For all of you out there who think I am anti-Semitic as well as anti-color...here is definitive proof otherwise. Go here and click the "Watch Sample Movie" link in the middle of the page.
Guido, Guido uber alles...
9.30.2005
9.28.2005
And why is it a good day Paul?
Because I just discovered that on Tuesday, October 18 THE ORIGINAL TIM BURTON BATMAN IS FINALLY BEING RELEASED IN PROPER FORM ON DELUXE DVD! Commentary by Burton, Behind the Scenes and Featurettes and...the Prince videos for Partyman, Batdance and Scandalous. I knew they were waiting for SOMETHING, I guess the creation and release of a redeeming Batman movie was it. Fucking rock.
Also, I am about to get dressed, head down to J&R and obtain 5.1.
A good day indeed.
Party all the time.
Also, I am about to get dressed, head down to J&R and obtain 5.1.
A good day indeed.
Party all the time.
9.23.2005
Emotional Chex Mix
9.23.05
1:38 PM
What the fuck is up with Greenday?
Anyway, today is a day full of mixed emotions: First, Phil is leaving tomorrow.
Second, I am going to pick up my Charlie & The Chocolate Factory check.
Third, Corpse Bride is released today. The third is mixed in itself because a. I want it to be good but b. it won’t be.
Next week will involve the spending of some money. Some interesting video games have been released recently, the Family Guy movie is coming out on Tuesday and by the end of November, I plan to have a 5.1 system for the living room. The ugly baby will die from shock.
Also, by the end of next week, “Side Effects” should be completed and ready to show (this week I shifted my work schedule so I could spend some hang time with Spider Food. As a bonus, I get to spend some QT with the Middle Tucker and the second Aussie I have ever met, Kat. The first time I met her…let’s just say her first impression was bad. This time around it’s much better.
If I am in the City for New Year’s I plan to attend the They Might Be Giant’s New Year’s Eve show in BKLYN. It will be the first TMBG New Year’s show and I am stoked at the possibility.
On a graver note: Josh, Christina (A) and Dorothy (who don’t read this) get your shit together with your Bite the Music submissions. C and D, I don’t think it could possibly take someone a month to move into anywhere and Josh, whatever your reason is, we can work around it, so stop using that as an excuse. Gia, I know your computer is little more than an abacus with blinking lights on it, but you said the 30th and to the 30th ye shall be held. Jade, we look forward to your submission.
Phil, Will, Chris and I are very disappointed with you and all of your various excuses. It’s compiling a compact disc containing 80 minutes of music not rocket science. If you guys don’t want to be bothered with it, simply comply to rule #8 (I think it’s #8) from the Bite the Music rules and cough up the $20. As Will said, we’d rather receive the CD, but if you’re all just going to half or no ass it and just expect us to put time, money and effort into our submissions, then fuck ya. Pay us. Sorry to be the dick, but all of us feel this way and I’m the loud one, so we just thought putting two and two together would work out. Then again, posting this here (or on the official site) is something of a moot exercise seeing as that three of you don’t read either, one of you is using a broken rock as a computer and Jade is actually near completion of her work. Futile xmax, folks, futile and disappointing xmax.
1:38 PM
What the fuck is up with Greenday?
Anyway, today is a day full of mixed emotions: First, Phil is leaving tomorrow.
Second, I am going to pick up my Charlie & The Chocolate Factory check.
Third, Corpse Bride is released today. The third is mixed in itself because a. I want it to be good but b. it won’t be.
Next week will involve the spending of some money. Some interesting video games have been released recently, the Family Guy movie is coming out on Tuesday and by the end of November, I plan to have a 5.1 system for the living room. The ugly baby will die from shock.
Also, by the end of next week, “Side Effects” should be completed and ready to show (this week I shifted my work schedule so I could spend some hang time with Spider Food. As a bonus, I get to spend some QT with the Middle Tucker and the second Aussie I have ever met, Kat. The first time I met her…let’s just say her first impression was bad. This time around it’s much better.
If I am in the City for New Year’s I plan to attend the They Might Be Giant’s New Year’s Eve show in BKLYN. It will be the first TMBG New Year’s show and I am stoked at the possibility.
On a graver note: Josh, Christina (A) and Dorothy (who don’t read this) get your shit together with your Bite the Music submissions. C and D, I don’t think it could possibly take someone a month to move into anywhere and Josh, whatever your reason is, we can work around it, so stop using that as an excuse. Gia, I know your computer is little more than an abacus with blinking lights on it, but you said the 30th and to the 30th ye shall be held. Jade, we look forward to your submission.
Phil, Will, Chris and I are very disappointed with you and all of your various excuses. It’s compiling a compact disc containing 80 minutes of music not rocket science. If you guys don’t want to be bothered with it, simply comply to rule #8 (I think it’s #8) from the Bite the Music rules and cough up the $20. As Will said, we’d rather receive the CD, but if you’re all just going to half or no ass it and just expect us to put time, money and effort into our submissions, then fuck ya. Pay us. Sorry to be the dick, but all of us feel this way and I’m the loud one, so we just thought putting two and two together would work out. Then again, posting this here (or on the official site) is something of a moot exercise seeing as that three of you don’t read either, one of you is using a broken rock as a computer and Jade is actually near completion of her work. Futile xmax, folks, futile and disappointing xmax.
Red Bull gives you osmotic shits
So in July I did that Red Bull thing. Here, finally, is my journal from that night. Prepare to be disgusted, worried and disappointed...
*****
7.1.05
11:29 PM
Just finished my first can of Red Bull.
Tonight I am working the 11p to 7a shift at the Hospital. For some reason, Phil, Will and myself thought that it would be a good idea if I drank one can of Red Bull every half hour for the whole night (and, surprise surprise, Christina thinks this is \b not\b0 a good idea). I've only had two cans in my life at this point.
Here are the stats (the important ones anyway): The main ingredient in Red Bull is Taurine. "Taurine" is the slick, commercial name for something or other amino acid created by Red Bull. Get it? TAURine...TAURus...Bull... No? Idiot.
So here is some information about Taurine. It is found in bile and human breast milk. In the MSDB it is listed as an irritant and if ingested, the MSDB advises that you rinse your mouth out. It is attributed to congestive heart failure, diabetes, epilepsy and cystic fibrosis. The LD50 (Lethal Dose 50- which is the amount that after which consumed, half of those that consumed it died) is figured out as such...for lab rats. For every kilogram one weighs, they can handle five times that many grams of taurine. In other words, although this doesn't really apply to humans, I weight roughly 109kg and should therefore be able to ingest about 545 grams of taurine. Each can contains one gram of taurine so I should be fine.Drinking 16 cans of Red Bull is the equivalent of drinking 16 cups of coffee or 40 cans of Coke. There is about a pound of sugar in 16 cans. I've finished one can and have 17 minutes to finish the second. Throughout the night I am going to describe how I feel and if it works for staving off Mr. Sandman.
11:50 PM
My heart rate is 96 beats per minute (BPM)
12:04 AM
Just got off the phone with Dr. Drew Pomerantz (Will's brother) who is hanging out with two other chemists. They all agree that that a mere 16 grams of taurine is not going to be enough to topple this juggernaut. They also agree that a heart rate of 96 BPM for a human at rest is above average. Hm.
Also, just opened number three.
Heart rate is 90 BPM.
12:42 AM
My hands have picked up the slightest tremble. Heart rate is now 80 BPM. Can # 4.
1:00 AM
1/4 finished with the experiment and nothing really drastic has occurred. 4 cans in 2 hours. Slight tremble still slight. Saliva feels a bit thick but not unpleasant. So far, I am a golden god. Heart rate is now 84 BPM.
Average heart rate is 87.5 BPM.
1:07 AM
Saliva tasted a bit odd for a moment. Back to normal now.
1:32 AM
Finished fifth can. Drink now has slightly medicine-y taste. Tummy hurts a bit.
Going on break.
2:10 AM
I feel like there are sparks in my veins.Slight tremble is now more pronounced.
2:22 AM
Waves passing through my body. Several waves. Opening # 7.
3:49 AM
Lights appear brighter than usual. Also, my sense of smell has become ultra sensitive. I think the taurine is affecting my autonomic system. Pupils dilated more than usual.
Number nine. Number nine. Number nine. Number nine.
After taking a moment to consider the effects so far, I must say that what I'm experiencing is not unlike what I usually experience during my graveyard shifts. Earlier, Will and I were discussing why exactly I was doing this. I mentioned it was to test my boundaries. Will said that that would face us with a logical paradox. What paradox is that, I asked. That you have boundaries, replied Will. I thought for a moment and rephrased my statement. All right then, I am testing the absence of boundaries. That phrase is brilliant and copyrighted as of right now for Cat's Lair Industries. My slogan still remains: Sursly? Sursly. Here comes number ten..........
4:11 AM
11 minutes behind on can 11. Don't think my body wants anymore. Well guess what body...brain is in charge. Yes, Common Sense is still working, but Mr. Curiosity is bigger than common Sense and you have six more cans in your very immediate future. HA! Fucker. Yag.
4:51 AM
I have four Red Bulls left and I am considering just pounding all four in one go to get them out of the way. No major changes at all. Just a persistent queasy feeling in my stomach. What a waste of money. Sheesh. I feel like doing this with some other substance would have been more exciting. Like cocaine. Next time. I'll do a line every half hour. Hm. Jesus.
5:04 AM
I am not going to do this ever again.
*****
As a result of this whole thing, I awoke the next morning unable to hear out of my right ear. The condition persisted for about two days.
*****
7.1.05
11:29 PM
Just finished my first can of Red Bull.
Tonight I am working the 11p to 7a shift at the Hospital. For some reason, Phil, Will and myself thought that it would be a good idea if I drank one can of Red Bull every half hour for the whole night (and, surprise surprise, Christina thinks this is \b not\b0 a good idea). I've only had two cans in my life at this point.
Here are the stats (the important ones anyway): The main ingredient in Red Bull is Taurine. "Taurine" is the slick, commercial name for something or other amino acid created by Red Bull. Get it? TAURine...TAURus...Bull... No? Idiot.
So here is some information about Taurine. It is found in bile and human breast milk. In the MSDB it is listed as an irritant and if ingested, the MSDB advises that you rinse your mouth out. It is attributed to congestive heart failure, diabetes, epilepsy and cystic fibrosis. The LD50 (Lethal Dose 50- which is the amount that after which consumed, half of those that consumed it died) is figured out as such...for lab rats. For every kilogram one weighs, they can handle five times that many grams of taurine. In other words, although this doesn't really apply to humans, I weight roughly 109kg and should therefore be able to ingest about 545 grams of taurine. Each can contains one gram of taurine so I should be fine.Drinking 16 cans of Red Bull is the equivalent of drinking 16 cups of coffee or 40 cans of Coke. There is about a pound of sugar in 16 cans. I've finished one can and have 17 minutes to finish the second. Throughout the night I am going to describe how I feel and if it works for staving off Mr. Sandman.
11:50 PM
My heart rate is 96 beats per minute (BPM)
12:04 AM
Just got off the phone with Dr. Drew Pomerantz (Will's brother) who is hanging out with two other chemists. They all agree that that a mere 16 grams of taurine is not going to be enough to topple this juggernaut. They also agree that a heart rate of 96 BPM for a human at rest is above average. Hm.
Also, just opened number three.
Heart rate is 90 BPM.
12:42 AM
My hands have picked up the slightest tremble. Heart rate is now 80 BPM. Can # 4.
1:00 AM
1/4 finished with the experiment and nothing really drastic has occurred. 4 cans in 2 hours. Slight tremble still slight. Saliva feels a bit thick but not unpleasant. So far, I am a golden god. Heart rate is now 84 BPM.
Average heart rate is 87.5 BPM.
1:07 AM
Saliva tasted a bit odd for a moment. Back to normal now.
1:32 AM
Finished fifth can. Drink now has slightly medicine-y taste. Tummy hurts a bit.
Going on break.
2:10 AM
I feel like there are sparks in my veins.Slight tremble is now more pronounced.
2:22 AM
Waves passing through my body. Several waves. Opening # 7.
3:49 AM
Lights appear brighter than usual. Also, my sense of smell has become ultra sensitive. I think the taurine is affecting my autonomic system. Pupils dilated more than usual.
Number nine. Number nine. Number nine. Number nine.
After taking a moment to consider the effects so far, I must say that what I'm experiencing is not unlike what I usually experience during my graveyard shifts. Earlier, Will and I were discussing why exactly I was doing this. I mentioned it was to test my boundaries. Will said that that would face us with a logical paradox. What paradox is that, I asked. That you have boundaries, replied Will. I thought for a moment and rephrased my statement. All right then, I am testing the absence of boundaries. That phrase is brilliant and copyrighted as of right now for Cat's Lair Industries. My slogan still remains: Sursly? Sursly. Here comes number ten..........
4:11 AM
11 minutes behind on can 11. Don't think my body wants anymore. Well guess what body...brain is in charge. Yes, Common Sense is still working, but Mr. Curiosity is bigger than common Sense and you have six more cans in your very immediate future. HA! Fucker. Yag.
4:51 AM
I have four Red Bulls left and I am considering just pounding all four in one go to get them out of the way. No major changes at all. Just a persistent queasy feeling in my stomach. What a waste of money. Sheesh. I feel like doing this with some other substance would have been more exciting. Like cocaine. Next time. I'll do a line every half hour. Hm. Jesus.
5:04 AM
I am not going to do this ever again.
*****
As a result of this whole thing, I awoke the next morning unable to hear out of my right ear. The condition persisted for about two days.
9.21.2005
Rekka Stowe...Rekka Stowe!!!
9.21.05
3:34 PM
This is what I wrote right after the girls showed up on Friday evening.
**********************************************************
9.16.05
10:07 PM
The Lesbians just showed up. T.J. seemed very happy to see me, Lucy (Tinnea’s guest, sort of piggish with large breasts) seemed shocked at my height…like…reallyshocked at my height, as in, staring from my feet to my head and back again three times shocked. Tinnea (the male, to be sure) is exactly what I feared. She looked at me as if I were dog shit. Why? I have no clue. Then again, why am I one of the only four people attending the ceremony? I don’t know. Why do I feel the most awkward I have ever felt in my entire life? I DON’T KNOW. Friends, I am very worried. This is the equivalent of female intuition and it scares me. Shit, Tinnea scares me. I mean, her name is Tinnea (ti-NEE-ah) but she looks like a Madison. Tonight, Lauren will be my Rock and my Redeemer and my Savior all in one. Both my girlfriend and my best friend have left me at the whims of the Lesbians. Those sadistic ratfink bastards. Lauren is my one beacon in this bog. Oh Christ is this weekend going to be awkward. The way she looked at me! SHE’S FUCKING HUGE! I’m afraid for myself. Why does she seem to hate me so much? Did T.J. tell her something I don’t know? Is she a stereotypical man-hating dyke like the books and movies portray? Does she think T.J. (who I have seen in person for the first time in 5 motherfucking years) likes me better than her? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? To be brutally honest: I’m not that attractive and SHE’S A GODDAMN LESBIAN! HOW IN THE SOPPING FUCK WOULD SHE EVER LIKE ME MORE THAN THAT PIGCOW OF A WOMAN? Maybe I answered my own question, but still, if you’re marrying someone you should love them for what’s inside and not care that they look like a morbidly obese manatee. Fuck. Jesus Fuck. Jesus F. Christ. Why can’t my Marfaans kick in and make my heart explode right now? Why oh why do I talk to people ever? This is a serious blow against the case for me ever going outside of my apartment again. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING??!?!??!?!
Okay…breathe. Count to ten and breathe. All right. I reached six and a decision. Worst case scenario (worst realistic case scenario…) we sit in an awkward silence from tonight through the drive to Vermont, through the ceremony, through the ride back. Actually, I think the worst case scenario is that T.J. asks to dance with me at the club and Tinnea sticks a shiv in me. Oh God.
Maybe I’ll try flattering Tinnea.
Or feeding her fish heads.
::SHUDDER::
***************************************************************
Ladies and gentlemen, that is what we call “Panic”.
Here’s how things got worse, and then better…
I arrived at home to find neither Phil nor Chris there. I was very, very nervous and once the girls got settled in, they all took seats in the living room and I tried conversation; to let them do most of the talking, I asked questions, all the while getting uberhostile vibes from Tinnea. Then, Lucy answers her cell phone and proceeds to inform us that the guy she was going to meet at the club (Lauren had invited me to Avalon as her body man since Ray would be shooting footage for the DJ’s there that night) would be meeting at my place. I say that’s fine and start sweating profusely. I head the kitchen and start doing the stack of dishes we have accrued over that week, talking and not listening to myself because at this point, my brain was on Lev. 19 of Panic and the best ting for me to do in cases like that is to separate my brain from my the rest of me so in case I die or explode, my disembodied mind with haunt the location of my overload. Anyway, I finish the dishes and go to wash my hands, when I come out there are three Puerto Ricans in my vestibule, one making out with Lucy. The one sucking Lucy’s face pulls off and looks at me in comical surprise. I realize that the one sucking Lucy’s face and the other two are together. I invite them all in, somehow even sweatier than before, and introductions are made. Lucy’s friend Luis Colon (AKA “Champ”) brought along his two friends Hector Gonzales (I fucking shit you not, Hector Gonzales) and Yomairra Malve to club. “Champ” and Lucy have wanted to fuck each other for months now and the other two are just along for the ride. The three who just arrived are from Bronx. Hector has a dirt ‘stache, “Champ” has three gold teef and Yomairra is dressed like a whore. I smile wildly and herd everyone into the living room. There is a solid minute of silence (and Champ and Lucy sucking face) as people sit, staring at each other. Then, my brain shatters. I hit Panic Level ‘White Hot’ and the world disappears in front of me. I start talking. I tell stories, I make jokes, I take things that are said to me and relate them to hilarious occurrences in my life or the lives of my friends. At one point, fifteen minutes into my cranial evacuation, my cell rings and it’s Lauren…telling me she’ll be another half hour. A tear slips from my eye as I beg her to hurry. I hang up and turn back to the crowd of five total strangers and one regular stranger: They all look expectantly at me. My brain catapults out my skull for another twenty minutes. Then…I hear a key in the door. It’s my friend, Sal…as in Sal “Motherloving” Vation. Phil steps into the apartment and I hurry him into the crowded living room. I introduce him around and wait for things to get better. He turns to me and says, “I feel sick. I’m going to bed.”
[expletive deleted]
With the betterment of my situation whipped from under my nose, I silently remind myself to call a bomb threat to the airport on the day of Phil’s departure or maybe just blow the fucking thing up myself.
I begin to talk again when Lauren arrives. If she wasn’t with Ray and I weren’t with Chris and she were less hot and I was more hot, I would have kissed her; instead, I just told her I was in Hell. Her cool, blue gaze took my Panic and rubbed lotion on it. I started breathing for the first time in an hour and we entered the living room.
Soon after, we went outside to hit the clubs. I informed everyone that cover would be $30, hoping they would just do something else and I could hang with Ray and Lauren all night. Sadly, no, that was real gold in Champ’s mouf and these Lesbians were ready to partake in some hot girl-on-club action. Tinnea, T.J., Lauren and I hop in one cab and speed off towards Avalon. I sit in the front and unwind a bit on the long drive through the New York night. Lauren, who, it seems, is merely talking to Tinnea and T.J., is actually collecting psychoanalytical data on them like I asked.
We arrive at the club and go in. Everyone goes to dance but Lauren and I, who look for Ray. The night gets noticeably better. This room of Avalon is ruled by two DJ’s who are sort of battling. One is house/trance and the other is more experimental but both have excellent stuff they’re spinning. After a while just standing on the upper level of the club watching the people dance, we set out to find the “Dance Rock” room. We find the “Hp Hop” room and the vibe gets nasty reeeal quick. I can almost hear the thought “White boy talla then me? Fuck dat shit! I’m a bump him!” I take several Negroes to the chest before we manage our way out of the “Hip Hop” room and make out way to some crazy staircase. On our way up we find Lucy, Tinnea and T.J. We stumble into some room with large comfy couches and what I would call “regular techno” playing. I suggest we head in for some hot Paul-on-couch action while T.J. and Tinnea start making out like fiends. Then Champ shows up and starts doing the same with Lucy. Lauren and I gag and coo respectively at how disgusting Lucy/Champ are and how cute Tinnea/T.J. are. Eventually, Lauren set off again for the “Dance Rock” room not knowing we were just there and soon we find Ray who is set to be there until 4am. It is now 1:50 or so and Lauren and I already have splendid headaches. Slowly but surely we gather everyone and decide to head out to a food location while Ray finishes doing his thang. Champ finds out that Lucy is too tired to have sex with him tonight and then “remembers” that he has work tomorrow (Saturday) and goes home, leaving Lucy in tears. Hector and Yomairra disappeared earlier and that’s ducky with me. Lauren and the three girls head out and find a diner. Lucy is sulking and Lauren takes the brunt of the conversation with Teej and Tinnea. Around four, we head back and meet up with Ray. The girls and I get in and cab and Lauren and Ray do the same. I sit up front again and unwind again. This night got much better as it went on, but the start? I am very surprised to even be in the cab. I was certain I would be killed by either stress or a Negro in the “Hip Hop” room.
My cab and Lauren’s arrive on our block at around the same time. And I say goodnight to the two if them before they head home in Lauren’s car.
That night I slept badly on Chris’ bed. I feel sorry for her and myself at the same time. Multitasking xmax.
Before I sleep though, Chris informs me as to why T.J. asked me and only me to be at her wedding. T.J. said that when she met me all those years ago, I made such a memorable impression on her that she never forgot me and that I was the one person she wanted at her ceremony for that reason. If I had been able to sleep, I would have fallen asleep with a smile on my face.
I woke up with the idea for an excellent and terrifying video game involving zombies. If any of you are genuinely interested, let me know, I’ll share it with you.
My only plan for Saturday was lunch with Ray and hanging out/dinner with Phil and Min. I let the girls do their own touristy thing. Lunch with Ray wet off without a hitch and then I went home and took a nap, waiting for Phil to call me with plans. I woke up around 11 when the girls were returning home. Neither Phil nor Min had called nor were they answering their phones. Hm. Fine. After discussing watching a movie, I went to bed in Chris’ room.
Another fitful night, but this time without zombie dreams. Rats.
Fast forward to the car trip, because that is when everything changed…
Over the course of the six plus hour car trip from Manhattan to Stowe, Vermont, I figured everythingout. These girls all hail from tiny, little narrow minded towns in upstate New York. Specifically, Elmira and Corning. They have done less traveling than me and it shows. The first two days, I thought they were a bit…stupid to be honest and mean, but as I spent every single hour of the next three days with them, I learned differently. They have this innocence and naiveté that makes them appear that way. Once I understood that, I adapted and everything was just fine. I was able to switch to Actor Mode and let everything else just flow over me like fresh Maple Syrup. They were just impressed by me. Everything I said or did they thought was hilarious. It was like hanging around with a bunch of 14 year old girls. Part of it was their immaturity, but most of it was this beautiful, heartbreaking innocence that found a place in my heart the instant I discovered that’s what I was looking at. I wanted them to keep living their covered, protected lives in their tiny, little town where they are all each other will ever need. I want their ignorance to be converted directly into bliss. And I believe that’s the case. They are happy where they are and that makes me happy. The thing is, I grew up in New York City and moved to Florida where I saw pretty much everyone as an intellectual inferior. I mean, between the accent, the jaws dropped when they heard I was from New York and the fact that the Dean of my high school was made Dean because HE USED TO PLAY COLLEGE BALL WITH THE GATORS!! WOOOO WEEEE!! But there is something different about the numerous idiots I encountered in Florida and these girls. While the people in Florida were the kind of stupid you just want to smack, the girls had this kind of oblivious joy that you wanted to take part in, and as soon as I did, I started to enjoy myself.
