Tuesday, May 19, 2009

I could name my kid Ladies and Gentlemen if I want to.


I met someone.

But now I'm back.

I don't have anything else to say on that topic so lets all just move on, shall we?

This is awkward......

I was also totally jobless for a few weeks there and was so beyond depressed I forgot how to drink, forgot how to write, forgot how to get along with people, and forgot how to get up before noon.
I don't think I realized my whole life was changing right before my very eyes, like going through puberty and getting your period in gym class.
There is a relation, I'm just not sure if its all that direct.

I don't even know what I want to blog about.
I don't even know if I remember how to blog.
Brace yourselves.

For starters, summer will begin soon.
Washington Square Park looks amazing and sounds amazing and today I saw Matthew Modine riding an orange bike around the fountain.
He is both taller and sexier than I had previously assumed.
The Deenster (what I am going to secretly call him)
is not in the fountain picture, but use your imagination plus this recent picture from some New York publication of Deenster on said ugly bike.

Part of me wants to discuss what he was wearing today and how his hair was darker, but I think I have already devoted too much energy to a C list celebrity and his jaunt in the park.

New topic.
Madonna, your boyfriend is a teenage homosexual and you are a senior citizen wearing school girl collars.
Please abort your mission to be the grossest woman on the planet right nyah.

Oh wait, I'm sorry, to be the grossest woman on the planet you would have to be wearing these:

I feel like those are used 'sexually'
and that makes me uncomfs.


Ew second trimester pregnant centaur hippie reading the news.
You look like you are made of dough covered in fleece.
I hate you very much.
You do not qualify and one of the 'coolest homemade costumes' as your website implies.

Time for another shitty famous person story.
This is a table full of old ladies who I assumed to be lesbionics, at Max Fish:

I could sit here for the rest of my life trying to determine why these people would ever be at Max Fish in the first place, but that is of little consequence.
The only thing that matters is that moments after taking this picture, they have to squeeze together a lil bit to make room for their pal coming to the table.
Cathy Mitchell?


Josh Hartnett.
Josh Hot-nett.
So Hot-nett sits with these women who he is apparently besties with, or maybe hes fucking all of their daughters I don't know.
It was weird and that is the end of that story.
Also weird, Tally Dead Dead came into the city that night and met Molly for the first time.
This is only something you would care about if you were one of the two of them.
But it was exciting and they are both tall.
And they both sort of look like mice.

I should get in the shower right now because Porto is coming over so we can buy dinner ingredients from Pathmark with her food stamps.
But I have more things to talk about I think.

This is who I spend my mornings with now:

If you give me a soft thing with fabric of many colors, I will look at it for 6-8 seconds I think. Then I will put it down and it will not have changed anything about my existence.
Judging by le behebeh's expression, I do not think we could say the same for him.
His head is very large and his feet very small.
He is one of the cutest things I have ever seen, even surpassing those pictures of chimps hugging kittens or otters kissing.
Those of you who have previously wondered why I continue to be a nanny, there you go.

end of story.

On a more terrifying note.
Chinatown continues to fail.

Capsizing buildings?
No big whoop.
Just rope off Pike Street for a week or so and hope the giant pieces of concrete teetering don't drop on the commoners.

This blog is now over and I am going to get ready to do this:

I shall return, this time with shorter blog hiatus.


No comments: