Okay, now that you’ve seen the video, it’s off to Wogie’s.

Here we go down Sixth Avenue following this nimrod who looks like someone that got abandoned by a hotel.

I love the walking man, he’s a friend of mine and the subject of a short film by my friend Joe Freedman. Check it out: Walking Man Film.

Do not eat a Cheese Steak Sandwich here, they don’t use Cheez Whiz and they are imposters!

The World of Video, located right next to The Wonderful World of Eight Track Tapes.

Ripco Real Estate? Poor choice for a title, I think.

Hi Asshole!

Almost there, which is good, because as you can see, the weather isn’t looking too good. Auntie Em, Auntie Em!

Here we are, Wogie’s, now it’s time to see if there Cheese Steak boast is true.

The Bartender for the evening is Anthony and he’s from Philly and has dined at both Geno’s and Pat’s. He says he prefers Geno’s and delivers the shocking news that neither serve beer! Okay, strike Philadelphia off the old vacation list!

He’s got the devil eyes!

He’s not only the president of The I Need To Join The Hairclub For Men, he’s a member!

For the appetizer I ordered the Wogie’s Chips. These are flatbread crackers smothered in melted gorganzola cheese and served with homemade hot sauce.

Here’s a closeup of the chips...did I mention the hot sauce is homemade?

And here they are fully sauced up! They’re delicious and a meal unto itself! And the hot sauce is delicious...I mentioned that it’s homemade, right? I was going to order chicken wings too, but after this, I bagged that idea and hoped I could just finish the Cheese Steak sandwich.

Here’s a failed self-portrait at the bar.

Here’s a slightly better one in the bathroom.

And just like in Pulp Fiction, when I return from the bathroom my food is there! Here’s the sandwich with an entire tub of hot sauce dumped on it!

And here I am taking the first bite, it was fucking great!

Here’s the guy sitting next to me who took the photo. His name is Mike and it turns out that he too is from Philidelphia, although he told me he prefers Pat’s to Geno’s. Luckily Anthony the bartender wasn’t standing nearby when he told me this. I didn’t want the two of them to get into a fight, that would disturb my steady stream of beers being delivered to me and after eating all that hot sauce, I needed that steady stream!

Halfway through!

And here I am, covered in sweat and filled with meat and cheese. I’ve finished the sandwich. It was fucking great and I will return!

I saw this on the way home and now it’s time to play: You make the call! Beer or Urine Sample...You Make the Call!

Speaking of beer, now it’s time for dessert...Cheers!

Here we are at the Hiro Ballroom in the meatpacking section of Manhattan.

One of my (many) quirks is that I always show up early for events. I was the first one there, the bartender even said, "Are you working here?" I told him I was just an asshole that shows up early for everything and soon I was working on a beer.

Soon the people started showing up.

More people arriving and soon the place was packed.

DJ James Palmer spun tunes before the band came out. A great DJ and he got the crowd warmed up with songs and remixes from Blondie, to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, to David Bowie to the Ting Tings and lots of others. Check out his website here: DJ James Palmer.

Disco Ball!

Oh my, what an unfortuante tattoo that fellow has on his head!

Here's my friend, Ida Langsam, you remember her from Ramones Day, don't you?

Opening act was Liam McMullan. A minimalist band that's a lot of fun.

Here's Bebe's set list that was on the stage.

Here's the band's gear onstage, it's going to happen any second now!

Ladies and gentlemen...BEBE BUELL AND BAND!

Bebe and band rocked from the opening chord till the very end! Enjoy!

Great show Bebe! Thanks again for inviting me!

If you'd like to download "Air Kisses For The Masses," click on the link below. Listen to it while you look at this Photoblog and it'll be just like you were there!

And check out Bebe's book, Rebel Heart, if you haven't already. A great book filled with wild rock 'n' roll tales!

Dee Dee Ramone’s ex-wife, Vera Ramone King has written a book about her life with Dee Dee called Poisoned Heart - I Married Dee Dee Ramone. I found out she was doing a book signing at Barnes and Noble, so I grabbed my camera and here’s some photos from the event.

Here’s the Barnes and Noble on the corner of Warren and Greenwich.

The escalator goes up! Wheee!

They had a nice display Vera’s books.

Here’s the area where it took place. It eventually filled all the way up.

I sat down and looked up, and I realized I printed that at my night job a couple years ago! Impressive, huh? Yeah I know, it sucks.

