Awesome's Creek

So yeah, Tally Dead Dead asked me how it went hanging out with this guy (blush!) the other night
and I was like ummmmm AWESOME.
Then he said, "Oh, Awesome's Creek?"
Sometimes I get so pissed off when Tally says funny things I should have thought up ages ago.
Ugh.

Ok, today was awful. Really!? Why!?
Because it's Tuesday, forgetful! You know how I feel about the Tues.
Poosday.

I was walking in drizzle around 2:25 this afternoon pushing a stroller wishing I could just put my hands in my pockets. January has truly fucked up my knuckles. Sigh.
I'm waiting to cross the street at 66th and 2nd, and this little boy and his mom come out of Dunkin Donuts. I'm waiting there just observing while this awful troll of a kid
has an appalling temper tantrum.
He's bitching and doing the crocodile tears thing and his mom is just basically ignoring him. She's not even reprimanding him. He's just acting disgusting and bratty, I know what thats like, I'm a nanny. Sometimes you just have to act like it's not happening, but this went to far for my liking.

Cross my heart and my legs, seriously, next thing I know, he just rears back his bitty foot and tries to KICK a PIGEON.
Like he wanted it to die. It just ruffled up its feather and wandered off, because luckily enough the kid was no real threat, horrid aim.
I think about kicking pigeons all the time, we all do. But I've never actually done it. I'm an adult, but seriously. What?
It's like when you're driving on a highway and you get a flash in your mind of just whipping the steering wheel and careening off the road for no reason. Impulses, really awful destructive ones. Yeah, I'm super hateful and I scowl at the birds and picture them dead and buried, but thats not the point.

Anyway back to antichrist kid.



I was thinking to myself, what a total asshole. But then i thought some more and decided it's not really his fault. He's a little kid who lives in New York. Pigeons are nast. Rats with feathers. I'm an adult with common sense and I have to restrain myself from the impulse to kick regularly.
Suburbs are good for something I suppose.
Less anger toward nature, because nature is less haggard looking outside of the metropolis. And there's less poop in the suburbs somehow. All the New York creatures poop wherever and just stroll around like they own the joint.
Pigeons vs Humans.
The day will come.


After that whole sitch I thought my brain was decomposing so I listened to In Rainbows on the bus on the way home from work.



The bus is awesome sometimes because it's masturbatory when idling. Don't front y'all!
Vibration aside, I think I discovered a new plane of existence.
Thom Yorke is so genius, so sweet and beautiful.
When he writes a song I wonder how exactly does he know that it will make me weep gently?
Sigh.
Sometimes I love music so much that I can't take it.
I would rather be blind than deaf. I hope god doesn't think that was a challenge cause I really don't want to be blind either.
For once, I am struck almost speechless. When I try to talk about music.
Because I can't make it. I can only love it and love it and love it and I think it is one thing that can make people feel sane again.

I just think if I couldn't hear music I would forget myself.




"I am all the days that you choose to ignore
You're all I need"

nothing to see here.

Its official.
Katie and I are no longer just buddies we are roomies.
We shall start it right today watching my people the Dead Rabbits kick some Native ass. Gangs of New York forevs.
Didi and Leo ugh the sex. The sex. Men are awesome.




So yeah, I definitely want to get my travel on.
I still heart New York, no shit statement.


Frau Lisa was here from Berlin being hilarious and euro avant garde.



Cheeky.


We had a pretty fantastic weekend, new friends are boss.
We did the whole Good World thing Friday and thank god there were some amusing folks there.
A certain hilarious sassy jew blessed us with his presence and I guess I drank a lot and ended up licking faces and acting straight retarded.
Joke of the day came from Mr Berel when he told us that he likes to fuck with homeless girls cause when you're done you can drop them off anywhere.

Lisa also told me that we live like bums in New York and that no one lives like that in Berlin. So basically I'm jealz. I want health insurance and affordable housing too.
C'mon.

Somehow I ended up sticking it out at Good World for awhile and sitting at a table with some girls and chatting them up so I could eat their bread. I really love the bread there. The dip is sublime.

Saturday Frau, Sam, Petit and I went way uptown to Adrian's housewarming.
What a schlep.
I would totally move up there if the man of my dreams made me an honest woman and wanted to have some babes. They could run around up there in some giant apartment for about 1500 a month. It's pretty genius. I just need someone to fall in love with me first, nbd.

It's really amazing to hang out with models. The snacks were miniscule brownies, fennel, and rice cakes. Seriously? Yes, quite.
I guess I got drunk again and sat around in the dimmest lighting is history. Posh!
The apartment is fucking fantastic but I would rather be dead then take the train to 125th every goddamn day. So thats what I found out. You can wait for the D for about 25 minutes and want to blow your brains out, thats the cost of Harlemworld for real.
Thankfully Petit was there to amuse with all sorts of stories about her dad being racist and her grandma being horny.




Laughing is the most beautiful thing in the entire world. I want to laugh and get back rubs for the rest of eternity and also sometimes make out.


I also want to go back in time and be Dead Rabbit.
Sigh.
I just don't really want to smell like them because they bathed a full 4 or 5 times a year.
Musk!
Imagine their crotches! Or don't.

old guys!

So I saw Project Larry at the laundromat on Madison last night.

Project Larry is the typical project guy. He walks in with a brown bag beer with his snazzy little hat on. He has no laundry. Nope just stoppin by, the uj.
Wheel of Fortune is on, so we get to chatting about how attractive brains are. Larry informs me that nothing else matters at all.
I would guestimate that he is, I don't know, 400 years old.
But, like all other virile brothers of the projects, he appears to be between the ages of 28 and 45. Never a day older. It's one of the many natural phenomenons of being a black man. You simply do not age. Then you just die looking like a don.

Larry told me I looked like I was expecting. i hear this ALL of the time in my neighborhood. Everyone thinks I'm preggs. White girls dress like idiots. Big long shirts and leggings, of course they think I'm with child.

So yeah, somehow Larry ends up telling me this story about the gun he kept from Vietnam. He tell me family is the most wonderful thing in the world and that we have to protect eachother. One day he went to his sisters house and sat on the couch reading a magazine waiting for her man to come home. She was getting beat real bad, so Larry schooled the boyfriend and took out the gun shouting like "I was in Nam and I'm a good ass shot my man. You need to leave. i know you're gonna miss the pussy but just FORGET IT."
Then he laughed maniacally.
This was all re-enacted in front of terrified chinese women at 8 o clock at night.
Aamazing.
We talked about when he used to be a social worker. He's a super smart old drunk. He got his Masters from Syracuse after he left Jers (whut whut)
He's pretty crazy to have gone through all of that stuff back in the olden times when a black man was just a Nword to most of the brainiacs of this great country. But Larry laughs at adversity. Then he spits in its face. Then he takes it out for a drink to apologize. then he takes back the apology. Then he fistfights adversity. Then he takes it home and has sex with it. jaja.

Larry likes to talk about how much his mom and pops loved eachother. they had 13 kids including him. they would fight like crazy, then pops would go for a walk to cool down. Then he would come home and his parents would "tear eachother up"
They would spank eachother in the bedroom. Thanks Larry, your kinky ass parents are exactly what I've been waiting to see in my mind all day. Rad.
But he just smiles and tells me that THATS LOVE. Thats reality, and family, and happiness, and he's totally right.

Other topics covered by Larry last night:

1. his sister's boobs streching his snazzy sweaters
2. the routes running through Jersey to get to Wildwood (what?)
3. being a farmer
4. why I should not go back to school
5. why i should get married
6. reasons he is not a "faggot"
7. pet ownership
8. why it's not pathetic that I still have roommates at 24
9. why men should not beat up women
10. menstration


He has a bunch of daughters, and I bet he a riot all day long calling them to tell them unrelated tidbits.
He has these foul dry hands, I'm telling you they look like tissue paper.
I am pretty sure he is Father Time's grandpa.

I hope Larry lives forever because he is my hero.


EW PS. remember this old guy from the Six Flags commercials?!
Grossest thing ever. I pray he does not return to basic cable come spring.
He's not even an old dude!
He's some limber homosexual dancer from an amateur "troupe" wearing creepy makeup.
Get this away from me.

Youre dead, Cruise

This is the reason i get on tappa yas.

Serial Killers.

I will never have the right roommates.
I think the constant in the situation is me so maybe I am the wrong roommate.
I went back to Craigslist the other day.
Many a response.

Heres are two scary people who want to kill me in my sleep:

BRENDA
hi, my names brenda and i'm interested in the room for rent. i'm in my last semester of dental hygiene school and work as a dental assistant in tribeca. for fun i like sewing, reading, listening to my records, and film.

my analysis: hi i'm brenda i don't get my period because its devil seepage.

