my friend Jean-Pierre. Man, that guy was like the mayor of Paris. It was funny when he came to Australia, I showed him around the photo labs, the modeling agencies, locations. You get the idea. He said, “If you ever come to Paris, please look me up.” Well, I went four weeks later. I think I called the poor guy every day I was there. It was fun though. We went out all the time. My liver is still recovering. As a matter of fact, I just had my gall bladder removed. The doctor said that was the worst gall bladder he’s ever seen. I said, that’s not a gall bladder. That’s called Paris. So Jean-Pierre, it’s all your fault.

The above Cafe De La Mairie was my favorite cafe to go to. When my apartment was too cold, I would go and hang out at Cafe de la Mairie. I guess you could say I was a true artist living in Paris. I would sit in the cafe, nurse my coffee, then bier, all day. I used to draw all the time. It was a nice place to hang out. Actually, Paris, in general, was a great place to hang out. It was also central to the rest of Europe. My agent was based in Paris, but I’d get hired to go to Italy, London, Spain, Portugal, Germany. Life was good. It was a great place to live. If I sound like I’m reminiscing, it’s because I am. I had a hard day today. I wanted to reminisce about the past. This blog is a good form of escape.

So, let’s go back to Paris. Oh man, the food was so good there. The best restaurants to go to were the restaurants that were run by younger people. You see there were a lot of young chefs in Paris. The food was cheap and very good. You kind of had to get inside info to find out where to go. Luckily, the production crew at the magazine I worked for all the time knew where to go. It was cool. And thank God it wasn’t expensive. There are some restaurants to go to that have what’s called a brasserie in a more informal section. It’s the same kitchen, but half the price. I think the one I went to go to all the time was called, CLOSERIE DES LILAS (https://www.closeriedeslilas.fr/o/brasserie-bar/). I remember one time I was at the bar (imagine that) and I looked down. There was a little brass plaque there that said “Victor Hugo.” I guess I was in good company, and in his usual seat. Anyway, it was a great place. I miss it. But the restaurant is still there. You could go if you want. Oh yeah, make sure if you do, you call Jean-Pierre (ha ha ha ha).

Anyway, that’s about it for now. I’m working on getting sidewalks put in in my town. I used to talk about models. Now I sit in the window like an old Italian woman, screaming at kids to get off the street. Man, I gotta get a hobby. This brain injury thing is getting old.

Love and miss you guys. Love, B. Nice

P.S. There’s one thing I learned in Paris. I think Voltaire said it best: I violently disagree with what you’re saying, but I respect the right you have to say it.

That’s it. See you next week. Love, B. Nice

August 12, 2025

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

Sometimes I just need a break from what’s going on right now. This is when I ask my friend to go to my bookshelf and pull out one of my diaries. We talk about the image that she pulls up. For example, the image above. Now, I had to renew my Australian Visa every six months. I had to leave the country and come back in. My favorite place to go was New Zealand. The above cartoon is from when we were there during deer mating season. I couldn’t get a wink of sleep. The deer were making this howling noise all night long. And it’s not a quiet yell. It’s a howling noise I can’t even describe. Man, that noise could wake the dead! The other thing we loved to do was go horseback riding, but the horses were like programmed. They would just follow the horse in front of them. It was like being on an amusement ride. We always seemed to be in nature. It was pretty cool. So many adventures I’ve had. I’ll tell you a couple.

One time we were camping in North Australia, the rain forest. Our guide sat down and started crying. I went over to him and said, Are you all right mate? He just started crying more. He said he left a compass and map at the other site durning lunch. We were officially lost in the rain forest. Luckily, my friend, this Australian woman, took over. She was no-nonsense. I immediately felt comfortable that we would make it out alive. That is, until we came across three gum trees that fell over. I mean they were huge gum trees. Imagine a 10 story building falling over. Well, that’s what these three trees were like. We managed to climb over the trees, which was very dangerous, and find the trail on the other side. Well, after being covered in leeches and blood, we finally made it out. Imagine us trying to hitchhike down the road. We were covered in mud and blood. We looked like something out of a horror movie, but we were picked up by what I thought was a reincarnation of my grandparents. It was very cool. They gave us a ride all the way back to Sydney. My other friend, Bria, was a respectable banker. One of Australia’s leading bankers. No one would pick him up. He was pissed. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, we all split up into couples so we could get a ride easier. I mean, who’s gonna pick up a gang covered in mud and blood.

OK, I’ll tell you one more outdoors story. My wife, at the time, and I were in northern Australia. We heard there was a great campsite nearby. Rumor had it you would go to a local general store and get a key to camp at this spot by the river and ocean. Well, we got there kind of late and set up our tent in the dark. I kept hearing noises all night. Then I woke up to find out we were camped by a big site for saltwater crocodiles. It’s a good thing I didn’t get up to pee at night.

Anyway, that’s it for now. I’ve got lots of other stories of the wilderness in Australia, Western United States, Brazil, but we’ll save them for later.

Talk to you guys next time. Love, B. Nice

August 5, 2025

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

This is a photo from when I lived in Brooklyn Heights. That’s me on the far left. Man, we used to get in trouble, but we always hung out together. I’ll just share a couple of memories with you.

The police were like a second father to us. I remember someone stole one of our bikes. The police immediately gave us some ice cream and put us in the back of their squad car. We drove around looking for the bike. I remember being worried about all of our ice cream melting on the seat. That would have been a great photo.

We all carried sharpened popsicle sticks in our back pockets. We thought it was cool. And it was cool until we discovered that a sharpened popsicle stick goes into someone’s calf like a hot knife into butter. Yeah, we got in trouble for shivving someone. The nurse at the playground was not amused. (They used to have a nurse on duty at the playground. And the person we shivved was a person trying to steal another bike.)

Brooklyn Heights was pretty cool. We lived right next to the promenade on Montague Street. 68 Montague on the top floor. I went back there before I got injured and everything looked small, but then I got down on my knees and I had an “aha” moment. It was also the first time I ever told a lie. I found a dollar bill in the street so I immediately went to the corner penny candy store and slapped the bill on the counter. I said, “OK, I’ll take a hundred pieces of gum.” The owner of the store said “Does your mother approve of this?” And I lied. I said, “Yup.”

That’s it for this week. I want to keep it short. I’m working on a project. Can you please sign this petition and share it with as many people as possible. You might have to copy and paste it.

https://form.jotform.com/252024018823145

Love and miss you guys. Love, B. Nice