Here’s Vera posing with her book. I knew we had one friend in common, Legs McNeil. But I had read her thank you section and found out we had another friend in common, writer David Dalton! I told her and she got a kick out of that.

Vera did a short reading and then there were lots of questions and answers. Guess who asked the first question? Yeah, Mr. Big Mouth, me! I figured everybody would be asking stuff about the Ramones, so I asked a question about her writing. I asked if this was her first book and if she was thinking about writing another. She said it was her first book and that she had worked on it for two years, so she had no idea if she was going to do another one. Believe me, I know that feeling!

After the questions everyone lined up to get their book signed. I was second in line, I walked up and she said, “Oh, it’s David’s friend!” I laughed and said, “Yeah,” then I said, “I’ve got a weird request for you, could you sign it, ‘To Marty, Hi Asshole!’ and then sign your name?” She looked at me like I was totally, batshit nuts, started laughing and said, “Okay, if that’s what you want! Strangest request yet!” A lot of people in line were laughing too and I think they all thought I was mental. Here’s Vera signing the book.
(photo: © 2009 Monica Brady)

Here’s Vera holding the autograph, she was a good speaker and a great sport. And probablly relieved to see me leave!

After I left I cursed myself, because I forgot to get a shot of the two of us, and I think we all know by now how much I love myself (just ask my girlfriend, or as I like to call her: My Right Hand.) So I was a little bummed. Some of the people that had laughed had asked for a card for The Marty Wombacher Show, so I checked in here to see if anyone had commented. And someone named Monica had signed the guestbook and it read: “I think you'll like this: http://www.flickr.com/photos/thesmileinn/3608864537/” It was a link to a photo Monica had taken of Vera signing my book! Monica, I can’t thank you enough for supplying this! Great photo and I appreciate you letting me use it!

(photo: © 2009 Monica Brady)

The book looks good and there’s tons of never before published photos in it. If you’d like to buy a copy or look at it, here’s a link to it on Amazon. Happy reading!

Hi Lemonade Stand!

Hi Asshole!

Hi Lemonade Stand!

Hi Asshole!

Hi Lemonade Stand!

Hi Asshole!

Hi Lemonade Stand!

Hi Asshole!

Hi Lemonade Stand!

Hi Asshole! What, are you Sean Penn's grandfather or something?

Hi Lemonade Stand!

Hi Asshole!

And now it's time in the Photoblog where I crush people, Kids In The Hall style. Crush!

Crushcrush!

Crushcrushcrush!

Crushcrushcrushcrush! Okay, enough of this silliness, time to head home.

Hello!

Here we are at the Fillmore NY, formerly Irving Plaza.

Right off the bat I see a familiar face, John Holmstrom, publisher of PUNK magazine and the emcee for the evening. Hello John!

They had a guy playing Ramones songs on a steel drum. It sounded like a punk rock roller rink.

Here's the bartender for the evening, the lovely Kirby.

Cheers!

Happy Birthday, Joey!

Hello!

I got a photo pass, courtesy of Ida Langsam who helps put this event together. So I got to get right up next to the stage.

Here's some of the other people in the camera section.

This guy made me feel a little inadequate, since he had such a big, fancy camera and I just had my little digital thingy.

Here's John Holmstrom introducing the first band of the evening.

Tom Clark & The High Action Boys!

Great show by these guys!

And now...John Holmstrom's boots!

Hello!

Another big camera in the camera section! I look like a retard with my tiny little digital thingamebob.

And now, ladies and gentlemen...

Bebe Buell!

The crowd loved Bebe!

More fancy camera work. These guys are starting to annoy me!

Bathroom break. (Note to self: Wash shoes when you get home.)

Bathroom self portrait. Take that fancy camera guys! This is high end art!

Monte Melnick introduces original drummer Tommy Ramone's duo, Uncle Monk.

Tommy Ramone on mandolin!

Uncle Monk.

Okay, these big camera guys are definitely getting on my nerves. I decide to leave the section and do a photo study of some backs of people at the show.

A series of backs of people by me! Take that fancy camera people, more high end art from me and my cheap little camera. Enjoy!

And now comes the portion where I crush people on stage, Kids in the Hall style. (Yes, I'm officially drunk at this point.)

Crush!

Crush crush!

Crush crush crush!

Crushcrushcrushcrush!

And here is where these guys have me and my little camera all beat...