HUGO
1. employed-yes I am work for the NYPD currently in the police academy
2. tidy-very
3. familiar with the area-I can't say that I am, but I am a quick study, and I will last more than 3 months just point me to the train and I'll be fine or walk aimlessly tell I get familiar with the place. That's how I've gotten to know NYC. I'm orginally from L.A.
4. able to stay until AT LEAST October, possibly longer-yes I can
5. able to pay first and security-not a problem either
6. awesome-I am awesome =)

Ok now for more detail about me my name is Hugo I'm 30 college grad. like I had stated earlier I'm from L.A. and just moved to NY and joined the NYPD =)

my analysis: in this case, I am the serial killer and he hates me. Really? AN LA COP CUM NYPD HOMOSEXUAL WHO USED SMILEYS IN TEXT? and hes 30. fresh.


Always more to come.
gettin on tappa ya Craig.

Winona eats shit.

I feel like Winonathon would be better explained this evening through pictures rather than words.
I think I wasted all of my funny today trying to amuse Bianca and Co.
Anyway, Beetlejuice, Mermaids, Edward Scissorhands, and Reality Bites. Long fucking day of cinema, especially since i hate Winona Ryder. She is the worst dancer in history yet dances in all of these movies. She is an absolutely nerd, and not in the rad way. She is just a hot oxycontin little mess.
But the whole sitch was worth it just to see the DAY-O possessed dinner scene from Beetlejuice. Amazing. Michael Keaton also fucking geeeeenius in that movie. He is such a repulsive creep.
Stephanie was a spaz for the entirety of that movie. What her deal is I don't know but I think she secretly sleeps in some futuristic energy pod/coffin. It truly does not stop. The moving around. Its exhausting to watch.

Food cramming. We are not Ethiopians on our first trip out of the barren wasteland. But maybe we are.




There was cake. It was good. So good.





Put it in your mouth! Thats what he said! Oh jokes!



i enjoyed. mm. i think red velvet cake is sexah.

Speaking of sexah, or usually not at all, we perused Playgirl for awhile. I think Corrine keeps a copy in her pants to take out whenever possible. We also used the word flacid more time in one day than ever in recorded history. Weiner talk is funny!



There were blankies. So many blankies.


Dballs is hiding. Sterp is taking a nap and eating a Ruffle at the exact same time.
Liv looks like she would rather be smelling Ethan Hawke's vinegar balls than spending time with us. What an asshole. JKjkjkjkjk, I love saying things like that so she will send me a text like what the fuck is your problem. I am starting the countdown now for said text.

There was of course continuous talking over the movies. A lot of it was me stating why I hate Winons. I want to have a Jeff Bridges-athon. Hot.



I took this picture of Naomi simply to have evidence that her nose is hilariously cute. What a Little Debbie.
Turns out you can't really see her nose. But you can see that televisions look like tools of possession when photographed. Naomi getting her brain eaten: jokes on her!

Caitlin and Bianca sit like lesbians.




I decided not to adjust the weird romantic lighting effect because it suits the obvious hearts and balloons thing they have going. Bianca, this is what you get for calling me a lesbian all day. That goes for the rest of you to. Shut it.

Where are you Chiara?
Oh, not in any of these pictures? Aparently the best place to sit is directly behind me so I don't catch you making ugly eating face, gay snuggling, or reading dirty magazines. Good call.

I drank three cans of Coke. That was awes.
Not awes. The fact that this is actually in the script of Reality Bites: "You're on the inside track to Loserville, USA."
I hate you 90s.

These pictures make us look amazingly boring. Incorrect camera phone, so incorrect.
I think I have just once again proved I am able to make all people look bad on film.
Yay!

Oh, Flu.

I have had the flu since Thursday afternoon.

I never felt bad for people when they said they have the flu because the last time I had it I was 8. My memories of it are pretty diminished and its just not something I relate to or pity.
OK well thats all over now.
The flu is fucking hell. It's new name is the Insane Boiling Vomit n' Shits.
I swear to sexy god, I became a fucking demon tossing around in my bed, sick-crying and freaking out.
The first fateful night Petit was here to play nurse so at least I had that. I drank mad Gatorade (as per uj) and didn't eat a thing for at least 48 hours. Ew. Seriously.
Enough about that.
I wasn't doing real well standing for more than 15 seconds until about yesterday evening. So Petit came over once again as did Sister Katie Orlinsky, our favorite Bloomberg paid anarchist sellout.

We did a couple of pretty key things.

