tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71421642024-03-23T14:13:48.499-04:00Tastes Like Burning*WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.comBlogger553125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-1348058995675659782007-10-14T16:30:00.001-04:002007-11-25T23:06:43.996-05:00The End<center><object height="353" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2XqRQmGoaB4&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2XqRQmGoaB4&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="353" width="425"></embed></object></center><center><span style="font-family:times new roman;">The End by Roadrunner United</span></center><center><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XqRQmGoaB4" target="blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XqRQmGoaB4</a></center><br />So, 565 posts later I've decided to bring this blog to an end. I'd like to thank the few people who read my less than brilliant rants over the three and a half years I've been doing this. It's been fun but as of late I just haven't been feeling it. Good bye all. Stay in touch ...WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-41798169995334083212007-09-30T23:49:00.000-04:002007-09-30T23:53:42.300-04:00Fox In The GardenMaybe the <a href="http://www.nba.com/knicks/" target="blank">Knicks</a> will have a chance now that they have some Marist brains on the team: <span style="font-size:85%;"><a style="font-family: courier new;" href="http://www.sportsline.com/nba/story/10381256" target="blank">Knicks Acquire Draft Rights To Jared Jordan From Clippers, Work On Dan Dickau Buyout</a></span><br /><br />I can't wait to buy a <a href="http://www.nba.com/draft2007/profiles/JaredJordan.html" target="blank">Jordan</a> jersey.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-76460043411904729842007-09-27T07:45:00.000-04:002007-09-27T07:52:51.428-04:00Goin' Nowhere FastI think it's safe to say that this little fool isn't going to be too quick to get anywhere. Ever.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RvuYL9yr9yI/AAAAAAAAALA/KU3gY4SgrsM/s1600-h/turtleturtle.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RvuYL9yr9yI/AAAAAAAAALA/KU3gY4SgrsM/s400/turtleturtle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114849133142472482" border="0" /></a> <center><span style="font-family:courier new;">Store manager Jay Jacoby displays a two-headed red slider turtle at Big Al's Aquarium Supercenter in East Norriton Pa., Wednesday, Sept. 26, 2007. The rare turtle is on display at the store. </span>(<a href="http://news.yahoo.com/photo/070926/480/a28861fea54e4e1eb2ee6a233a2c7bc9" target="blank">AP Photo/Matt Rourke</a>)</center>WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-36962455777894218472007-09-26T23:32:00.000-04:002007-09-26T23:34:23.046-04:00That's No Lie<span chatdir="1"><span chatindex="DCF77F99040131A49">Yesterday I got this message from <a href="http://www.lozo.blogspot.com/" target="blank">Lozo</a> via Gmail chat: <span style="font-style: italic;">Your instincts for finding jackassery never fail you</span><br /><br />It was part insult, part compliment and part fortune cookie wisdom. Either way, I think it's absolutely correct and maybe even worthy of being a tattoo on my body someday.<br /></span></span>WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-17268791631316159452007-09-24T20:44:00.000-04:002007-09-25T11:05:29.663-04:00Bacon That SausageEverybody knows that bacon is delicious. Really, most meat considered suitable for breakfast is. This weekend an acquaintance was making some bacon. I was patiently waiting by for a piece. As the bacon is cooking he busts out some sausage patties. Breakfast is looking batter and better, right? Well yes, but the curious thing here is that it wasn't breakfast time at all. It was like 10pm. But whatever! If salty pork products are being made who am I to complain about the timing?<br /><br />Anyway, the bacon is pretty much cooked and the cook has not bothered to drain any of the bacon grease at all so there is a pretty deep collection of artery clogging liquid in the bottom of the pan. As he pulls the bacon out I'm expecting him to dump the grease in a can or whatever and continue to stage two -- sausage. As opposed to the expected grease drain and then sausage cook he just goes straight in with the sausage. Now we're cooking sausage right in the bacon goodness! Genius.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/Rvhcztyr9vI/AAAAAAAAAKk/MVER9WPSTIs/s1600-h/breakfast+face.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113939420414473970" style="CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/Rvhcztyr9vI/AAAAAAAAAKk/MVER9WPSTIs/s200/breakfast+face.jpg" align="right" border="0" /></a><br />Sure I've cooked eggs in some bacon grease, some potatoes in bacon grease and maybe even a couple of pancakes in a little residual bacon grease, but I don't think I've ever bathed my sausage in bacon grease. I'm guessing 5 out of 5 doctors would agree that this isn't a good idea, but I am also guessing that 5 out of 5 doctors would agree that this idea is mighty delicious.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-13197161843959332702007-09-20T23:38:00.000-04:002007-09-20T23:53:08.886-04:00Whorin' Across AmericaThis posting on craigslist got me wondering many things, but mostly, who the fuck in their right mind would buy into this "deal"?:<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a style="font-family: courier new;" href="http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/rid/427573769.html" target="blank"></a><blockquote><a style="font-family: courier new;" href="http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/rid/427573769.html" target="blank">Ladies-Cheap/free ride to SF or LA 9/28</a><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Reply to: comm-427573769@craigslist.org</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Date: 2007-09-20, 4:29PM EDT</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">The trip:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Western PA</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Chicago</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Omaha</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Laramie</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Salt Lake City</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Reno</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">SF-2 nights</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Big Sur</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">LA</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">All hotels three star or better. Real restaurants,no Denny.s no fast food.</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">The options:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Share all expenses. Rooms with two beds or get your own room.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I pay for rooms with two beds and we share my bed an hour each night.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I pay for hotels,gas, meals and all expenses. We share one bed each night</span></blockquote><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /></span>I suppose the "own room" option isn't bad, except that you know the guy you are in the car with all the way across America is creepy as hell and is wanting to hump you for the cost of splitting a hotel room. What's that, maybe $40 in most parts of the country? The other option will save you money, but will have you in that creepy guy's hotel bed for at least 9 nights. Sure it's just one hour each night, but that one hour is probably 60 minutes more than would be comfortable. And of course, this is all contingent upon you making it past night three without being chopped up and thrown in a ditch. <br /><br />It's like a movie waiting to happen. <br /><br />And no, I'm not the guy who posted that deal.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-17262995360571057982007-09-15T11:16:00.000-04:002007-09-14T11:16:16.905-04:00Watch LoveSo I got myself a new watch. Mostly for running which I have been trying to do yet again. I did a half-marathon not too long ago, but once I was done with that what did I do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I ran twice the week following just to stretch out and get back in the groove, but it was really hot that week and as opposed to getting back in the groove all I did was get really sweaty, curse a lot and complain about how my legs hurt. After that, I sat on my ass for close to a month.<br /><br />I'm beginning to face facts that I don't really like running. I don't look forward to running or get runner's high or anything like that. I do get a sense of accomplishment if I reach a goal I have set for myself and I tend to lose some weight and I think I must like self inflicted torture on some level, but other than that running is not my friend. Anyway, now I'm back into it again and since the battery on my old watch was dying I just opted for a new watch. This is the one I got: <a href="http://www.highgear.com/prod/EnduroMax58.cfm?InventoryID=58&CategoryID=11" target="blank">Highgear Enduro Max</a> (in red).<br /><br />Fancy.<br /><br />I haven't even gone running with this watch yet, but I love it. Yeah, so I'm excited about a watch. Fuck off.