props.

if you saw me hopping around south beach last night you'll understand my love for props.

jamie and i arrived and headed straight to sushi samba. after a few free lychee mojitos for me and coconut mojitos for jamie - made by the greatest penelope cruz look alike bartender (merli) - we were in prime prop scouting mode. the drunk prop is always better than the sober prop. it's more random and makes a lot less sense. tonight's prop was the mini lobster claw that came with my sushi. his name is heathrow. yeah, like the airport.

jamie carefully tucked our new friend into her clutch (bad idea) and he would come out later in the night when we were making new friends or getting to know the door men at various places like the delano, cameo, mynt, and some random rooftop party. we were a hit. this was until we got out of a cab at the delano - well i got out, jamie fell out. i laughed. as she fell something popped out of her clutch and fell right into the drainage thing at the curb. holy shit. we were not concerned about it being the car keys, camera, or cell phone. it was heathrow. goddamit - we just acquired that prop. i suddenly broke out my faux british accent as a replacement for the lost lobster claw. but then i had a genius idea... "jamie you gotta put your hand down there and save him! leave no man behind!"

we saved heathrow and walked right into the delano. heathrow began making friends and combined with my accent - we were golden. why do i do this accent? i have no idea. because it makes me laugh. people are so stupid they actually believe it's real. i call it bristralian. yeah cause i'm indian, british, and i lived in australia so "it's become quite a hodge podge of an accent". oh and jamie was promoting my argentinian heritage. i am none of these things - except indian. this is great until someone challenges the authenticity of your fake accent.