I finally ate. A very buttery grilled cheese with sharp cheddar. good call sensitive stomach. My brain. Not effective. Too hungry.
Katie and I discussed our past fashion moments if you can call them that. The black flared-bottom dress pants accompanied by the tiny pastel top and silver jewelery was the most shameful to revisit. How one can be boring and slutty at the same time, I don;t know but it once happened.
We also decided there would be no harm in bringing back the days of going downstairs at Canal Jeans and getting old wide leg sailor denim and used tees. Ugh. What a dream. If only.
So most importantly we watched There Will Be Blood.
I re-title this film, She Will Get Moist.
Daniel Day Lewis is a fucking hot old man. He is just superb.
DiDi, as I affectionately call him, kicks ass all over the place EVERY SINGLE time he is in a movie. He is lanky yet so terribly masculine. He is also hilarious. I hope one day I see him somewhere so I can say, "Mr Lewis. You sir, are old. But. You being old would NEVER. EVER. Stop my from letting you tea bag me. I mean that. If you want to go do something somewhere I'm really game. I won't even sell the story of how wrinkled your balls are to the tabloids."
I really seriously love him and on a less disrepectful note (he is a man of the craft)
this movie is really really great. The score is killer, it has such an unusual human interest appeal, it is just so fucking AMERICAN.
There were parts in this movie where I was just so blown away. The scene where Didi and his son get a steak... drunken drunken maniacal genius. The fire at the oil site?

Psht. I really cant say enough but if I say anything, it's a spoiler.
Ugh! The scene with the admission of sin?!

The BOWLING ALLEY BEATDOWN!? Just see it, thats the point.
PS how do I go back in time and become a prospector? I really just want the title. And to say things like this in all seriousness,
"One night, I'm gonna come inside your house, wherever you're sleeping, and I'm gonna cut your throat."

Sidenote: I also watched Juno but I don't really care to discuss it because it wasn't that awesome. Sorry but I'm over the "all knowing teenagers with a world of philosophical gems spouted out with perfectly rounded vocabulary and knowledge about pop culture of the past 3-5 generations of music and film." Fuck off.
That being said, I love Micheal Cera, I DID cry at the end, and Jennifer Garner is fucking pretty. Glad I got that all off my chest.

Off to Winonathon.
Jaja.

Sewer crotch!!

No no silly!
Not La Lohan!




Dinosaurs!


Lovemaking must have required some delicacy and careful positioning since palaeontologists believe most dinosaurs did not have a true penis. Their genitalia, like those of modern birds and reptiles, are thought to have been tucked up beneath their tail in a small vent called the cloaca, Latin for sewer.

Cloacal organs in birds, reptiles and amphibians, are used for copulation, urination and defecation, and do not show on the outside.

If dinosaurs also had cloaca, according to theory penetration would have occurred when the male cloaca filled up with blood and bulged out into the cloaca of the female - much like a couple of plumber's plungers pushing against each other. But lining up two cloacas was not as easy as you may think, particularly for dinosaurs the size of a house trying to line up cloacal openings that might have been only 20 cm in diametre and were tucked away under their thick tails, which could not be twisted easily.

The male would have had to move the opening of his cloaca close to that of the female so that his sperm could enter the female cloaca in what is referred to as a 'cloacal kiss'. Today in animals with cloacas, this exchange can happen very fast, sometimes in just a few seconds.



Well well well.
Looks like the conditions have improved.
Not really gettin on tappa yas!

Challah atcha goil.

I met Le Petit Ryan today for a playdate so they call it. We brought the kiddies.
Went to the Museum of Natural History because I don't think I have the place committed completely to memory yet.

Notes:

Everyone who works in security is funny. Especially if they are black. That's why there are so many comedies written for black people with blue collar jobs. White people don't really know how to relax just yet and loosen up, it may take us a couple hundred more years. With evolution we will one day joke effectively.

Did dinosaurs have penises? Well this was the question of the day. Seems logical that they would....but they lay eggs....like birds. Birds in fact DO NOT have penises. Where do we go from here? Research. I will look into this.

Oy gevalt


We seriously considered sending the children off to make the penis inquiry.


Serious awe. AWWW.


Boys at the age of 25 are the same as they were at 2.
They like to create havoc and noise. They are horrible listeners and their balls just get bigger when you raise your voice. It's basically in their nature to be like , "Bitch who the fuck are you yelling at? Psht. I think I'm gonna go climb on that thing and see who I can piss off."


this artifact will make a fine seat for us poopypants children.


Andean art makes me emo to the max


yo I'm out. Meet me at the African Mammals suckas.

This guy has really bad taste. The photo gives less evidence than I would like. I followed him from the entrance to the elevator up to the 4th floor. It was totally called for.

So I had this idea for my hair. Young Frankenstein slash Jerry Lee Lewis? Yeah, I thought it was a fresh idea too. Someone punch me in the face.

Pygmies are hilarious.
Petit looks like one but does not qualify as she is slightly taller than 4'6.