<br /><br />Black and red (my favorite), easy to use, on sale at <a href="http://www.campmor.com/" target="blank">Campmor</a> and has all the features I need/want. I am especially excited at the fact that it has the ability to keep track of intervals. So if I want to run for five minutes and then walk for one minute and then run for 15 minutes and then walk for three (or whatever combo I'd like), the watch can be set to count that down for me. No more math in my head while trying to run. The less math the better I like to say. I didn't even know this watch had this ability until I got it home, making it a pleasant surprise indeed. I had asked around at various stores for years trying to find a watch that did this. Everyone would always tell me that such a thing did not exist. Most watches would have a standard chronograph and a countdown timer and usually some sort of lap counter, but not something for intervals. Well, my quest is now over. Thanks, Highgear.<br /><br />If you'll please excuse me, I'm going to go have some sex with my watch now.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-6915079726519274942007-09-13T23:42:00.001-04:002007-09-14T11:14:42.538-04:00Playtime OverThis is a sad state of affairs, no? The Playpen not only closed, but knocked to the ground?: <a href="http://www.1010wins.com/pages/940493.php?contentType=4&contentId=912514" target="blank">Old Times Square Theater Now Porno Emporium Faces Wrecking Ball</a> I hate it.<br /><br />Not only is the <a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/56/134112646_c228f5d1cf.jpg" target="blank">Playpen</a> the only filthy Times Squarish porn joint I have ever been in (very briefly), but it also served as the backdrop for the liner photos on Kid Rock's <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Devil Without A Cause</span>. Not a landmark, my ass! I say build your big, "luxury" high rise and keep the facade, marquee and all. It would be awesome.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">"Hey man, where do you live again?</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">"Oh, I live in the Playpen building."</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">"Sweet. I'll be right over."</span><br /><br />I'm no real estate mogul, but keeping that facade certainly sounds like two things: (1) Genius. (2) Gold mine.<br /><br />Think about it, Tishman. Think about it.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-56711429955404514472007-09-11T13:22:00.000-04:002007-09-11T16:02:49.630-04:00Slightly Therapeutic. Only Slightly.So another September 11th is upon us. I would like to think that at some point this day will stop being a depressing, reminiscing, anger brewing day, but I'm sure this is the way it will always be. This year sucks extra as it's pretty difficult for me not to trek through Ground Zero and the chaos that surrounds it on the way to work via the PATH train. Conveniently, I got out of the subway and was a quarter of a block away from Ground Zero when the bells start ringing, signaling the time when the first plane hit. Downer. And this rainy weather certainly isn't helping either. I can't believe all that went down six years ago. How fucking old am I?<br /><br />Anyway, I don't care to watch any video montages of that sunny day back in 2001 or really blah, blah, blah about this, but I figure some sort of WTC something is in order, no? How about one of my favorite uses for the towers ever (at least in a media sort of way)?: <center><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Mz2jVe3AGaY"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Mz2jVe3AGaY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object></center> Is <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fred_Durst" target="blank">Fred Durst</a> a tool? You betcha, but that's not the point. Rockin' out on the roof of the south tower is pretty cool (Who gets to do that? And how much did all that cost -- clearance, helicopters, dancing girls?) Personally I find it a bit less depressing than watching planes hit buildings, people jumping to their death and lots of running from explosions of dust. Wes Borland's makeup is pretty cool too. Take note.<br /><br />Keep your chin up, everyone.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-30107142591499206952007-09-06T23:26:00.001-04:002007-09-06T23:48:56.498-04:00Not On Oprah's List, But I Don't CareAfter work today I went to the <a href="http://www.strandbooks.com/" target="blank">Strand</a> where I picked me up some books. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RuDIzqiWZHI/AAAAAAAAAKc/2mlWm9zIZPA/s1600-h/cab.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RuDIzqiWZHI/AAAAAAAAAKc/2mlWm9zIZPA/s200/cab.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107302767355389042" border="0" /></a> Imagine that, me reading! Anyway, among the books selected, I picked up Melissa Plaut's book, <span style="font-style: italic;">Hack: How I Stopped Worrying About What to Do with My Life and Started Driving a Yellow Cab</span>.