As for enjoying myself, I did, utterly. In fact, I am going to bring Chris and Lauren and Ray back to Vermont (the Green Mountain state) to the same bed and breakfast (owned by two gay guys named (look it up on their web site for the Timberholm Inn in Stowe, VT) Mr. Drill and Mr. Pitstick) so they can share the bucolic cup from which I drank the whole time I was there. It was incredibly beautiful, ridiculously charming and the Cabot cheddar? I believe it will make even Lauren like cheese. Also, there is a gay bar called The Rusty Nail and a lesbian bar called Pie in the Sky. ‘Nuff said. All in all the only two bad spots were sharing a teeny tiny bed with a chatty, impressionable, sycophantic 18 year old. She was friendly as hell but talked at me for 44 minutes (from 12:00AM to 12:44AM) about her life. In a way, it was really sweet, but in another way I wanted to stick her into her own vagina to shut her up. The first night wasn’t so bad because we had all gotten a tad bit sloshed and alcohol puts Lucy to sleep, but that second night…oy. Plus, the bed was very small.
The second bad spot was the return trip. The nine-hour return trip on a train from Waterbury, Vermont to Penn Station making local stops everyfuckingwhere. Although I will say the train is ten billion times better than the bus and the train was only a half hour longer and four dollars more expensive. Will, if there is a similar deal on a train to D.C. you might see more of me…
In the end, it was a beautiful, touching, serene time that I was surprised to find myself enjoying wholeheartedly. I found Lucy was not a little whore, but a good hearted naive girl who loves animals, T.J. (whose last name I now know) is much less of a stranger and I see in her a kindness I have never known in anyone except maybe Angie or Angelica. I don’t know many people who would deserve the kind of loyal friend she is, myself included. Tinnea is still a bit imposing, but she is loving person who is going to kick anyone’s ass that chooses to fuck with T.J. She too, loves animals and it was hard to see her as a menacing bulldyke when she was playing with a Beagle puppy at an animal shelter we visited. Honestly, I felt like a different person while I was there. I amazed myself several times by having no cynicism for hours at a time. I saw cows, horses, mountains, corn, the Ben & Jerry’s Factory and the Vermont Teddy Bear Factory (which was a tad saccharine even in this setting). Still…how do I spell “unwind”? A lesbian wedding in Stowe, Vermont. Xmax.
8:22 PM
I just told this woman who always keeps pressing the button in her room that makes my panel beep to stop pressing the button or no one would come in and she stopped. Does that make me effective or bad?
8:27 PM
I was just reflecting; if I had a set destination (place to sleep, etc.) and time (week or two) and money (enough to be able to miss a week or two of work and not care), I would love to travel. The less people at that destination the better. I think in Vermont I saw maybe fifty people. Fifty people in three days, and all of them were polite. It was crazy. It was a little like that in D.C. Is New York really that overcrowded? When I got out of Penn Station at 6:30 PM yesterday, the city was understandably full, but is New York that overcrowded compared to those other places? Jesus.
3:34 PM
This is what I wrote right after the girls showed up on Friday evening.
**********************************************************
9.16.05
10:07 PM
The Lesbians just showed up. T.J. seemed very happy to see me, Lucy (Tinnea’s guest, sort of piggish with large breasts) seemed shocked at my height…like…reallyshocked at my height, as in, staring from my feet to my head and back again three times shocked. Tinnea (the male, to be sure) is exactly what I feared. She looked at me as if I were dog shit. Why? I have no clue. Then again, why am I one of the only four people attending the ceremony? I don’t know. Why do I feel the most awkward I have ever felt in my entire life? I DON’T KNOW. Friends, I am very worried. This is the equivalent of female intuition and it scares me. Shit, Tinnea scares me. I mean, her name is Tinnea (ti-NEE-ah) but she looks like a Madison. Tonight, Lauren will be my Rock and my Redeemer and my Savior all in one. Both my girlfriend and my best friend have left me at the whims of the Lesbians. Those sadistic ratfink bastards. Lauren is my one beacon in this bog. Oh Christ is this weekend going to be awkward. The way she looked at me! SHE’S FUCKING HUGE! I’m afraid for myself. Why does she seem to hate me so much? Did T.J. tell her something I don’t know? Is she a stereotypical man-hating dyke like the books and movies portray? Does she think T.J. (who I have seen in person for the first time in 5 motherfucking years) likes me better than her? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? To be brutally honest: I’m not that attractive and SHE’S A GODDAMN LESBIAN! HOW IN THE SOPPING FUCK WOULD SHE EVER LIKE ME MORE THAN THAT PIGCOW OF A WOMAN? Maybe I answered my own question, but still, if you’re marrying someone you should love them for what’s inside and not care that they look like a morbidly obese manatee. Fuck. Jesus Fuck. Jesus F. Christ. Why can’t my Marfaans kick in and make my heart explode right now? Why oh why do I talk to people ever? This is a serious blow against the case for me ever going outside of my apartment again. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING??!?!??!?!
Okay…breathe. Count to ten and breathe. All right. I reached six and a decision. Worst case scenario (worst realistic case scenario…) we sit in an awkward silence from tonight through the drive to Vermont, through the ceremony, through the ride back. Actually, I think the worst case scenario is that T.J. asks to dance with me at the club and Tinnea sticks a shiv in me. Oh God.
Maybe I’ll try flattering Tinnea.
Or feeding her fish heads.
::SHUDDER::
***************************************************************
Ladies and gentlemen, that is what we call “Panic”.
Here’s how things got worse, and then better…
I arrived at home to find neither Phil nor Chris there. I was very, very nervous and once the girls got settled in, they all took seats in the living room and I tried conversation; to let them do most of the talking, I asked questions, all the while getting uberhostile vibes from Tinnea. Then, Lucy answers her cell phone and proceeds to inform us that the guy she was going to meet at the club (Lauren had invited me to Avalon as her body man since Ray would be shooting footage for the DJ’s there that night) would be meeting at my place. I say that’s fine and start sweating profusely. I head the kitchen and start doing the stack of dishes we have accrued over that week, talking and not listening to myself because at this point, my brain was on Lev. 19 of Panic and the best ting for me to do in cases like that is to separate my brain from my the rest of me so in case I die or explode, my disembodied mind with haunt the location of my overload. Anyway, I finish the dishes and go to wash my hands, when I come out there are three Puerto Ricans in my vestibule, one making out with Lucy. The one sucking Lucy’s face pulls off and looks at me in comical surprise. I realize that the one sucking Lucy’s face and the other two are together. I invite them all in, somehow even sweatier than before, and introductions are made. Lucy’s friend Luis Colon (AKA “Champ”) brought along his two friends Hector Gonzales (I fucking shit you not, Hector Gonzales) and Yomairra Malve to club. “Champ” and Lucy have wanted to fuck each other for months now and the other two are just along for the ride. The three who just arrived are from Bronx. Hector has a dirt ‘stache, “Champ” has three gold teef and Yomairra is dressed like a whore. I smile wildly and herd everyone into the living room. There is a solid minute of silence (and Champ and Lucy sucking face) as people sit, staring at each other. Then, my brain shatters. I hit Panic Level ‘White Hot’ and the world disappears in front of me. I start talking. I tell stories, I make jokes, I take things that are said to me and relate them to hilarious occurrences in my life or the lives of my friends. At one point, fifteen minutes into my cranial evacuation, my cell rings and it’s Lauren…telling me she’ll be another half hour. A tear slips from my eye as I beg her to hurry. I hang up and turn back to the crowd of five total strangers and one regular stranger: They all look expectantly at me. My brain catapults out my skull for another twenty minutes. Then…I hear a key in the door. It’s my friend, Sal…as in Sal “Motherloving” Vation. Phil steps into the apartment and I hurry him into the crowded living room. I introduce him around and wait for things to get better. He turns to me and says, “I feel sick. I’m going to bed.”
[expletive deleted]
With the betterment of my situation whipped from under my nose, I silently remind myself to call a bomb threat to the airport on the day of Phil’s departure or maybe just blow the fucking thing up myself.
I begin to talk again when Lauren arrives. If she wasn’t with Ray and I weren’t with Chris and she were less hot and I was more hot, I would have kissed her; instead, I just told her I was in Hell. Her cool, blue gaze took my Panic and rubbed lotion on it. I started breathing for the first time in an hour and we entered the living room.
Soon after, we went outside to hit the clubs. I informed everyone that cover would be $30, hoping they would just do something else and I could hang with Ray and Lauren all night. Sadly, no, that was real gold in Champ’s mouf and these Lesbians were ready to partake in some hot girl-on-club action. Tinnea, T.J., Lauren and I hop in one cab and speed off towards Avalon. I sit in the front and unwind a bit on the long drive through the New York night. Lauren, who, it seems, is merely talking to Tinnea and T.J., is actually collecting psychoanalytical data on them like I asked.
We arrive at the club and go in. Everyone goes to dance but Lauren and I, who look for Ray. The night gets noticeably better. This room of Avalon is ruled by two DJ’s who are sort of battling. One is house/trance and the other is more experimental but both have excellent stuff they’re spinning. After a while just standing on the upper level of the club watching the people dance, we set out to find the “Dance Rock” room. We find the “Hp Hop” room and the vibe gets nasty reeeal quick. I can almost hear the thought “White boy talla then me? Fuck dat shit! I’m a bump him!” I take several Negroes to the chest before we manage our way out of the “Hip Hop” room and make out way to some crazy staircase. On our way up we find Lucy, Tinnea and T.J. We stumble into some room with large comfy couches and what I would call “regular techno” playing. I suggest we head in for some hot Paul-on-couch action while T.J. and Tinnea start making out like fiends. Then Champ shows up and starts doing the same with Lucy. Lauren and I gag and coo respectively at how disgusting Lucy/Champ are and how cute Tinnea/T.J. are. Eventually, Lauren set off again for the “Dance Rock” room not knowing we were just there and soon we find Ray who is set to be there until 4am. It is now 1:50 or so and Lauren and I already have splendid headaches. Slowly but surely we gather everyone and decide to head out to a food location while Ray finishes doing his thang. Champ finds out that Lucy is too tired to have sex with him tonight and then “remembers” that he has work tomorrow (Saturday) and goes home, leaving Lucy in tears. Hector and Yomairra disappeared earlier and that’s ducky with me. Lauren and the three girls head out and find a diner. Lucy is sulking and Lauren takes the brunt of the conversation with Teej and Tinnea. Around four, we head back and meet up with Ray. The girls and I get in and cab and Lauren and Ray do the same. I sit up front again and unwind again. This night got much better as it went on, but the start? I am very surprised to even be in the cab. I was certain I would be killed by either stress or a Negro in the “Hip Hop” room.
My cab and Lauren’s arrive on our block at around the same time. And I say goodnight to the two if them before they head home in Lauren’s car.
That night I slept badly on Chris’ bed. I feel sorry for her and myself at the same time. Multitasking xmax.
Before I sleep though, Chris informs me as to why T.J. asked me and only me to be at her wedding. T.J. said that when she met me all those years ago, I made such a memorable impression on her that she never forgot me and that I was the one person she wanted at her ceremony for that reason. If I had been able to sleep, I would have fallen asleep with a smile on my face.
I woke up with the idea for an excellent and terrifying video game involving zombies. If any of you are genuinely interested, let me know, I’ll share it with you.
My only plan for Saturday was lunch with Ray and hanging out/dinner with Phil and Min. I let the girls do their own touristy thing. Lunch with Ray wet off without a hitch and then I went home and took a nap, waiting for Phil to call me with plans. I woke up around 11 when the girls were returning home. Neither Phil nor Min had called nor were they answering their phones. Hm. Fine. After discussing watching a movie, I went to bed in Chris’ room.
Another fitful night, but this time without zombie dreams. Rats.
Fast forward to the car trip, because that is when everything changed…
Over the course of the six plus hour car trip from Manhattan to Stowe, Vermont, I figured everythingout. These girls all hail from tiny, little narrow minded towns in upstate New York. Specifically, Elmira and Corning. They have done less traveling than me and it shows. The first two days, I thought they were a bit…stupid to be honest and mean, but as I spent every single hour of the next three days with them, I learned differently. They have this innocence and naiveté that makes them appear that way. Once I understood that, I adapted and everything was just fine. I was able to switch to Actor Mode and let everything else just flow over me like fresh Maple Syrup. They were just impressed by me. Everything I said or did they thought was hilarious. It was like hanging around with a bunch of 14 year old girls. Part of it was their immaturity, but most of it was this beautiful, heartbreaking innocence that found a place in my heart the instant I discovered that’s what I was looking at. I wanted them to keep living their covered, protected lives in their tiny, little town where they are all each other will ever need. I want their ignorance to be converted directly into bliss. And I believe that’s the case. They are happy where they are and that makes me happy. The thing is, I grew up in New York City and moved to Florida where I saw pretty much everyone as an intellectual inferior. I mean, between the accent, the jaws dropped when they heard I was from New York and the fact that the Dean of my high school was made Dean because HE USED TO PLAY COLLEGE BALL WITH THE GATORS!! WOOOO WEEEE!! But there is something different about the numerous idiots I encountered in Florida and these girls. While the people in Florida were the kind of stupid you just want to smack, the girls had this kind of oblivious joy that you wanted to take part in, and as soon as I did, I started to enjoy myself.
As for enjoying myself, I did, utterly. In fact, I am going to bring Chris and Lauren and Ray back to Vermont (the Green Mountain state) to the same bed and breakfast (owned by two gay guys named (look it up on their web site for the Timberholm Inn in Stowe, VT) Mr. Drill and Mr. Pitstick) so they can share the bucolic cup from which I drank the whole time I was there. It was incredibly beautiful, ridiculously charming and the Cabot cheddar? I believe it will make even Lauren like cheese. Also, there is a gay bar called The Rusty Nail and a lesbian bar called Pie in the Sky. ‘Nuff said. All in all the only two bad spots were sharing a teeny tiny bed with a chatty, impressionable, sycophantic 18 year old. She was friendly as hell but talked at me for 44 minutes (from 12:00AM to 12:44AM) about her life. In a way, it was really sweet, but in another way I wanted to stick her into her own vagina to shut her up. The first night wasn’t so bad because we had all gotten a tad bit sloshed and alcohol puts Lucy to sleep, but that second night…oy. Plus, the bed was very small.
The second bad spot was the return trip. The nine-hour return trip on a train from Waterbury, Vermont to Penn Station making local stops everyfuckingwhere. Although I will say the train is ten billion times better than the bus and the train was only a half hour longer and four dollars more expensive. Will, if there is a similar deal on a train to D.C. you might see more of me…
In the end, it was a beautiful, touching, serene time that I was surprised to find myself enjoying wholeheartedly. I found Lucy was not a little whore, but a good hearted naive girl who loves animals, T.J. (whose last name I now know) is much less of a stranger and I see in her a kindness I have never known in anyone except maybe Angie or Angelica. I don’t know many people who would deserve the kind of loyal friend she is, myself included. Tinnea is still a bit imposing, but she is loving person who is going to kick anyone’s ass that chooses to fuck with T.J. She too, loves animals and it was hard to see her as a menacing bulldyke when she was playing with a Beagle puppy at an animal shelter we visited. Honestly, I felt like a different person while I was there. I amazed myself several times by having no cynicism for hours at a time. I saw cows, horses, mountains, corn, the Ben & Jerry’s Factory and the Vermont Teddy Bear Factory (which was a tad saccharine even in this setting). Still…how do I spell “unwind”? A lesbian wedding in Stowe, Vermont. Xmax.
8:22 PM
I just told this woman who always keeps pressing the button in her room that makes my panel beep to stop pressing the button or no one would come in and she stopped. Does that make me effective or bad?
8:27 PM
I was just reflecting; if I had a set destination (place to sleep, etc.) and time (week or two) and money (enough to be able to miss a week or two of work and not care), I would love to travel. The less people at that destination the better. I think in Vermont I saw maybe fifty people. Fifty people in three days, and all of them were polite. It was crazy. It was a little like that in D.C. Is New York really that overcrowded? When I got out of Penn Station at 6:30 PM yesterday, the city was understandably full, but is New York that overcrowded compared to those other places? Jesus.
9.15.2005
Things that give me a soul boner, in no particular order.
1. Irony
2. Laughing until I cry.
3. When bad things happen to bad people.
4. Busting my nut.
5. Receiving money for nothing.
6. The perfect pepper mill turkey, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise and Munster cheese sandwich complete with Salt & Vinegar Pringles and a nice, cold Welch’s Grape soda. Ahhhh...
7. True friends.
8. Being trapped behind a wall of excellent music.
9. New York City quieted by rain or snow.
10. The process of creating and completing a work.
1. Irony
2. Laughing until I cry.
3. When bad things happen to bad people.
4. Busting my nut.
5. Receiving money for nothing.
6. The perfect pepper mill turkey, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise and Munster cheese sandwich complete with Salt & Vinegar Pringles and a nice, cold Welch’s Grape soda. Ahhhh...
7. True friends.
8. Being trapped behind a wall of excellent music.
9. New York City quieted by rain or snow.
10. The process of creating and completing a work.
Violence-ah!!/Art Fuck Pepper Boys
Last night was a violent and productive evening.
When I first showed up at the Hospital, I overheard the AOD (Administrator On Duty) for the 3-11 shift telling the Security guy that he came off duty last night to find two of his tires slashed. The garage was locked and therefore it must have been an employee.
Then around 9pm, I go to take a wee and come back to find two police officers from the 23rd, one of the Deli guys and some dude standing in the Security office. Man, was I puzzled. As I sat huge-fucking-fly-on-the-wall style behind my board the story unfurled for me...
At about 9ish last night, a guy wearing a uniform from the Hospital came into the Deli and took a beer from the cooler. He walked towards the door without paying. The Deli guy told him to pay for it. The guy flips out, hurls the beer at the Deli guy. It smashes all over the area behind the counter and then the guy starts trying to climb over the counter yelling, "I'm not leaving until I fuck somebody up" (which I think is the title of an old Leaders of the New School album...). Eventually, he's pushed out of the store but not before he cuts the brother of the Deli guy who was also working there. After he was pushed out, they called the police. About a half hour of the AOD bumbling around with both thumbs in his ass, the police call us to tell us they found the guy nearby.
Finally, there was some party at the Hospital last night that I though only the upper crust of society was invited to since there was a shitload of suits and gowns streaming in earlier, but I think some of the employees must have scuttered up after all the guests left and stolen A LOT of booze because at around 10:50, two guys from housekeeping almost got in a fucking throw down right outside the building, but as they were about to rip shit up, a police car from earlier doing a routine check up saw it and sent the pugilists on their way.
Fuck, man. The AOD is a prick and the tires don't fret me none, those two drunk morons, why not just kill yourselves and make the planet more livable for us fully developed humans? But fucking with the Deli? These guys feed our entire neighborhood! From milk for a baby, to candy for a kid, to a cheap delicious sandwiches for a Cyclops, to the blunts these gangstas use to wrap their skunk in, to the lotto tickets these welfare mothers use to try not to be on welfare with, to the very beer that these degenerates swill in order to escape the fact that, yes there is something better I could be using my time for, but it's soooooo HARD to do things when you can just drink beer. The guys that run this place are friendly and all have the patience of saints to tolerate these snotty children, whining women and pugnacious men for fucking twenty four hours a day, but this goddamned lowlife still showed no respect and fucking threw a bottle of beer at him and cut his brother?
Here's hoping that this was his third strike and his anus is bleeding right now from forced entry by a man larger, more belligerent and even more disrespectful than himself. Give it to him once for me, Big Smoke, tear it up. Fuck his ass raw for every Deli clerk he's ever called Ali or Ahmed just because his skin is brown and he doesn't speak English that well, fuck him for every time he's threatened violence when a Deli has asked that he pay for the item he is attempting to take out of the store and fuck him extra rough for making these Deli guys fear their clientele, who they bend over backwards for every fucking day of their lives just to make you happy without receiving a fucking word of thanks and even a courteous gesture. I hope you're lying there now, rectum torn and leaking semen, and actually thinking that the state you are in now just might have something to do with the fact that you have done something bad. You have not only broken a law, but you have insulted and hurt people that do not deserve to be insulted or hurt. Perhaps this will teach you respect. Or perhaps you won't put two and two together. Perhaps you'll think the man is just fuckin' witcha. In any case, I hope a man is fuckin' witcha. And I hope his scabrous penis widens your asshole just enough for you to pull your head out. W00t.
And on a much, much more positive note; last night Phil, Chris, Alan and I filmed “Side Effects”, my latest short film. I should have this edited before the 24th (in order to show Phil just how sexy he looked) and maybe we will have a screening.
What this means is that I am hopefully going to start carrying out more of my ideas (of which I have quite a few) in order to keep myself functioning in the huge vacuum created by the absence of both Kaitlyn and Phil. Aside from these projects, I hope to take on more projects, both my own and other peoples. As far as my own are involved, I have two more completed ideas that need a few tweaks and are then ready to be shot. The first will include all of you that are interested and own black clothing and the second involves Christina Andrews (no nudity unless you want to get down on camera…baby let’s make a little…sextape…) and I. The first is called “Malaise Away” and the second is called “Ache, Spin, Die, Repeat”. Neither are very serious pieces although I’m sure there’s some art fuck pepper boy who will find some meaning to my dribbling. After all three are done and ready for viewing, I plan to submit them around and bask in other people’s praise; because that’s how I roll. I’ll keep y’all posted like the notes that bear that word in part of their title.
When I first showed up at the Hospital, I overheard the AOD (Administrator On Duty) for the 3-11 shift telling the Security guy that he came off duty last night to find two of his tires slashed. The garage was locked and therefore it must have been an employee.
Then around 9pm, I go to take a wee and come back to find two police officers from the 23rd, one of the Deli guys and some dude standing in the Security office. Man, was I puzzled. As I sat huge-fucking-fly-on-the-wall style behind my board the story unfurled for me...
At about 9ish last night, a guy wearing a uniform from the Hospital came into the Deli and took a beer from the cooler. He walked towards the door without paying. The Deli guy told him to pay for it. The guy flips out, hurls the beer at the Deli guy. It smashes all over the area behind the counter and then the guy starts trying to climb over the counter yelling, "I'm not leaving until I fuck somebody up" (which I think is the title of an old Leaders of the New School album...). Eventually, he's pushed out of the store but not before he cuts the brother of the Deli guy who was also working there. After he was pushed out, they called the police. About a half hour of the AOD bumbling around with both thumbs in his ass, the police call us to tell us they found the guy nearby.
Finally, there was some party at the Hospital last night that I though only the upper crust of society was invited to since there was a shitload of suits and gowns streaming in earlier, but I think some of the employees must have scuttered up after all the guests left and stolen A LOT of booze because at around 10:50, two guys from housekeeping almost got in a fucking throw down right outside the building, but as they were about to rip shit up, a police car from earlier doing a routine check up saw it and sent the pugilists on their way.
Fuck, man. The AOD is a prick and the tires don't fret me none, those two drunk morons, why not just kill yourselves and make the planet more livable for us fully developed humans? But fucking with the Deli? These guys feed our entire neighborhood! From milk for a baby, to candy for a kid, to a cheap delicious sandwiches for a Cyclops, to the blunts these gangstas use to wrap their skunk in, to the lotto tickets these welfare mothers use to try not to be on welfare with, to the very beer that these degenerates swill in order to escape the fact that, yes there is something better I could be using my time for, but it's soooooo HARD to do things when you can just drink beer. The guys that run this place are friendly and all have the patience of saints to tolerate these snotty children, whining women and pugnacious men for fucking twenty four hours a day, but this goddamned lowlife still showed no respect and fucking threw a bottle of beer at him and cut his brother?
Here's hoping that this was his third strike and his anus is bleeding right now from forced entry by a man larger, more belligerent and even more disrespectful than himself. Give it to him once for me, Big Smoke, tear it up. Fuck his ass raw for every Deli clerk he's ever called Ali or Ahmed just because his skin is brown and he doesn't speak English that well, fuck him for every time he's threatened violence when a Deli has asked that he pay for the item he is attempting to take out of the store and fuck him extra rough for making these Deli guys fear their clientele, who they bend over backwards for every fucking day of their lives just to make you happy without receiving a fucking word of thanks and even a courteous gesture. I hope you're lying there now, rectum torn and leaking semen, and actually thinking that the state you are in now just might have something to do with the fact that you have done something bad. You have not only broken a law, but you have insulted and hurt people that do not deserve to be insulted or hurt. Perhaps this will teach you respect. Or perhaps you won't put two and two together. Perhaps you'll think the man is just fuckin' witcha. In any case, I hope a man is fuckin' witcha. And I hope his scabrous penis widens your asshole just enough for you to pull your head out. W00t.
And on a much, much more positive note; last night Phil, Chris, Alan and I filmed “Side Effects”, my latest short film. I should have this edited before the 24th (in order to show Phil just how sexy he looked) and maybe we will have a screening.
What this means is that I am hopefully going to start carrying out more of my ideas (of which I have quite a few) in order to keep myself functioning in the huge vacuum created by the absence of both Kaitlyn and Phil. Aside from these projects, I hope to take on more projects, both my own and other peoples. As far as my own are involved, I have two more completed ideas that need a few tweaks and are then ready to be shot. The first will include all of you that are interested and own black clothing and the second involves Christina Andrews (no nudity unless you want to get down on camera…baby let’s make a little…sextape…) and I. The first is called “Malaise Away” and the second is called “Ache, Spin, Die, Repeat”. Neither are very serious pieces although I’m sure there’s some art fuck pepper boy who will find some meaning to my dribbling. After all three are done and ready for viewing, I plan to submit them around and bask in other people’s praise; because that’s how I roll. I’ll keep y’all posted like the notes that bear that word in part of their title.
9.01.2005
FINALLY
8.31.05
4:41 PM
Friends, the Hospital is pulling a 180-degree turn. After several elopements and a few scattered dead, they are starting to not fuck up. A high-risk patient (a patient who is at a high risk of eloping) was given a pass to leave by an idiot nurse. Within fifteen minutes he was brought back and the nurse was fired. Maybe next time it will only take five minutes, or maybe it won’t happen at all or maybe we’ll stop hiring idiots. Any of the three would be just ducky.
Also, people arrive at my home at 6 PM on Saturday in order to pre-game for the MET for Sex party. Has everyone who needs them gotten the mp3’s? If not, let me know. The time draweth neigh…
4:41 PM
Friends, the Hospital is pulling a 180-degree turn. After several elopements and a few scattered dead, they are starting to not fuck up. A high-risk patient (a patient who is at a high risk of eloping) was given a pass to leave by an idiot nurse. Within fifteen minutes he was brought back and the nurse was fired. Maybe next time it will only take five minutes, or maybe it won’t happen at all or maybe we’ll stop hiring idiots. Any of the three would be just ducky.
Also, people arrive at my home at 6 PM on Saturday in order to pre-game for the MET for Sex party. Has everyone who needs them gotten the mp3’s? If not, let me know. The time draweth neigh…
8.29.2005
Was It For This My Life I Sought?
8.29.05
7:11 PM
The DJ on Q 104.5 (the classic rock station) was just commenting on the shooting of Suge Knight at a party in California recently. After talking about the shooting itself, he then reported that the party simply moved from the hotel suite it was held in out to the pool area. He then said that “if you are a gangsta rapper there are only two states of being for you: just about to be shot and having just been shot, oh yeah and the two small slivers of existence when you are being shot or shooting someone.”
This DJ never talks about ANYTHING except for which songs he just played or the ones he is about to play. Color me shocked and tickled.
Looking forward to the MET for Sex party this weekend. Hopefully, everyone who has iPod’s/mp3 players got my e-mail yesterday. Everyone who needs CD’s, I got that. I think meeting at the MET in the lobby at 7:15 is what were shooting for. Again, 7:15 on Saturday, September 3rd. Bring your music playing devices with headphones and batteries. If I sound condescending, it’s because last time we had people showing up with iPod but without the Playlist. Or Discmen without headphones. Anyway, I’m putting more faith in this bunch than in the last group, please don’t make me think of you as idiots. Because I know people…people with big ears and bigger mouths…seriously big…
This weekend was more active than I’m used to. I went to a crazy party for Lauren’s Birthday. I went to two of the trendiest, hipster joints down there and freaked out the stiffs. They played “Kiss” and I sort of raped this guy who was demanding that I let my hair down (literally) all night. I swallowed a full Red Bull and vodka and made people gape. I danced with a girl named Angel who is a full time member of the Landmark Forum (she has a hole in her life and now in her bank account thanks to those brainwashing fucks). I found out my friend Angie is engaged and got invited to that wedding. There will be 80’s music xmax.
Sunday I saw “The Baxter” (new Michael Showalter movie starring basically the whole cast of “WHAS”) and spent HOURS in the Village with Chris at the Howl Festival and then I found Bubble Tea (mmmmm…) two blocks from Dojo.
This spending more than one hour a month with Lauren is awesome and I look forward to upping the dosage although seeing Angelika is going to be tough. She is almost almost a Doctor with only 6 years to go. She gets to do an autopsy this year. Does anyone need any fingers?
Also, Chris finished her CD!!! WOO! Very impressive stuff. And now allow me to reiterate that those who do not do their albums are pig scum. I swear to God. Get to work if you haven’t started yet. Jesus.
I’m eating vanilla fudge now. Oh my goodness, oh my goodness.
7:11 PM
The DJ on Q 104.5 (the classic rock station) was just commenting on the shooting of Suge Knight at a party in California recently. After talking about the shooting itself, he then reported that the party simply moved from the hotel suite it was held in out to the pool area. He then said that “if you are a gangsta rapper there are only two states of being for you: just about to be shot and having just been shot, oh yeah and the two small slivers of existence when you are being shot or shooting someone.”
This DJ never talks about ANYTHING except for which songs he just played or the ones he is about to play. Color me shocked and tickled.
Looking forward to the MET for Sex party this weekend. Hopefully, everyone who has iPod’s/mp3 players got my e-mail yesterday. Everyone who needs CD’s, I got that. I think meeting at the MET in the lobby at 7:15 is what were shooting for. Again, 7:15 on Saturday, September 3rd. Bring your music playing devices with headphones and batteries. If I sound condescending, it’s because last time we had people showing up with iPod but without the Playlist. Or Discmen without headphones. Anyway, I’m putting more faith in this bunch than in the last group, please don’t make me think of you as idiots. Because I know people…people with big ears and bigger mouths…seriously big…
This weekend was more active than I’m used to. I went to a crazy party for Lauren’s Birthday. I went to two of the trendiest, hipster joints down there and freaked out the stiffs. They played “Kiss” and I sort of raped this guy who was demanding that I let my hair down (literally) all night. I swallowed a full Red Bull and vodka and made people gape. I danced with a girl named Angel who is a full time member of the Landmark Forum (she has a hole in her life and now in her bank account thanks to those brainwashing fucks). I found out my friend Angie is engaged and got invited to that wedding. There will be 80’s music xmax.
Sunday I saw “The Baxter” (new Michael Showalter movie starring basically the whole cast of “WHAS”) and spent HOURS in the Village with Chris at the Howl Festival and then I found Bubble Tea (mmmmm…) two blocks from Dojo.
This spending more than one hour a month with Lauren is awesome and I look forward to upping the dosage although seeing Angelika is going to be tough. She is almost almost a Doctor with only 6 years to go. She gets to do an autopsy this year. Does anyone need any fingers?
Also, Chris finished her CD!!! WOO! Very impressive stuff. And now allow me to reiterate that those who do not do their albums are pig scum. I swear to God. Get to work if you haven’t started yet. Jesus.
I’m eating vanilla fudge now. Oh my goodness, oh my goodness.
8.26.2005
Peter Grunwald XMAX
8.26.05
3:06 PM
Last night I watched Armageddon and Monkey Shines. The first I watched because I have seen numerous parodies and have yet to see the source material and the second because it was Executive Produced by the owner of Tashmu, the dog I used to walk, Peter Grunwald.
Say what you will about Jerry Bruckhiemer, but goddamn can he make a HUGE movie just packed to the brim with famous actors. Bruce Willis (with an accent), Ben Affleck (tolerable), Liv Tyler (unreasonable hot), Michael Clarke Duncan (the poor man’s Ving Rhames), Owen Wilson (as Owen Wilson), Billy Bob Thornton Jolie (with the perpetual scruffy beard), Steve Buscemi (love that freak), Keith David (the voice of Golaith from the cartoon show Gargoyles as well as the guy who likes White chicks and gives them heroin for sex in Requiem for a Dream), Peter Stormare (Nihilist #1 from The Big Lebowski) and other actors that would make you exclaim, “Oh! That guy!” once you’ve seen them. Granted the plot was super hackneyed, but, come on, they have to drill into an asteroid and then blow it up with nukes!!! This sort of thing is de rigueur for Jedi Masters such as Obi Wan Pomerantz, but for us mere mortals, fuck man, NUKES ON THE ASTEROID!!!
“Monkey Shines”? Wow. Not only did this movie have a fierce attack parakeet, a razor-wielding capuchin and a quadriplegic sex scene (boi-oi-oing!!) but it also had one of the funniest foe-vanquishing moments ever put on film and I will challenge you to find a better one. Gia, this is the kind of “taking itself seriously” movie that you would love to flay with your razor-sharp tongue and scald with your caustic wit. Boo yah.
3:06 PM
Last night I watched Armageddon and Monkey Shines. The first I watched because I have seen numerous parodies and have yet to see the source material and the second because it was Executive Produced by the owner of Tashmu, the dog I used to walk, Peter Grunwald.
Say what you will about Jerry Bruckhiemer, but goddamn can he make a HUGE movie just packed to the brim with famous actors. Bruce Willis (with an accent), Ben Affleck (tolerable), Liv Tyler (unreasonable hot), Michael Clarke Duncan (the poor man’s Ving Rhames), Owen Wilson (as Owen Wilson), Billy Bob Thornton Jolie (with the perpetual scruffy beard), Steve Buscemi (love that freak), Keith David (the voice of Golaith from the cartoon show Gargoyles as well as the guy who likes White chicks and gives them heroin for sex in Requiem for a Dream), Peter Stormare (Nihilist #1 from The Big Lebowski) and other actors that would make you exclaim, “Oh! That guy!” once you’ve seen them. Granted the plot was super hackneyed, but, come on, they have to drill into an asteroid and then blow it up with nukes!!! This sort of thing is de rigueur for Jedi Masters such as Obi Wan Pomerantz, but for us mere mortals, fuck man, NUKES ON THE ASTEROID!!!
“Monkey Shines”? Wow. Not only did this movie have a fierce attack parakeet, a razor-wielding capuchin and a quadriplegic sex scene (boi-oi-oing!!) but it also had one of the funniest foe-vanquishing moments ever put on film and I will challenge you to find a better one. Gia, this is the kind of “taking itself seriously” movie that you would love to flay with your razor-sharp tongue and scald with your caustic wit. Boo yah.
8.22.2005
Urp.
8.22.05
3:46 PM
In just a squirt over a month, Phil will be dust in a dusty country, being eaten by bugs and plants and spider birds and all sorts of terrible things. This is unavoidable. Let us turn from this image of horrible death to one of life. Happy, warm life. Hot apple sauce life Chris and I will still be living in our apartment in a month and hopefully with a new friend who some of you have met ever so briefly. Her name is Mel. She is from L.A. originally then Boston. She is a freelance electrician and she is very good at her job. She also has the habit of always making too much food and never being able to eat it all. She is like a version of Leah who likes ladies more than gentlemen. And that, was me being tactful. We (Jen, Mel, Phil and I) hung out on Saturday night and watched a movie and had fun. At one point in the evening, Mel said that, although she’s only known me a handful of hours, she feels like she’s known me for much longer. That was by far one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me and now I really, really want to live with her, but, at this point, I would rather live with (fill in the blank with someone I wouldn’t want to live with unless I had to). I’m seriously considering calling in a bomb threat to Australia to keep Phil here. I’m still looking for the right person to call. That could be tough. Maybe I’ll call in a spider bomb or a shark bomb. Maybe I’ll threaten to bomb the Tim Tam factory. Speaking of Australia, Jade did you get the fucking CD yet? Those Mailboxes Etc. fuckwits said Will’s would arrive in two business days on Friday and he got it 13 days later. With that time frame, you should get yours a few days after your death.
Back to my point: We are looking for someone to live with. We have two options more feasible than Mel and, honestly, anyone will do as long as they don’t suck, but Mel and I are off to a great start and I’d love to live with an awesome permutation of Leah.
4:50 PM
Listened to “Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” all the way through for the first time today. Very enjoyable. I feel the same way I did after listening to the White album all the way through; disappointed by other bands I thought were startlingly original. Way to go, Beatles. I still have yet to sit down with “Rubber Soul” and “Abbey Road” yet, but I’ll download them soon. I can’t wait to have more music ruined for me.