Hm, says here I can't read. I'm 2.
Ryan could you please ask your people about their natural habitat?

The museum knows where to give up. There is a little glass window in the Asian People section reserved for JEWISH ASIA.
It is pitch black and empty.
Go see for yourself. No Josh and Judy Changs far as we know. (joke credit Ryan Taylor Eastman)

I want lots of rugrats.
Lemme get one please. BFT, I'm 24 going on 60.

Lodular!

me: hi
talLjon78: hi
me: i will need to say
me: that
me: i am a metallic scent
talLjon78: like literally?
me: no
me: you can be a cup of teaa
talLjon78: if you were a candle?
me: orange indian tea
me: peed out
talLjon78: so
talLjon78: what youre saying is
talLjon78: your essence
talLjon78: scent-wise
talLjon78: is a candle that smells like metal that got peed out
me: no
talLjon78: i follows not
me: if i were a carpenter
me: and you were a douchbag
me: da da da da da
10:30 PM
talLjon78: are you trying to not make sense
me: no.
me: dont jugde the carpenter
me: it wont end until the finch arrives!
me: finch arrival
10:35 PM
talLjon78: shut up
me: and touch it
me: attach it
talLjon78: shut up attach it
me: shutupattachit
talLjon78: yessss
me: dadupachuchiit
talLjon78: haha
me: thats a retard saying it
talLjon78: thats you saying it after a dozen shots of tequila
talLjon78: with the sound of shattering glass in the background
me: ahahah
me: i lolled
me: lodular
me: ular
me: i like that
me: sound
10:40 PM
me: what one do you like
talLjon78: what sound?
talLjon78: um
talLjon78: dwep
me: a real one rere
talLjon78: squirt
me: i hate squirt you fucking asshole!
me: member that website
me: about squirts
me: ?
talLjon78: foreversquirt
talLjon78: i got a one way ticket to squirt city
me: forever21squirts
me: ew tally
talLjon78: what
talLjon78: its my thing
me: your thing is being a fucking faggotmaggot
me: that means you eat the poop of gay people
talLjon78: your thing is being a cup for two girls
10:45 PM
me: nope
talLjon78: yes
me: im the girl
talLjon78: yes
me: youre the cup
talLjon78: no
talLjon78: no
me: the other girl is your mom
talLjon78: im not
talLjon78: youre a ruthless player
talLjon78: in the game of hate
talLjon78: i just whispered that in your ear
talLjon78: with a shaky voice
me: hahahha
me: stop it ice-t
me: you fucking whisper threatner
me: stop paying attention to those boots
me: FM.
me: gay poop eater
talLjon78: fm belfast
me: faggotmaggot.
me: hey
me: hey
me: over here
10:50 PM
talLjon78: oh
talLjon78: hey
talLjon78: forgot about jew
me: forget about chew
talLjon78: here comes sis i prob have to go
talLjon78: yep
talLjon78: welp see ya later
talLjon78: big gulp
talLjon78 has gone offline.

Heee-eyy.

Estrogen fever i tell you.
I have been surrounded by vaginas for DAYS.
I feel like I should start a commune where alls we do is discuss feelings and eat snacks.
Sometimes we can mud wrestle.
Sounds sexy!?
It wouldn't be.

So Liv has been assed out since the Great Flood of 2008. Poor gal. Though I have been under the weather, I mustered the energy to put on my "weekend bra" (y'all know) and head over to Rivington Hotel last night. I owe it to her considering I've been MIA when needed.
I made it in good time, DBalls, Mauduler and Lindsey were sitting around in the room being cute and girly. Picture magazines lying around, unkept beds, and Meg Ryanesque outfits. Not really, DBalls is the only Meggy one. NBD ... I like your little brown buckle shoes and baggy winter top! Cutesy!



And of course resident hot bitch Lindsay had her giant New Mexico shaman lady creation wrapped around her, I'm a little jealz I didnt think of it first. If she was a winter cocktail she would be a hot toddy, no questions asked.

Yay, we chat a bit and Mauduler says people who blog have something wrong with them, I agree. Case in point, aherm.

We go downstairs to walk Lindsay out and go to the Liqua Sto' and WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE, Sterp appears, cute as a button. We also go to get some pizza.
Yay!
Cuteness cuteness, look who I'm becoming. Ughhhh I feel kindve like a man who once had balls but was then castrated and now has a little shack in his backyard where he keeps baby birds he rescues.

Somehow I end up defending myself and saying over and over "guys I'm not an alcoholic." No one accused me of being one.
That should imply where the evening was headed.
We drank and talked about girl things and it was really beautiful. My heart sprouted hands and in the hands were paintbrushes that drew rainbows in the air with magic soul paint.





We watched some old clips from Sesame Street and it was happening for real.
Liv had no idea what was going on because she was born an adult. Never a baby, sorry. i think she should undergo hypnosis or just become like Micheal Jackson and try to recapture it all it a very creepy way. Rarr Rarr!
Here are a couple of the faves.
HOLY SHIT THIS TOOK ME BAAAAACK!!!! JELLY MAN KELLY!!!!!!! Jenny can ya come???

MY NAME IS YOU! (new york kiddies!)

PATTI LOVES X



How amazing?

Moving on, I decided I wanted to buy a round of drinks downstairs.
We had already noticed the dbags that were trolling around the bar and I got in a few excellent burns. There was actually a guy outside of the hotel wearing one of those silky shirts a la Hot Topic with the flames on the front. I would also like to make an educated guess that his shoes were from Aldo and he jerks off to internet porn of rottweilers fucking chicks.
I was pretty much unstoppable at that point in terms of shit-talking material. If you would like, I am fully willing to give a reenactment of my impression of him.


so we change our minds ad take a little walk to that weird cavernous hookah spot. i really hate that bar but Sterps roommate works there and cheap drinks are kindve like drunk hookups with quasi-hot dudes. Saying no is harder than you thought. Not a joke. At all.
So we dance to really horrible music I kid you not, the dj played Gnarls Barkley. Ok. Well. I have no follow up joke for that. Its actually just a little sad.
We got some good stuff in there, surprisingly we all shook serious ass to Brit Brit when her new shit came on. I dont know if it was the booze or what but I was feeling it. Fuck you, so was everyone else don't judge me.
As per usual, mad dorks approached and hovered which is the grossest thing ever. Don't hover dude you are throwing it all off. I felt the need to be a bitch and create comedy at their expense.
Also I am starting to hate my wrist tattoo because it is one thing men always ask about. Some guy didn't know what a paisley is (obv a GEDbag) and I suggested he go fuck off and google it. Hm. Nice.
I had masses of fun, Jay was there all dressed up which was kindve weird to see. I have nothing else to say re: Jay because I somehow ended up fighting with him over how much I hate the Chinese people in Chinatown. Apparently that makes me a racist? No, I don't hate them because they are Chinese, i hate them because they are filthy child-beating jerks who spit everywhere and walk absurdly slow at inopportune times. Also, they hate me too. NBD just a fact. Whatever, i apologize for being a racist bitch. Or just a general bitch.

Annnnnnnnnd SCENE.

OK so when we got back to the hotel the most important thing is that I beat Sterp in a wrestling match. Fightin Irish. Psht, legendary.
We tried to take pictures laying on the bed, but most of them ended up looking a bit downsyndrome. Liv was funnier than usual and tied my leggings in some knots while they were on my legs. Nautically saavy. Jokes on Krissy. They were hard to untie.

Summary:
Hotels are fun.
James Taylor is wildly charming.
I'm a racist.
Making jokes at the expense of others never gets old.
The elevator at Riv Hotel is fucking weird. And no, you're not the only one who thinks that the "G" meaning ground floor looks exactly like a 6. Confusion abound. Especially once drunk.
Some men still wear camo visors under the assumption that it looks hip. These people should be rounded up and thrown off of a cliff.
The End.

ZZZZZ

Well, we had a successful Sweet Valley HIGH Council meeting this evening at the gypsyden.
Possible future roommate Ellie stopped by with definite future roommate/twin Katie and creepy cat lady Sam.
jk jk jk nbd.
We tried to order food from Pita Express which i was feeling quite the jones for. Unfortunately Professor Samantha thought THEY were speaking Spanish so she gives the phone to Katie, resident Mexican in training.
No, apparently they are NOT speaking Spanish, makes sense and all since its a Greek place.
No pita for me.
So we get Vietnamese mmmmmmm FUHHHHHHH and spring roll fah two.
yum yum eat eat watch Pretty In Pink swoon over Blaine and Steff.




Also noticed the blatant signs of Jon Cryer's future as a gay man.
btw, basically every actor in that movie sports a pair of black Wayfarers. This movie is NOT where we should be getting our throwback fashions. Note to all of the smart ones who paid $200 for a pair in the LES. I'm not sayin, I'm just sayin.

Smoke eat beers HaHa look at Andy's prom dress! What a clown!



Giggle swoon more, get tired, eat some raw cookie dough balls. Awes. It's a fucking shock I'm single.
I don't get it.