<br /><br />I've been reading her <a href="http://newyorkhack.blogspot.com/" target="blank">blog</a> for quite some time now and figured why not see how she is in non-electronic form and at the same time possibly contribute some cash to someone who seems like a decent human being.<br /><br />I can't really give a review yet (nor will I knowing my laziness), but I can tell you a couple of things. First, I was reading her book on the train uptown tonight and read right through my stop. I didn't notice I had missed it until I was two stops past where I should have gotten off. That must be some sort of endorsement. Also, during my ride uptown and then back out to Brooklyn I managed to read 52 pages which is very unlike me. So, my review at this point is "thumbs up." Go ahead and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/1400066042?tag=neyoha-20&camp=14573&creative=327641&linkCode=as1&creativeASIN=1400066042&adid=0HX64MNA6C6N8GRDV2MP&" target="blank">buy it</a>.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-73882363994512649232007-08-28T12:23:00.000-04:002007-08-28T12:25:57.579-04:00Just When I Thought Things Were Gettin' BetterAnother fun day in my 'hood ... three blocks from my apartment: <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/news/crime_file/2007/08/28/2007-08-28_brooklyn_girl_shot_leads_little_brother_.html" target="blank"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Brooklyn Girl Shot, Leads Little Brother To Safety</span></a><br /><br />And that girl? Totally badass.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-37053713736472555012007-08-27T14:34:00.000-04:002007-08-27T14:52:01.450-04:00Consolidate My PocketI always seem to have my pockets filled with crap when I leave the house. Keys, cash, cell phone, credit cards, ID, ATM card, MetroCard, PATH QuickCard, grocery store discount cards, library card, insurance cards, blah, blah blah. Sure, some of it I never seem to use, but the one day I leave it at home is always the day I need it. This little iCache may just be my answer to me livin' a bit lighter: <a href="http://www.icache.com/" target="blank">iCache</a><br /><br />Keep that in mind, Santa.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-30011649249647328752007-08-27T00:25:00.001-04:002007-08-27T00:35:24.093-04:00Who Doesn't?I went to N.J. today and the first car I see when leaving the ferry terminal had this awesome bumper sticker on it:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RtJTvqiWZDI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/nVxOuxf_qlM/s1600-h/NJ+roadhead.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RtJTvqiWZDI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/nVxOuxf_qlM/s400/NJ+roadhead.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103233406101513266" border="0" /></a>Maybe the greatest bumper sticker of all time.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-72882286795843753662007-08-20T23:15:00.000-04:002007-08-20T23:22:46.107-04:00Slightly BingeyHere you go, <a href="http://www.lozo.blogspot.com/" target="blank"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Lozo</span></a>. No more toe photo. You can stop your crying ...<br /><br />This weekend I went away with some of my friends and despite not being quite as young and iron-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">livered</span> as we used to be we still managed to drink a fairly decent amount of booze. Along with the cans of <a href="http://www.history.rochester.edu/class/beer/genny.htm" target="blank"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Genesee</span></a> and Coors Light (I don't know why -- leave me alone), we also busted into the hard stuff. It was a textbook binge drinking sort of situation. Note this photo:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RspOYaiWZCI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/M905RzNIUBk/s1600-h/binge.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RspOYaiWZCI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/M905RzNIUBk/s400/binge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100975709297730594" border="0" /></a>That <a href="http://www.chivascircle.com/" target="blank">Chivas</a> bottle? 1.75 liters. Little more than halfway gone. That emptiness is due to myself and one of my friends going a bit overboard one night.<br /><br />The other bottle? That's 90.4 proof <a href="http://www.smirnoff.com/" target="" blank="">Smirnoff</a>. At the liquor store, there was two bottles of Smirnoff to chose from. One, the standard 80 proof, the other the 90.4 proof., both the same price. I'll take the kick in the face please. About three quarters of that bottle was gone by morning. That was me too. That was split with a different friend the night after the Chivas night.<br /><br />Moral of the story? I think at the time there was one, but at this point, I don't really know. Nevertheless, I think my liver hates me.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-20618627468668910012007-08-13T01:12:00.000-04:002007-08-13T10:08:46.232-04:00Toe vs. CartMaybe it's too many years of having my groceries delivered by <a href="http://www.freshdirect.com/" target="blank">Fresh Direct</a> or perhaps it's just the fact that I am a shopping spaz, but here's what a trip to the grocery store on Friday resulted in:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/Rr_mNS7yyJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/Pj1qO7-xbb4/s1600-h/purple.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098046419302008978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/Rr_mNS7yyJI/AAAAAAAAAJk/Pj1qO7-xbb4/s400/purple.jpg" border="0" /></a>Yeah, so accidentally kicking the wheel of your shopping cart, while trying to get at some produce isn't good. Unless turning your little, defenseless toe a purplish black is somehow good.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-88349422187653949352007-08-10T10:48:00.000-04:002007-08-10T10:50:29.956-04:00The Ohio and The BklynSo, as I previously mentioned, I've been out in not so sunny Cleveland, OH for work. It was a two week stay, then back to New York for the weekend as I was signed up to run the <a href="http://www.nyrr.org/races/pro/nychalf/07story.asp" target="blank">NYC Half-Marathon</a> and then after brunch and repacking, it was back to Cleveland again for another week.<br />Cleveland has involved work (obviously), a baseball game (<a href="http://www.sportsline.com/mlb/gamecenter/recap/MLB_20070729_MIN@CLE" target="blank">Indians vs. Twins</a>), some runs through some sketchy neighborhoods, a lot of corned beef sandwiches, some grilling, a lot of rain, some bowling (143 and 137, thank you very much), many comments about Styrofoam and other environmental fiascos the city seems to embrace, some beers, a couple of concerts (Slayer/Marilyn Manson & Incubus/The Bravery), lunchtime naps in my <a href="http://www.ichotelsgroup.com/h/d/cp/1/en/hotel/clesc?_requestid=169016" target="blank">hotel</a> room, etc. It's not the worst place in the world, but certainly not the best either.<br /><br />Speaking of worst places in the world ... remember how I <a href="http://stinktown.blogspot.com/2007/07/new-pad.html" target="blank">recently</a> <a href="http://stinktown.blogspot.com/2007/07/stop-me-when-im-passin-by.html" target="blank">moved</a>? Well, while I don't find my neighborhood scary or horrible (yet) there have been a few neighborhood "incidents" that are making me wonder what the hell I have gotten myself into.<br /><br />Incident #1: Saturday, (the day I moved in), this guy manages to carjack two different cars, shot at the home of his girlfriend and then got killed by the police in a shootout (135 shots, NYPD? Really?). <em><a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/news/crime_file/2007/07/09/2007-07-09_gunmans_gal_pal_blames_jealousy-1.html" target="blank">story</a></em><br /><br />Incident #2: Early Monday morning (two days after I moved in), police pull over a stolen SUV. As they approach the vehicle, both cops are shot. One dies, the other would have been dead if not for his bulletproof vest. <em><a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/news/crime_file/2007/07/09/2007-07-09_2_cops_shot_during_traffic_stop.html" target="blank">story</a></em><br />Note: the dickheads involved were caught quickly<br /><br />Incident #3: This past Saturday, when I came back to NYC from Cleveland, I get in a cab at LGA to go home. I tell the driver where I am going and he looks at me in the rear view and says in a thick Indian accent, "That's not a very nice area, sir." Gee, thanks. Either way, that's where I live so let's just go. The as we get close, he adds, "Perhaps this is not a very good neighborhood for you. When I drive around here, if I get lost? I don't stop to ask for directions. I just keep going."<br /><br />Incident #4: This past Sunday, post running the half-marathon, as I'm cleaning up the apartment and myself a bit and packing for my return to Cleveland, the doorbell rings. I answer it and see a guy standing there with a badge around his neck. He introduces himself as whatever his rank is at the NYPD and asks if I live in this apartment. I tell him I do. He asks if I was home last night. I tell him I was. He asks if I heard or saw anything unusual outside the night previous. I tell him that I was in the back of the apartment in my room or the "office" most of the night and ask why he is asking. He tells me, "There was an argument between two men out here last night and one of them got stabbed." Perfect.<br /><br />So, that's the fun in my life at this point. Two more days here in The Cleve and I'm back to my glamorous NYC life.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-1715058086477591802007-08-04T21:25:00.000-04:002007-08-04T21:26:33.530-04:00Secret SauceI've been out in Cleveland, OH for work the last couple of weeks. More on that later.<br /><br />In the meantime, check out this receipt from a pizza I ordered from <a href="http://www.donatos.com/" target="blank">Donatos</a> while out there:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RrUlTy7yyII/AAAAAAAAAJc/KFFZRl-1MDg/s1600-h/CS.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RrUlTy7yyII/AAAAAAAAAJc/KFFZRl-1MDg/s400/CS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095019575459891330" border="0" /></a>CUMSHAKE? I don't remember ordering that at all.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-43368273134626703032007-07-19T11:42:00.000-04:002007-07-19T11:47:34.983-04:00Nothing To See HereThis <a href="http://newyork.craigslist.org/stn/rid/377346903.html" target="blank">post</a> on craigslist isn't even a tad bit sketchy:<br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>I need to rent someone car with tinted windows</strong><br /></span>Reply to: </span><a href="mailto:comm-377346903@craigslist.org"><span style="font-family:courier new;">comm-377346903@craigslist.org</span></a><span style="font-family:courier new;"><br />Date: 2007-07-19, 11:11AM EDT<br /><br />I need a car with tinted widows to rent thanks<br /><br />Location: Staten island<br />it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests<br />PostingID: 377346903</span>WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-11295251871622122962007-07-19T00:31:00.000-04:002007-07-19T00:33:44.679-04:00Lexington CraterSo I happened to be in midtown (or whatever you want to call that neighborhood) last evening and got to witness this <a href="http://www.1010wins.com/pages/695259.php?contentType=4&contentId=700377" target="blank">shitshow</a>. Crazy.<br /><br />I took an obligatory cell phone photo and once again kicked myself for not carrying my real camera with me more regularly:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/Rp7i4x3whwI/AAAAAAAAAJU/EoiGY8G2Huc/s1600-h/SP_A0004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/Rp7i4x3whwI/AAAAAAAAAJU/EoiGY8G2Huc/s400/SP_A0004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088754094062995202" border="0" /></a> <center style="font-family: times new roman;">Mmmmmmm smokey</center><br />I have to wonder if a bit of karma or cosmic intervention or luck or whatever might have saved my ass. On my way up to 42nd Street on the 4 train, we get to 14th Street/Union Square and proceed to get stuck in the station for like 15 minutes due to some door issues. I guess they wouldn't shut or something. If not for that, I probably would have continued on as planned, got off the train at 42nd Street and walked back down Lexington to my destination. And the timing of it all makes me think that I very well could have been right around the explosion zone at the wrong time. Instead, thanks to some crappy door, I wound up getting off my 4 train and got on the 6 train (also slow). When we got to 33rd Street they announced that it would be the last stop and everyone got off only to come upstairs to a giant cloud of smoke and steam.<br /><br />Man September 11th has changed everyone. It's just complete panic if anything goes wrong. Not that I wasn't thinking like that too, but it really is shitty that when anything of decent magnitude happens we all think "terrorists!"<br /><br />So anyway, it wasn't terrorists so that's nice and I guess I owe that shitty door some thanks. Or maybe the stars. I don't know. Either way, I feel pretty OK to be alive.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-2580673416966941002007-07-17T23:08:00.000-04:002007-07-17T23:26:52.385-04:00Stop Me When I'm Passin' BySo this new neighborhood of mine is quite different from my old one. There are a lot of things such as (a) I'm the only white person that I've seen and (b) there are lots of anti-robbery styled Chinese restaurants and delis. There are plenty more, but I don't know that they need to be discussed here and now. That said, the one difference that I think is the most entertaining so far is the ice cream man.<br /><br />Now maybe I've lived a sheltered life, but most of my experience involves the ice cream man rolling by in the afternoon or evening -- targeting times when kids with money from mom and/or dad can chase them down. Not around these parts. The first night I was here was a Saturday and two friends were over enjoying some Chinese food and a 40 oz. or two. Then that distinctive ice cream man music came sailing through the sticky Brooklyn air. It didn't even really register at first, but then a couple of minutes later my friend says, <span style="font-style: italic;">"The fucking ice cream man? It's 12:45! A.M.!"</span> I instantly think of <a href="http://etnies.muskatli.hu/pic/gtavc/images/gtavc_deals_gif.jpg" target="blank">Mr. Whoopee</a> from Vice City out delivering things other than ice cream.