My camera's battery ran out at this point. Anyway, it was a great night and a great concert! Thanks to Ida Langsom for the photo pass!

We’ll walk down 6th to 14th Street, it’s nice to see jacketless people once again!

And here we are, the 14th street subway station. Watch your step and look out for random vomit.

I’ve been seeing this guy for years down here. He only plays Beatles songs and he’s really good. Today he’s singing, “Help,” and since I took his photo I flipped him a buck. The last of the big spenders, that’s me!

Okay, here we are, down in the bowels of New York’s subway system. That kid looks like a young Travis Bickle in the making. I don’t think we’ll stand next to him.

Here comes a train, but it’s the One train and it’s a local, which means it makes twice as many stops as the express. Fuck it, I’m going to gamble and wait for the express.

Goddamnit, it really stinks like piss down here today. Where the fuck is the express?

Seriously, would you touch this wall with your bare hand? I’m nervous just standing a few feet from it. It looks like a buffet of germs and diseases. Sheesh!

Fuck, I should’ve taken the local. I should never trust my instincts! They’re the one’s that told me writing would pay off one day.

Here’s another One train, all aboard!

At least the car isn’t too crowded so we can sit and watch this guy playing with his scratch off ticket. He lost. I hope he doesn’t start playing with anything else now.

And before you know it, here we are, the Upper West Side of Manhattan.

Oh my fucking God! Only a block into our adventure and disastor has struck. This boarded up, empty building used to be the P & G Tavern. A bar I used to hang out at when I lived up here, years ago. I only lived a couple blocks away and I was in here all the time. It was the first bar I drank in when I moved here. I can’t believe it’s shut down! It was an institution on the Upper West Side. They used it as a backdrop in a lot of movies and TV shows, including Donnie Brasco and Seinfeld. I feel just like John Belushi in Animal House, I can’t believe they took the fucking bar! Fuck. Oh well, fuck it let’s just move on. I’ll try and find a photo of this place from my photo archives when I get home, so you can see it in all it’s glory.

I don’t think this is what Obama had in mind.

Here’s the door man and entrance to the Dakota building where John Lennon got shot and bought the farm. There’s always some kooks taking pictures of this spot.

And here’s the kook du jour. Jeez, he kinda looks like Mark David Chapman! Let’s get out of here!

72nd St. and Central Park West, here we are.

Wow, it looks packed!

They want four bucks for a Cherry Garcia ice cream bar? For that kind of dough, it better be laced with primo acid.

I always enter the park through Strawberry Fields. It’s a safe bet there’s at least one pathetic loser in here, accoustic guitar in hand, destroying a Beatles or John Lennon song.

And today is no exception. The song they’re ripping to shreds is “Things We Said Today.” I call this picture, “Pathetic Squared.”

It amazes me how many people waste their money on flowers to leave here.I think John Lennon would’ve thought the whole thing was a big joke. Every time I look at this, I think of the following lyrics from the Elvis Costello song, “The Other Side of Summer:” “Was it a millionaire, who said imagine no possessions?” I think Lennon would’ve loved that line.

Alright, here we are in the heart of the park! What a day for a daydream. What a day for some sunscreen.

Oh geez, look at this guy. Nothing says, “I surrendered my balls,” quite like the man/baby tote.

This is the fountain area, sadly the fountain is dry and just brings back sad memories of the P & G. Sob!

This is my favorite walkway in the park. I’m starvin’ like old Marvin, here, time for a hot dog break.

Here’s a couple carts. Hey, nice jeans, asshole!

When I ordered a hot dog with mustard, I didn’t even look at the container till now. I think that explains the explosive diahrea about four hours later. Thanks hot dog man!

And here’s the hot dog in all its tainted mustard glory.

As long as this guy is there, print will never die! That Duane Reade bag is filled with newsprint, some of it from this decade even!

Hi Mickey Rourke! Loved you in “The Wrestler!” Good luck with that...uhh...thing you’ve got there!

Looks like I’m not the only one who thought these girls were singing a tad off tune. They’re just lucky that prick Simon from American Idol isn’t around.

It’s so nice people are laying out in the sun. Let’s go take a closer look.

Oh my! I think I’ve had enough people watching for today, time to head home.

And through the magic of the Photoblog, baboom! Here we are, home sweet home. Hmmm...what should I do now?

Well, that should occupy the rest of the afternoon! Cheers!

P.S. Here’s the P & G, back in all its glory. Cheers to the memories of another great fallen New York institution.