Take a bath, think about the concept of time, think I hear a phone ringing in the couch, I doubt that happening though.
Something weird is going on with these keys.

Forcast: Tomorrow will be rainy, sleepy, and possibly more coherent!






Post Script Ellie is awesome I hope she moves in.

I was pooped.

class in sesh

I thought of Prince on the train this morning. Nothing new, I think of him at least once a day then give MYSELF the speech you have all heard. In my head. About how he is the greatest musician of our time.
I have done college dissertations on his album catalogue.
I have flown to L.A. to see the opening show of his tour.
I have sat front row at MSG pissing myself reveling in the glory that is.
I have stopping liking people solely based on the fact that they "don't get it."
I BELONG. TO HIS FAN CLUB.


Shut up.


I have spend drunken hours playing his shit to people who really really do not want to hear it.
I stop the tracks and lean in close to Person A or Person B, breathing my stank vodka fumes at them and say things like,
"LOOK.
DO YOU FUCKING HEAR THE STRINGS?
DO YOU HEAR THEM?
ONE MAN! ONE MAN. ONE MAN AND A PASSION.
A PASSION YOU COULD ONLY DREAM OF YOU ASSHOLE.

GET OUT OF MY HOUSE DUDE.

YOU OBVIOUSLY DONT GET IT.

FUCKING JERK."

Sometimes I sing too which is totally worse than the speeches. It's just appalling.
My mum played Prince in the house when I was wee. He is literally the man in my life. The smallest sexiest dwarf of a man.
With relaxed hair.
And bitch boots.


Unfortunately, the man has blocked all usage of his material on the internet. Hes a sly fuckin fox!

So in the place of him, I give you a decent runner up.
When I first heard a live recording of just him and a piano, performing this song I was basically like DAMN yeah how COME. HOW. COME.
The perils.
The modern perils.
I feel 16 again.

PS. If you read this post and then skip the video, you're a bigger jerk than I thought.

Go to school on this one.

Ugh.

I'm officially dead to the world post New Years.
2008s gonna be sleepy y'all.
The two high points to my weekend thus far were eating my homemade lentil stew
(WIFE ME)



and watching Enchanted with a nine year old named Emily.
She was an extra in it. i know people for reals.

So yeah, you get fucked up on the final day of the year then you fall off for a few weeks. No big.

I just finished watching some webisodes of this show Quarterlife about a chick that video blogs. Its created by the guy who made My So Called Life so I was expecting it to be So Called Fantastic. it's just kinda predictable.
Speaking of predictions...aherm:

This year I will get just a little fatter. Thats just kinda been my thing since I turned about 20 I guess. Get a little fatter. Shrug it off. Take a walk. Eat some more. Eh. I was on my a-game the other night doing my typical "outside of a bar smoking impromptu stand up routine" to some fairly new acquaintances. It was based on the idea that all 17 year olds will wake up in 3 years with the ill thigh fat like "um, ok whats the joke? How did I get to be my mom since yesterday?" Tough shit. Rub them legs together, start a fire, and do a dance around it. Hopefully that will burn some of the new poundage. My legs at this point look kinda like a fat baby's. All soft and pale and pliable. Tasty. Anyway, me, Katie and Pam were surrounded by teens at this all ages music show last night in which there was Rock. Take note of the capital R. Hilar. Nothing else to say. ALL AGES ROCK SHOW. It's all about the bitter twentysomething mad jealz of the hot teens making out in the corner. Run on home kiddies, its dark outside. I hate you. I hate you and your flaming loins. I hate you and your rosy cheeks and your flat stomachs. I hate your zest for life and your secret energy reserves that kick in at opportune times.
Summary: I'm haggard and pissed about it.

Prediction number two is that I will become more and more skilled at wifely duties and will continue to have no one to bless them with. Not to be a bitch or anything but you dudes have really fallen off. Get a fuckin J-O and step up. I would really like some flowers, or a DATE god forbid. I know its not that attractive for me to be so brazen, but at least you know I'm on the look alive vibe. I am full of zest! You have NO IDEA the shit I will whip up for din din if I know I'm getting a foot rub before bed. I don't even need that much cuddling, I find it suffocating and gross at least half the time. But I'm just getting SO GOOD at cleaning and babying and petting and cooking and nesting. It needs to be put to use. Because my party skills are certainly falling off. I'm basically yawning into shot glasses and shuffling around in flats instead of grinding on the dance flo in stilettos.

Blogging just exhausted me.

Siddown eatcha slice a' pizzer an' be quiet.

Aherm.
I think I am ready to tackle the blog that is New Years Eve.
Jesus H.

To begin, I am unapologetically bossy. So the evening began by me telling Sam and Scott to "hurry up and come over" so I could rush them to Studio B to buy tickets at the door before it was too late. I, of course, had mine already. Control.
Didn't matter. The genuinely mentally disabled "just off the boat" car service driver we had took nearly an hour to get us in "the vicinity" of Banker St. We had to get out and take a cab the rest of the way. Do you see? DO YOU SEE? This is why there is no meshing of the clans of Brooknah and Manhattan. Because of the great vehicular divide.

So we get there.
The doorman stole my water bottle but let Sam keep hers. Good thing because for once, she was the one hiding the vodka. Then some girl stamped my hand and I told her I had to go do some shit, what was the deal with leaving and coming back?
She informed me it was no problem as long as I didn't do too much X and sweat the stamp off.
Ok 1997 doorlady, I'm on tappa theeeat. Thanks.

So we were basically in and out, had to go see the Turkish Delight JJ at Southside Speakeasy and handle some biz. New Years Eve is the official night of "Be right back, gotta go pick something up." Duh.

JJ's tatas were on full display and we drank and drank a bit and the music was super crap. Sorry guys, no Coldplay allowed ever in public. But there were excellent people there so no big.

JJ and Marty Chops.

PS the sign above her head says SHOWERS OF HAPPINESS. Genius.
What happened before we went back to Studio B? Nothing I don't think, but I hadnt seen my girl in ages so it was a treat.

Back at Studio B (this is starting to read like a screenplay)
we found Sterp (the most beautiful girl in a black mini dress wiiiiiiiiiiiink) and got some wristbands which was helpful. VIP is overrated. There are a lot of dbags lolling around thinking being in VIP justifies all of their lameness. No. It doesn't.
Aherm: Fat guy in wife beater. Big Pun was sweatin.

Another lovely surprise, there is the handsome Russian vampire Mikael. Awes. So we sit and drink and drink and Kudu plays some serious gay club shit until midnight I guess when we had the countdown. I couldn't hear a thing for some reason. Clubs hurt.
Ah, at that time, Krista had arrived yay Krista the sweetest girl in this shitty city. I like to talk to her for long periods of time ignoring my surroundings.

Here's Sam and Scott before they started arguing about nothing. Oh Sam. Kiss and make up assholes you know you lurve eachother.
Drum roll. Slick Rick the RULER at midnight or somewheres thereafter. AWES. There was some old school new school shit happening, I was the annoying white girl yelling all of the lyrics. I also elbowed people to get camera phone shots. This is where you stop reading the blog, draw my face on a grapefruit, and pummel it. I am pretty sure I was the biggest asshole around at that point.


"Hi I don't really dance I just wear sequins and keep my shimmering afro sexahhh. No big."

Yada Yada, Slick Rick, bathroom photos OY,

girl talk, cigarette smoking, HEY LETS GO BACK TO SEE JJ!
OK, good idea.
At this point we have spent our life savings on cabs, whats the damage of some more money wasted?
So we walk in the barren wasteland that is Brooknah and run into a giant checkered bastard and his tranny sidekick. Awes.
He looks like Leigh Bowery only far less of a doughy mess. His name is Jordan. And he's creepy.




We get back to Southside Rarr Rarr Rarr, Miss Orlinsky shows up after shooting for Reuters in Times Square, how she escaped that is beyond me.

It's like 3 am and JJ is faced. I remember asking her for a drink and she said no because she couldn't "find it"
Find the drink?
Slow down sister you have to make it, you're the bartender.
Awes.

So more excess. Same story every year until you have kids and you have to pretend to like staying home watching fucking Shrek on DVD.
We shut the bar down I dunno what time I guess 5 something. We go back to JJ's for a night cap/ Ha.
Included in the next few hours is
1. me arguing with a tall puerto rican boy who I named 19 (as in his age from the looks of it)
2. Sam and some dude smooching like little birds
3. Katie passing out early snugged in JJ's bed with not a care in the world
4. JJ giggling about all the beers she took home
5. more JJ giggling as she played that SAME FUCKING SONG she used to play in our apt when she was fucked up....that rap bullshit "something something hammock man, what the fuck is a sammich man?" Ugh. Kill me.
6. I don't remember.

I had fun.
No makeout sesh.
No serious dance fever.
But it was a riot.

Until the following day when I crawled out of Brooknah hoping to be the victim of some stray bullet.





Pammy bitched the whole way back to the LES.


Love,
the girl who ended 2007 with 13 hours of destruction. Hol.Ler.