Also, all I’ve had to eat today is three huge Starbucks Rice Krispy Treat Squares. Thank you, Spider Food.
3:46 PM
In just a squirt over a month, Phil will be dust in a dusty country, being eaten by bugs and plants and spider birds and all sorts of terrible things. This is unavoidable. Let us turn from this image of horrible death to one of life. Happy, warm life. Hot apple sauce life Chris and I will still be living in our apartment in a month and hopefully with a new friend who some of you have met ever so briefly. Her name is Mel. She is from L.A. originally then Boston. She is a freelance electrician and she is very good at her job. She also has the habit of always making too much food and never being able to eat it all. She is like a version of Leah who likes ladies more than gentlemen. And that, was me being tactful. We (Jen, Mel, Phil and I) hung out on Saturday night and watched a movie and had fun. At one point in the evening, Mel said that, although she’s only known me a handful of hours, she feels like she’s known me for much longer. That was by far one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me and now I really, really want to live with her, but, at this point, I would rather live with (fill in the blank with someone I wouldn’t want to live with unless I had to). I’m seriously considering calling in a bomb threat to Australia to keep Phil here. I’m still looking for the right person to call. That could be tough. Maybe I’ll call in a spider bomb or a shark bomb. Maybe I’ll threaten to bomb the Tim Tam factory. Speaking of Australia, Jade did you get the fucking CD yet? Those Mailboxes Etc. fuckwits said Will’s would arrive in two business days on Friday and he got it 13 days later. With that time frame, you should get yours a few days after your death.
Back to my point: We are looking for someone to live with. We have two options more feasible than Mel and, honestly, anyone will do as long as they don’t suck, but Mel and I are off to a great start and I’d love to live with an awesome permutation of Leah.
4:50 PM
Listened to “Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” all the way through for the first time today. Very enjoyable. I feel the same way I did after listening to the White album all the way through; disappointed by other bands I thought were startlingly original. Way to go, Beatles. I still have yet to sit down with “Rubber Soul” and “Abbey Road” yet, but I’ll download them soon. I can’t wait to have more music ruined for me.
Also, all I’ve had to eat today is three huge Starbucks Rice Krispy Treat Squares. Thank you, Spider Food.
8.19.2005
Endor...ENDOR...ENDOR!!! ENDORPHNES...HOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
8.19.05
4:02 PM
Today was the easiest seventy laps I’ve ever done. Here’s my secret…there are 4 official Nine Inch Nails albums and 1 official EP. The five releases contain a total of 68 tracks. During each lap, I played a clip of a song in my head. My laps are under 30 seconds, so I was never tired of the same song and, actually, had more than enough songs today since I forgot to initiate my plan until my 11th lap. I was surprised to find myself done in under an hour. Rawk hard ass, people, rawk hard ass.
And speaking of rawk hard asses, after my delight aquatic foray, I joined Jeannie for lunch in the staunch dinning room at the Club. She is planning on grad school and may come to New York. I was flattered to be among her reasons for getting Manhattanite wit it.
Now, here is the meat of this entry: I need all your help for this. This was posted on Stephen King’s website today:
If you’ve ever wanted to be a character in a Stephen King novel, here’s your chance! From September 1-25, 2005, Auction Cause will be conducting an auction through eBay Giving Works in which 17 authors are auctioning the opportunity to be a character in an upcoming novel, with the proceeds being donated to the First Amendment Project, a nonprofit organization that is dedicated to protecting and promoting freedom of information, expression, and petition. The auction for the Stephen King character will be from September 8th-18th. For more information about the First Amendment Project, Auction Cause, or the auction, visit:
http://www.thefirstamendment.org/
http://www.auctioncause.com/
http://www.ebay.com/fap
Here’s what Stephen is offering:
"One (and only one) character name in a novel called CELL, which is now in work and which will appear in either 2006 or 2007. Buyer should be aware that CELL is a violent piece of work, which comes complete with zombies set in motion by bad cell phone signals that destroy the human brain. Like cheap whiskey, it's very nasty and extremely satisfying. Character can be male or female, but a buyer who wants to die must in this case be female. In any case, I'll require physical description of auction winner, including any nickname (can be made up, I don't give a rip)."
Granted, Stephen King doesn’t seem super-psyched about compromising his work for money, but that doesn’t matter dick to me. Do you know what this contest means? It means that not only will I be immortalized in a Stephen King bestseller (all his books are bestsellers, even the shitty ones), but also that I will be immortalized in a Stephen King bestseller WITH ZOMBIES. Plus, with my “memorable” physical description, I wouldn’t be surprised if King has a little fun i.e. makes me a zombie.
So. Here’s where you come in. I intend to put up a sensible amount of money, but I will need your help. Anything you can spare to make my dreams come true will be bountifully rewarded. I will take you to lunch at the Club whenever you want to go, I will massage you, I will call bomb threats whenever you don’t feel like working, I will do whatever it takes to get into this book. Help me. Help me please and I will be your monkey. Please. I want to be in a Stephen King zombie book. Alan, I will give you my comic books. Kaitlyn, I will xmax your going away present. Gia, you will own every note of music They Might Be Giants have every released. Chris, I will perform oral sex until my entire face goes numb, also I will dress like a pirate/dandy/David Bowie/anything you want to get your rocks off. Christina, Robert Smith. Dorothy, I will bite you on command. Lisa, I will eliminate any and all ex-boyfriends you want. Jade, Linnell in a chesty bont. Phil, chocolate. Will, I will tell my father I’m gay…on videotape. You name it. You got it. Anyone…anything. Help me, and I will be your slave.
7:12 PM
During my break I watched the vast majority of “The Girl Next Door” starring Elisha Cuthbert (the smoking hot daughter of Jack Bauer on 24). This movie is a “star vehicle”. For those that aren’t savvy to the talk of the biz, allow me to shine some rays (more biz talk) on the scoop (even more biz talk). A star vehicle is NOT a class four hyerspace vessel, far from it, it is a movie (usually bad) with a tired plots, one dimensional characters, a generic soundtrack and a hot star from a hot T.V. show, a show like…uh…hmm…say 24. If the star is a young, attractive woman, she will most likely be portrayed in tight or no clothing in the ad campaign in order to draw in horny Fox watchers who are unable to find any naked pictures of said actress on the Internet. “The Girl Next Door” is no exception. It even has the “main character needs to be at an important dinner at which he will give a speech that will win him a scholarship but he throws out his original speech and speaks from the heart but even though he speaks from the heart, he still loses which makes a ‘zany scheme’ necessary”. Oh those one dimensional characters and their zany schemes…
Anyway, there are a bunch of “steamy” scenes with Elisha Cuthbert in which she teases the audience out of their mone. Thank God I waited for Netflix. Now, I know you’re all saying, “But Paul…why would you succumb to such transparent advertising schemes? You know she won’t show the goods and you have gigabytes of hot dolphin-on-clown porn at home, so why bother?”
Two letters: BJ. No, not blowjob (although a blowjob from Elisha Cuthbert would certainly put some pepper in my step), but Benjamin James. More specifically, Benjamin James Kravitz. Yes, BJ recommended this movie to me last time I saw him and I was completely won over. His taste in movies is always on the same track as mine so I didn’t hesitate a moment adding this to my queue. And honestly, like most of these movies, there are one or two fun ancillary characters that deliver one or two funny lines. I laughed three times. But a swallow does not a summer make (except when it comes to me, one swallow doesa millennium make…wait…what?) and three laughs do not a funny movie make (just like fucking “Mean Girls”), and I was super disappointed. Think “Risky Business” with less class. In fact, upon further consideration I think this movie might actually be a remake of “Risky Business”. And speaking of “Risky Business”, I never found Rebecca DeMornay attractive, did you? Yeech. Anyway, it’s hard to make a steamy sex scene with an actress who refuses to be filmed in anything less than her bra and panties. At least it is nowadays. In movies today, it isn’t about the style, it about the titties. I can look at titties and just sit there, but give me something stylish and I don’t even need the titties. Just the look and feel of it should be enough. But all these fucking 20 something directors directing these 20 something untalented actors, they think that moving your ass back and forth is arousing. Wrong wrong wrong. Make us want the ass, make us NEED the ass. Eh. Anyway, I promise y’all that my star vehicle will be awesome. I will act well and, tits or no, it will be stylish and steamy.
And speaking of steamy…
In Queer As Folk, every time a gay guy goes into a steam room, even in a regular old gym, there are sexy men groping themselves. I have been taking steams for months now and NOT ONCE have I seen one sexy man groping himself. I think I might have to break the ice. Mmmm…steam room…
And, totally off the subject of me and hot, sweaty guys rump pumping and summer swallowing; in response to the incident that didn’t happen involving a resident from the Hospital yesterday, the Hospital has purchased a VCR. Again, in response to the incident detailed in yesterday’s post, they purchased a VCR, a rather shitty one, actually. Allow me to explain…
We have an elaborate (confusing) video surveillance system that allows Security to see maybe 17% of the total Hospital and 25% of the exits from the Hospital. But…get this, we don’t record anything. Even if a maniac walked into the place wielding dual shotguns and took out as many octogenarians as he could with 24 shells, the police wouldn’t be able to prove it. Eyewitnesses might put him on the scene, but without video proof? Who knows? Several times have the Police been called here and asked for the last twelve hours of tape only to be met with sheepish stares at the floor and mumbles of “Uh…we don’t…uh…have those…”
But those days of inadequacy are OVER!! Thanks to our brand new non-functioning VCR that was just installed (incorrectly) this afternoon and which won’t start working until the end of next week (hopefully). Jesus H. Christ, let the Beast Machine rampage on! EXCELSIOR!!!
8:40 PM
Just connected an angry patient with a nursing supervisor. Man I wish I could listen in on that one…
9:17 PM
Not as hopeful tonight. Eels should do nicely.
4:02 PM
Today was the easiest seventy laps I’ve ever done. Here’s my secret…there are 4 official Nine Inch Nails albums and 1 official EP. The five releases contain a total of 68 tracks. During each lap, I played a clip of a song in my head. My laps are under 30 seconds, so I was never tired of the same song and, actually, had more than enough songs today since I forgot to initiate my plan until my 11th lap. I was surprised to find myself done in under an hour. Rawk hard ass, people, rawk hard ass.
And speaking of rawk hard asses, after my delight aquatic foray, I joined Jeannie for lunch in the staunch dinning room at the Club. She is planning on grad school and may come to New York. I was flattered to be among her reasons for getting Manhattanite wit it.
Now, here is the meat of this entry: I need all your help for this. This was posted on Stephen King’s website today:
If you’ve ever wanted to be a character in a Stephen King novel, here’s your chance! From September 1-25, 2005, Auction Cause will be conducting an auction through eBay Giving Works in which 17 authors are auctioning the opportunity to be a character in an upcoming novel, with the proceeds being donated to the First Amendment Project, a nonprofit organization that is dedicated to protecting and promoting freedom of information, expression, and petition. The auction for the Stephen King character will be from September 8th-18th. For more information about the First Amendment Project, Auction Cause, or the auction, visit:
http://www.thefirstamendment.org/
http://www.auctioncause.com/
http://www.ebay.com/fap
Here’s what Stephen is offering:
"One (and only one) character name in a novel called CELL, which is now in work and which will appear in either 2006 or 2007. Buyer should be aware that CELL is a violent piece of work, which comes complete with zombies set in motion by bad cell phone signals that destroy the human brain. Like cheap whiskey, it's very nasty and extremely satisfying. Character can be male or female, but a buyer who wants to die must in this case be female. In any case, I'll require physical description of auction winner, including any nickname (can be made up, I don't give a rip)."
Granted, Stephen King doesn’t seem super-psyched about compromising his work for money, but that doesn’t matter dick to me. Do you know what this contest means? It means that not only will I be immortalized in a Stephen King bestseller (all his books are bestsellers, even the shitty ones), but also that I will be immortalized in a Stephen King bestseller WITH ZOMBIES. Plus, with my “memorable” physical description, I wouldn’t be surprised if King has a little fun i.e. makes me a zombie.
So. Here’s where you come in. I intend to put up a sensible amount of money, but I will need your help. Anything you can spare to make my dreams come true will be bountifully rewarded. I will take you to lunch at the Club whenever you want to go, I will massage you, I will call bomb threats whenever you don’t feel like working, I will do whatever it takes to get into this book. Help me. Help me please and I will be your monkey. Please. I want to be in a Stephen King zombie book. Alan, I will give you my comic books. Kaitlyn, I will xmax your going away present. Gia, you will own every note of music They Might Be Giants have every released. Chris, I will perform oral sex until my entire face goes numb, also I will dress like a pirate/dandy/David Bowie/anything you want to get your rocks off. Christina, Robert Smith. Dorothy, I will bite you on command. Lisa, I will eliminate any and all ex-boyfriends you want. Jade, Linnell in a chesty bont. Phil, chocolate. Will, I will tell my father I’m gay…on videotape. You name it. You got it. Anyone…anything. Help me, and I will be your slave.
7:12 PM
During my break I watched the vast majority of “The Girl Next Door” starring Elisha Cuthbert (the smoking hot daughter of Jack Bauer on 24). This movie is a “star vehicle”. For those that aren’t savvy to the talk of the biz, allow me to shine some rays (more biz talk) on the scoop (even more biz talk). A star vehicle is NOT a class four hyerspace vessel, far from it, it is a movie (usually bad) with a tired plots, one dimensional characters, a generic soundtrack and a hot star from a hot T.V. show, a show like…uh…hmm…say 24. If the star is a young, attractive woman, she will most likely be portrayed in tight or no clothing in the ad campaign in order to draw in horny Fox watchers who are unable to find any naked pictures of said actress on the Internet. “The Girl Next Door” is no exception. It even has the “main character needs to be at an important dinner at which he will give a speech that will win him a scholarship but he throws out his original speech and speaks from the heart but even though he speaks from the heart, he still loses which makes a ‘zany scheme’ necessary”. Oh those one dimensional characters and their zany schemes…
Anyway, there are a bunch of “steamy” scenes with Elisha Cuthbert in which she teases the audience out of their mone. Thank God I waited for Netflix. Now, I know you’re all saying, “But Paul…why would you succumb to such transparent advertising schemes? You know she won’t show the goods and you have gigabytes of hot dolphin-on-clown porn at home, so why bother?”
Two letters: BJ. No, not blowjob (although a blowjob from Elisha Cuthbert would certainly put some pepper in my step), but Benjamin James. More specifically, Benjamin James Kravitz. Yes, BJ recommended this movie to me last time I saw him and I was completely won over. His taste in movies is always on the same track as mine so I didn’t hesitate a moment adding this to my queue. And honestly, like most of these movies, there are one or two fun ancillary characters that deliver one or two funny lines. I laughed three times. But a swallow does not a summer make (except when it comes to me, one swallow doesa millennium make…wait…what?) and three laughs do not a funny movie make (just like fucking “Mean Girls”), and I was super disappointed. Think “Risky Business” with less class. In fact, upon further consideration I think this movie might actually be a remake of “Risky Business”. And speaking of “Risky Business”, I never found Rebecca DeMornay attractive, did you? Yeech. Anyway, it’s hard to make a steamy sex scene with an actress who refuses to be filmed in anything less than her bra and panties. At least it is nowadays. In movies today, it isn’t about the style, it about the titties. I can look at titties and just sit there, but give me something stylish and I don’t even need the titties. Just the look and feel of it should be enough. But all these fucking 20 something directors directing these 20 something untalented actors, they think that moving your ass back and forth is arousing. Wrong wrong wrong. Make us want the ass, make us NEED the ass. Eh. Anyway, I promise y’all that my star vehicle will be awesome. I will act well and, tits or no, it will be stylish and steamy.
And speaking of steamy…
In Queer As Folk, every time a gay guy goes into a steam room, even in a regular old gym, there are sexy men groping themselves. I have been taking steams for months now and NOT ONCE have I seen one sexy man groping himself. I think I might have to break the ice. Mmmm…steam room…
And, totally off the subject of me and hot, sweaty guys rump pumping and summer swallowing; in response to the incident that didn’t happen involving a resident from the Hospital yesterday, the Hospital has purchased a VCR. Again, in response to the incident detailed in yesterday’s post, they purchased a VCR, a rather shitty one, actually. Allow me to explain…
We have an elaborate (confusing) video surveillance system that allows Security to see maybe 17% of the total Hospital and 25% of the exits from the Hospital. But…get this, we don’t record anything. Even if a maniac walked into the place wielding dual shotguns and took out as many octogenarians as he could with 24 shells, the police wouldn’t be able to prove it. Eyewitnesses might put him on the scene, but without video proof? Who knows? Several times have the Police been called here and asked for the last twelve hours of tape only to be met with sheepish stares at the floor and mumbles of “Uh…we don’t…uh…have those…”
But those days of inadequacy are OVER!! Thanks to our brand new non-functioning VCR that was just installed (incorrectly) this afternoon and which won’t start working until the end of next week (hopefully). Jesus H. Christ, let the Beast Machine rampage on! EXCELSIOR!!!
8:40 PM
Just connected an angry patient with a nursing supervisor. Man I wish I could listen in on that one…
9:17 PM
Not as hopeful tonight. Eels should do nicely.
8.18.2005
Throw Me Tomorrow
8.18.05
4:38 PM
Why is it that radio stations (even good ones like 104.3 the classic rock station) play so few songs? I listen to this station about 30 hours a week at work, as it is the best thing out there. This station plays music from the 60’s through the 90’s and even some stuff from today (some Green Day, new Robert Plant etc.). Yet, even though that’s over forty years of music, I hear the same stuff, not just week after week, but day after day. There are over a hundred Bowie, Queen, Beatles, Rolling Stones, Doors etc. songs that have been recorded, and yet, I only hear 4 U2 (not that I really consider “Sunday, Bloody Sunday” a people pleaser), 6 Bowie, 4 Queen, 8 Beatles, 5 Rolling Stones and 3 Doors tracks. There are literally thousands of songs that could be played on this station, but they appear to only want to/be able to play 500. I understand about pop music stations not being able to play every track of an artist’s album. Singles have more mass appeal than other tracks, but still, how many Best Of albums do all of those abovementioned bands have? I know Bowie has about 20 and every song on each one is all about mass appeal. And Queen? You can enjoy every one of their songs, even if you aren’t gay or choreographing a zombie fight scene. I think a little later I am going to call the station and ask the DJ…
8:19 PM
Well, I tried for fourteen minutes to reach the DJ. I had five of the six phone lines dedicated to the task (I left one open just in case he tried to call me.) but nothing. That is one hard to reach DJ. If any of you have an extra time and if you want to help a brotha out, call 1-888-872-1043 and ask for me. I will pay you in body massage.
Oo! Someone just brought down a melon platter from an event held here earlier tonight.
Anyway, a woman eloped from the Hospital last night at 10:25PM. Security and I didn’t hear about it ‘til about 10:58 (see nurses will wait to report missing patients until the very end of their shift (11pm) since, if the patient is really missing, they don’t have to deal with it. Yes, that’s true.), when I was two minutes from leaving. I come in today and everyone is in a surly mood. I figured it had something to do with the missing woman. I mean, another patient eloped from our place, obviously this means more investigations and finger pointing etc. however, I just found out that last night the woman turned up a few blocks down at Mount Sinai…dead. This lady walked out of our establishment sometime around 10:30 last night and was found dead at Mount Sinai about two hours later. The reason we all just found out about it is that she cut off all her identification bracelets and such. Some genius decided that, hey, there’s a really big Hospital right down the street…maybe they know more than us (which is always an understatement). Now here’s the part that kind of freaks me out/pisses me off/disgusts me: because this lady had no friends, no family and no sponsor (she was a ward of the state) and because we have been under a lot of pressure lately (dead kids, wandering crazies, misplaced corpses etc.) there is going to be nothing done about this and it is going to be reported that she died of natural causes…here at the Hospital so as to avoid any (more) undue attention. I feel like I could now come to work naked, drunk and ending each sentence with “and my big black dick” and not only have no problems getting away with it, but also get a recommendation and a raise.
See, at one point I thought I was under some weird charm, some arcane force that rendered me unaccountable for my actions. Soon after that I realized it wasn’t that I was charmed, it was that I was imperceptible. Naught but a speck of dust caught in the grease that makes the cogs run smoothly. Now I realize that not only am I a teensy particle of dust, I am a teensy particle of dust in the grease on a cog that turns the axel of some diabolic and uncontrollable killing machine running rampant through some medieval village. Who cares about the state of things for a dust mote when this contraption is catapulting flaming dogs at men, women and children alike?
The only thing I really have to worry about is that a meteor (in this metaphor it represents God’s good grace and the State Dept.) might collide with this rampaging beast machine and blow the whole thing to shit and rotten, smoking dog bodies.
In other news, why do people even bother with honeydew when cantaloupe is just as readily available and fifteen times as tasty? I mean it isn’t that honeydew tastes bad, it doesn’t seem to taste like anything at all. Maybe I’ve just never had good honeydew. I’ll have to get on that.
9:45 PM
I’m feeling glum. I’m going to listen to Bowie’s ‘…hours’. Good mellow, hopeful stuff.
10:37 PM
Set up a lunch with Jeannie tomorrow. If anyone would be interested in joining us, let me know. We plan to meet at the N.Y.A.C. (180 Central Park South) at 1:15 PM. That means tomorrow I swim. ENDORPHINES, HERE I COME!!!!!!!!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!! I have to say, no real problems with fifty or sixty laps, but when I set my sights on seventy I get forlorn around forty. But then I just think of my rawk hard ass and everything gets better… You should all try it some time. Raaaaawk hard aaaaaaassss……
4:38 PM
Why is it that radio stations (even good ones like 104.3 the classic rock station) play so few songs? I listen to this station about 30 hours a week at work, as it is the best thing out there. This station plays music from the 60’s through the 90’s and even some stuff from today (some Green Day, new Robert Plant etc.). Yet, even though that’s over forty years of music, I hear the same stuff, not just week after week, but day after day. There are over a hundred Bowie, Queen, Beatles, Rolling Stones, Doors etc. songs that have been recorded, and yet, I only hear 4 U2 (not that I really consider “Sunday, Bloody Sunday” a people pleaser), 6 Bowie, 4 Queen, 8 Beatles, 5 Rolling Stones and 3 Doors tracks. There are literally thousands of songs that could be played on this station, but they appear to only want to/be able to play 500. I understand about pop music stations not being able to play every track of an artist’s album. Singles have more mass appeal than other tracks, but still, how many Best Of albums do all of those abovementioned bands have? I know Bowie has about 20 and every song on each one is all about mass appeal. And Queen? You can enjoy every one of their songs, even if you aren’t gay or choreographing a zombie fight scene. I think a little later I am going to call the station and ask the DJ…
8:19 PM
Well, I tried for fourteen minutes to reach the DJ. I had five of the six phone lines dedicated to the task (I left one open just in case he tried to call me.) but nothing. That is one hard to reach DJ. If any of you have an extra time and if you want to help a brotha out, call 1-888-872-1043 and ask for me. I will pay you in body massage.
Oo! Someone just brought down a melon platter from an event held here earlier tonight.
Anyway, a woman eloped from the Hospital last night at 10:25PM. Security and I didn’t hear about it ‘til about 10:58 (see nurses will wait to report missing patients until the very end of their shift (11pm) since, if the patient is really missing, they don’t have to deal with it. Yes, that’s true.), when I was two minutes from leaving. I come in today and everyone is in a surly mood. I figured it had something to do with the missing woman. I mean, another patient eloped from our place, obviously this means more investigations and finger pointing etc. however, I just found out that last night the woman turned up a few blocks down at Mount Sinai…dead. This lady walked out of our establishment sometime around 10:30 last night and was found dead at Mount Sinai about two hours later. The reason we all just found out about it is that she cut off all her identification bracelets and such. Some genius decided that, hey, there’s a really big Hospital right down the street…maybe they know more than us (which is always an understatement). Now here’s the part that kind of freaks me out/pisses me off/disgusts me: because this lady had no friends, no family and no sponsor (she was a ward of the state) and because we have been under a lot of pressure lately (dead kids, wandering crazies, misplaced corpses etc.) there is going to be nothing done about this and it is going to be reported that she died of natural causes…here at the Hospital so as to avoid any (more) undue attention. I feel like I could now come to work naked, drunk and ending each sentence with “and my big black dick” and not only have no problems getting away with it, but also get a recommendation and a raise.
See, at one point I thought I was under some weird charm, some arcane force that rendered me unaccountable for my actions. Soon after that I realized it wasn’t that I was charmed, it was that I was imperceptible. Naught but a speck of dust caught in the grease that makes the cogs run smoothly. Now I realize that not only am I a teensy particle of dust, I am a teensy particle of dust in the grease on a cog that turns the axel of some diabolic and uncontrollable killing machine running rampant through some medieval village. Who cares about the state of things for a dust mote when this contraption is catapulting flaming dogs at men, women and children alike?
The only thing I really have to worry about is that a meteor (in this metaphor it represents God’s good grace and the State Dept.) might collide with this rampaging beast machine and blow the whole thing to shit and rotten, smoking dog bodies.
In other news, why do people even bother with honeydew when cantaloupe is just as readily available and fifteen times as tasty? I mean it isn’t that honeydew tastes bad, it doesn’t seem to taste like anything at all. Maybe I’ve just never had good honeydew. I’ll have to get on that.
9:45 PM
I’m feeling glum. I’m going to listen to Bowie’s ‘…hours’. Good mellow, hopeful stuff.
10:37 PM
Set up a lunch with Jeannie tomorrow. If anyone would be interested in joining us, let me know. We plan to meet at the N.Y.A.C. (180 Central Park South) at 1:15 PM. That means tomorrow I swim. ENDORPHINES, HERE I COME!!!!!!!!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!! I have to say, no real problems with fifty or sixty laps, but when I set my sights on seventy I get forlorn around forty. But then I just think of my rawk hard ass and everything gets better… You should all try it some time. Raaaaawk hard aaaaaaassss……
8.16.2005
BFF...AGAIN!!!
8.16.05
4:26 PM
Kaitlyn and I have made up. Not made out, made up. We talked about making out though. Well…that’s not quite accurate… Actually, I told her I wanted her and I to make out, then become lovers, then reach that stage of “more than lovers” and then spend the rest of our lives together.
She said she wasn’t really interested.
Man was that embarrassing. Woo. That was like 5 hours ago and I’m still feelin’ that one. Ouch. Like acid sand on my soul.
Anyway…yeah…so we’re BFF again. At least until the next time I’m tactless.
Damn.
Can you say “doomed relationship”?
In other news, I need an exact count of who is definitely coming to the “MET for Sex” party on the evening of Saturday, September 3rd. I also need to know who, of those people, owns a functioning Discman or iPod so I can create the appropriate media for you. The tracklisting is about to be finalized…
For those of you who do not know what this is:
A group of very well dressed individuals (us) will meet at a set time on the steps on the Metropolitan Museum of Art and engage a CD/mp3 playlist at the exact same moment and then funk our way through the Met. The combination of vibrant, party music and the dour, somewhat icy atmosphere of the museum creates a surreal sense that drives one to dance. And that is good.
The last Met party was hosted by Min and Philip and myself created the setlist. It was good, but noticeably disorganized whereas this one (“MET for Sex V.2”) is going to focus on cleaning up the bugs that were discovered in the original jaunt along with retooling the tracklist for maximum dancability. We look forward to a big turnout because "the more the merrier" is an understatement in this case.
So, please get back to me as far as what equipment you have so I can get to work making life more fun for you.
Thanks.
*************************************
As of 2:48 this morning, the tracklist has been finalized so get your info up there.
4:26 PM
Kaitlyn and I have made up. Not made out, made up. We talked about making out though. Well…that’s not quite accurate… Actually, I told her I wanted her and I to make out, then become lovers, then reach that stage of “more than lovers” and then spend the rest of our lives together.
She said she wasn’t really interested.
Man was that embarrassing. Woo. That was like 5 hours ago and I’m still feelin’ that one. Ouch. Like acid sand on my soul.
Anyway…yeah…so we’re BFF again. At least until the next time I’m tactless.
Damn.
Can you say “doomed relationship”?
In other news, I need an exact count of who is definitely coming to the “MET for Sex” party on the evening of Saturday, September 3rd. I also need to know who, of those people, owns a functioning Discman or iPod so I can create the appropriate media for you. The tracklisting is about to be finalized…
For those of you who do not know what this is:
A group of very well dressed individuals (us) will meet at a set time on the steps on the Metropolitan Museum of Art and engage a CD/mp3 playlist at the exact same moment and then funk our way through the Met. The combination of vibrant, party music and the dour, somewhat icy atmosphere of the museum creates a surreal sense that drives one to dance. And that is good.
The last Met party was hosted by Min and Philip and myself created the setlist. It was good, but noticeably disorganized whereas this one (“MET for Sex V.2”) is going to focus on cleaning up the bugs that were discovered in the original jaunt along with retooling the tracklist for maximum dancability. We look forward to a big turnout because "the more the merrier" is an understatement in this case.
So, please get back to me as far as what equipment you have so I can get to work making life more fun for you.
Thanks.
*************************************
As of 2:48 this morning, the tracklist has been finalized so get your info up there.
8.15.2005
FROM THE SEA!!
8.15.05
3:13 PM
Good lord.
Went to the seaside with family and friends this weekend. Early Saturday morning, Lauren and Ray picked up Chris and myself and we all skittered off to Ocean City, NJ, a very dear place to me from my childhood. A boardwalk rife with funnel cake, fried Oreos, mini golf, fat people, arcades and one sweet ass amusement park called Wonderland Pier, which can be seen in the early They Might Be Giants video “Purple Toupee”. I spent numerous summers there throughout my childhood.
I was only there for about 40 hours, but every hour (except for those while I was sleeping) was filled with funny fun fun. At the moment, I am running on 4 hours of sleep and I have no interest in typing out all the fun stuff that happened. I played an awesome video game that I had never heard of, I spun around in so many circles as to kill a lesser man, I ate fudge and some sticky buns made by God Herself, I kicked some ass in mini golf, I drank three Icee’s (blue), I made a 6’8 asshole of myself at a blackjack table, I gave the lead singer of a pretty decent cover band Will’s number, but assured him I was NOT gay, I won, lost, won, lost and then lost again at slots, roulette and blackjack, and then I drank a $2.25 cup of coffee…and complained about it.
Long story short, next year 8 or so lucky tinkle pins are going to join us cool, sexy froods in June at our very own beach house in Ocean City, NJ for something like $150 a week. These houses are prime sex spaces people.
It was mad dope to hang with Lauren and Ray all weekend. Sort of like the Philly trip we took but better. Ray and I got this crazy wavelength thing going on and any time I get to spend with Lauren is great. Her and I are celebrating our six-year anniversary in September; hopefully we’ll eat some red pears in a mall near Fordham, but probably not. You know, Lauren is the one responsible for my wearing black socks? Of course you didn’t. Why the fuck would you know that? Jesus. You people can’t even find five minutes to comment on the CD Philip and I painstakingly orchestrated for you; how am I to expect you to know something like that? Pigs. Go to Bite the Music and comment on the goddamn thing, you collection of Penny Dreadfuls you.
3:13 PM
Good lord.
Went to the seaside with family and friends this weekend. Early Saturday morning, Lauren and Ray picked up Chris and myself and we all skittered off to Ocean City, NJ, a very dear place to me from my childhood. A boardwalk rife with funnel cake, fried Oreos, mini golf, fat people, arcades and one sweet ass amusement park called Wonderland Pier, which can be seen in the early They Might Be Giants video “Purple Toupee”. I spent numerous summers there throughout my childhood.
I was only there for about 40 hours, but every hour (except for those while I was sleeping) was filled with funny fun fun. At the moment, I am running on 4 hours of sleep and I have no interest in typing out all the fun stuff that happened. I played an awesome video game that I had never heard of, I spun around in so many circles as to kill a lesser man, I ate fudge and some sticky buns made by God Herself, I kicked some ass in mini golf, I drank three Icee’s (blue), I made a 6’8 asshole of myself at a blackjack table, I gave the lead singer of a pretty decent cover band Will’s number, but assured him I was NOT gay, I won, lost, won, lost and then lost again at slots, roulette and blackjack, and then I drank a $2.25 cup of coffee…and complained about it.
Long story short, next year 8 or so lucky tinkle pins are going to join us cool, sexy froods in June at our very own beach house in Ocean City, NJ for something like $150 a week. These houses are prime sex spaces people.
It was mad dope to hang with Lauren and Ray all weekend. Sort of like the Philly trip we took but better. Ray and I got this crazy wavelength thing going on and any time I get to spend with Lauren is great. Her and I are celebrating our six-year anniversary in September; hopefully we’ll eat some red pears in a mall near Fordham, but probably not. You know, Lauren is the one responsible for my wearing black socks? Of course you didn’t. Why the fuck would you know that? Jesus. You people can’t even find five minutes to comment on the CD Philip and I painstakingly orchestrated for you; how am I to expect you to know something like that? Pigs. Go to Bite the Music and comment on the goddamn thing, you collection of Penny Dreadfuls you.
8.13.2005
TO THE SEA!!!
Whippery Ned Ticket
and
his lively bungles!
How they leap! How they caper!
Whippery Ned sings songs of sliding leather
and chides his troupe for errors or
insufficient zeal, perhaps with a
smart tingle of the flick!
8.09.2005
Me and Mr. Depp got a thing going on...
Woo! My Charlie and the Chocolate Factory commercial is on TV AND I just recieved my copy in the mail AND you can check out both versions (:30 and :15) here. Click on either the :30 or :15 version.
As many of you know, right before I went into the booth to record this, I was informed that Tim Burton (director of the remake of Planet of the Apes) would have to approve the commercial before it would be released. When I didn't hear anything for a few weeks, I thought Tim and I would have to have words, but this is all the affirmation I need that me and Tim are about ready to get together on some projects I've been cooking up. And that other guy...pale guy...Johnny something?
As many of you know, right before I went into the booth to record this, I was informed that Tim Burton (director of the remake of Planet of the Apes) would have to approve the commercial before it would be released. When I didn't hear anything for a few weeks, I thought Tim and I would have to have words, but this is all the affirmation I need that me and Tim are about ready to get together on some projects I've been cooking up. And that other guy...pale guy...Johnny something?
8.08.2005
8.05.2005
8.05.05
6:08 PM
I’ve decided to go to work next Friday drunk. I wanted to do so today, but I only had time to drink three Smirnoff’s (which are the equivalent to a beer each, smart ass). Next week I won't fuck around with Smirnoff’s; I’m taking the Red Bull mit Vodka train.
Why, Paul? Why would you risk getting fired from such a great job?
Well, you, I’ll tell you.
The listed requirements for this job are as follows:
2 years of high school.
Mm hm. That’s it. Two years of high school and you are able to do what I do.
I’m just curious how many drinksy poos it would take for me NOT be able to do this job.
As soon as I hit my limit and find myself too fucked up to do this trained monkey job (which I could have done in fifth grade, maybe fourth), I will then fake stomach poisoning and go home. I will then become that drunk every day just to make life more fun. At this moment, I have a slight warmth in the back of my head, but that’s it. My clothes are on and my penis remains sheathed although my reclining, spinning and rolling chair is more fun than usual…
6:08 PM
I’ve decided to go to work next Friday drunk. I wanted to do so today, but I only had time to drink three Smirnoff’s (which are the equivalent to a beer each, smart ass). Next week I won't fuck around with Smirnoff’s; I’m taking the Red Bull mit Vodka train.
Why, Paul? Why would you risk getting fired from such a great job?
Well, you, I’ll tell you.
The listed requirements for this job are as follows:
2 years of high school.
Mm hm. That’s it. Two years of high school and you are able to do what I do.
I’m just curious how many drinksy poos it would take for me NOT be able to do this job.
As soon as I hit my limit and find myself too fucked up to do this trained monkey job (which I could have done in fifth grade, maybe fourth), I will then fake stomach poisoning and go home. I will then become that drunk every day just to make life more fun. At this moment, I have a slight warmth in the back of my head, but that’s it. My clothes are on and my penis remains sheathed although my reclining, spinning and rolling chair is more fun than usual…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)