<br /><br />Then tonight I just heard him again. 11:04pm on a Tuesday? Lot of kids out there? Maybe there are. I don't really know nor do I feel like looking, but nevertheless, it's odd. At least odd for everywhere else I've ever lived.<br /><br />Ah, Brooklyn.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-10350661692629874142007-07-16T22:50:00.000-04:002007-07-17T21:47:17.483-04:00When Lacking in Material Run With Gore(d)So I was going to blog and then sort of drew a blank. There's some shit I wanted to blah, blah, blah about, but can't for various reasons. It's a little annoying to say the least but that's life I suppose. Anyway, just so I don't have nothing at all, I thought I would post a photo. Photos are always fun, no?<br /><br />So, I was away this weekend. Where? None of your F'ing business, that's where. Ha! Anyway, when I was away this weekend I picked up the local paper during breakfast/TV watching and there was a nice, big version of this photo. Pretty sick for a family publication, but really, who's going to pass on this shit when the AP shoves it in your face?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RpwjHB3whvI/AAAAAAAAAJM/sj8el0wtG0s/s1600-h/shintastic.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RpwjHB3whvI/AAAAAAAAAJM/sj8el0wtG0s/s400/shintastic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087980282690176754" border="0" /></a> <center><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"> Michael Lenahan, 23, of Philadelphia, Pa. is gored in the leg by a fighting bull during a traditional bull run in Pamplona, Spain, Thursday July 12, 2007. Two American brothers were gored Thursday during the longest and bloodiest morning bull run at the San Fermin festival in the northeastern city of Pamplona. Lawrence Lenahan, 26, of Hermosa Beach, Calif. and Michael Lenahan, 23, of Philadelphia, Pa. were gored by a bull who strayed from the pack, turned around and ran the wrong way. The older brother suffered a eight-inch (20-centimeter) goring in the left buttock after a dangerous sharp right turn in the course Lenahan described as a 'dead man's curve.' The younger brother was injured shortly before the bull ring, the end point of the daily runs, after the bulls horn entered beneath his skin in his right shin. (AP Photo/ Inaki Porto) [<a href="http://news.yahoo.com/photo/070713/481/ef5af798074f4a4e8070577d110017a8" target="blank">http://news.yahoo.com/photo/070713/481/ef5af798074f4a4e8070577d110017a8</a>]</span></span></center><br />And if you read that caption, you'll see that Shin Boy <span style="font-style: italic;">and</span> his brother both got gored. Worst running family ever it seems.<br /><br />I knew it was bad, but the color version really shows the detail a little better than the B&W version in the newspaper. I think it's safe to say that this is not something you want happening to your leg. Ever.<br /><br />I'm into piercings, body modification and cool scars, but a horn under my skin from mid-shin to knee is a bit much. Nevertheless, who wants to run next year? It looks like fun. Oh, and you Lenahans ain't invited.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-19651210266350592562007-07-09T13:02:00.000-04:002007-07-09T13:23:33.763-04:00New Pad<div align="left">So as of this past Saturday afternoon I am a resident of Brooklyn. You can probably tell as I am already way more hip and slightly more gangsta.<br /><br />When I first moved to NYC, I lived in Manhattan for a bit, but then moved to Brooklyn where I spent a year in a rather annoying and awkward living situation. Although I managed to have fun (mostly thanks to $1.75 PBRs at <a href="http://stinktown.blogspot.com/2004/07/dont-leave-us-idiot.html" target="blank">The Village Idiot</a>), it wasn't my greatest year on the planet by any means. I sort of blamed Brooklyn and swore to never move back, but here I am once again. But whatever, I think this time through it might be a little better. If nothing else I'm sure it will result in some blogging material (let's hope).<br /><br />Also nice is the fact that I can now make use of some popular (or not so popular if you're not me) music that just isn't fitting unless living in Brooklyn. Well I suppose it could be, but I think it's a little bit better as a resident. Let's see:<br /><br /><strong>Beastie Boys</strong> (featuring Kerry King of <a href="http://stinktown.blogspot.com/2007/02/slayed.html" target="blank">Slayer</a> fame on the guitar solo)<br />"No Sleep Till Brooklyn"<br />You know you this will be in my head during every late night journey back home. Rule of the year -- don't fall asleep until I get to my bed. Or at least the couch.<br />Universal Music Group ain't down with the embedded feature so you'll have to hassle yourself with a link: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RI2IyHXJo5M" target="blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RI2IyHXJo5M</a><br /><br /><strong>Biohazard</strong><br />"Five Blocks To The Subway"<br />This is nice as my new crib is actually five blocks away from the subway. Now I can honestly sing along "<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Five blocks to the subway, I can do that any day.</span>" Any day. I did it this morning as a matter of fact.<br /></div><center><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qVO8tSbJgPY" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed></center><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qVO8tSbJgPY" target="blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qVO8tSbJgPY</a><br /><br /><strong>Biohazard</strong><br />"Wrong Side Of The Tracks"<br />This is all about gearin' up for possible trouble when wondering around, but probably more useful when wanting to (a) scare my family with how tough my neighborhood is or (b) building street cred with all those pansy friends of mine who are back in fancy Manhattan or the suburbs. I'm tough now. Remember that! Oh, the phrase that makes it all work is "<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">And when you're in fuckin' Brooklyn, you best watch your back!</span>"<br /><center><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/k-Qw0Y_w6n4" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed></center><p><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-Qw0Y_w6n4" target="blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-Qw0Y_w6n4</a><br /><br /><strong>3rd Bass</strong><br />"Brooklyn-Queens"<br />After those Biohazard tunes, you have to lighten the mood a bit. How better than with some good ol' 3rd Bass? Brooklyn footage, sweet 1989 fashion and some dope dance moves by MC Search (including a sweet leap frog move) make an already catchy tune even better when in video form. Feel free to sing along.<br />Another Universal Music Group restricted deal (what's up with you, Universal?): <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4WWDprtFMM" target="blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4WWDprtFMM</a>WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-83436425881131377332007-07-09T00:07:00.000-04:002007-07-09T14:27:05.931-04:00Watta Ya, Born In A Barn?So on Saturday I moved out of <strike>Stink</strike><a href="http://www.stuytown.com/" target="blank">Stuytown</a> to head for greener pastures. Greener? Well probably not, but definitely cheaper pastures at least.<br /><br />On my way out I had one of those nice last kicks that made the leaving less bittersweet and more just F.U., I'm out.<br /><br />I'm standing by the moving truck guarding all my riches and this older woman comes out and heads my way. She's old enough to be my mom and seems pleasant enough. She starts off with "You have the door propped open." Definitely a statement, not a question.<br /><br /><blockquote>Me: <em>Yeah</em>.<br /><br />Lady: <em>You know there was a break in a few weeks ago because the door was propped open and someone got held up at knife point</em>.<br /><br />Me: [thinking "Bullshit, lady"]: <em>No, I didn't hear that</em>.<br /><br />Lady: <em>Well it happened</em>.<br /><br />Me: <em>Sorry to hear that</em>.<br /><br />Lady: <em>Well the door shouldn't be open</em>.<br /><br />Me: <em>OK</em>.<br /><br />Lady: <em>You wouldn't think a knife point hold up was funny if it was your mother or girlfriend or sister</em>.<br /><br />Me: <em>I don't really think it's funny now. I'm not laughing</em>.<br /><br />Lady: <em>Well it's serious</em>.<br /><br />Me: <em>OK. I know that</em>.<br /><br />Lady: <em>You are standing here within sight of the door, I understand that, but you don't know who lives here and who doesn't</em>.<br /><br />Me: <em>OK. I get it</em>.<br /><br />Lady: [walking away] <em>If you get it, then go shut the fucking door</em>.<br /><br />Me: <em>I'm not sure why you are cursing at me</em>.<br /><br />Lady: <em>Fuck you</em>.</blockquote>Geez. How I'll miss my friendly, friendly neighbors.<br /><br />On a side note, the neighbors I "<a href="http://stinktown.blogspot.com/2007/06/smokey-wakeup.html" target="blank">saved</a>" were nice about me leaving. No "F" word at all. The lady gave me a hug and even got a little teary and the guy gave me a "Good luck out there kid" which is I think as close to a hug as he's ever come.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-335789788121110742007-06-24T23:37:00.000-04:002007-06-25T00:08:02.592-04:00Chili DogI'm not Mr. Sports by any means, but this is a sports story that inspires a little mention here in Stinktown. <a href="http://cbs.sportsline.com/mlb/story/10235866" target="blank">Rod Beck was found dead</a> in his home on Saturday. Two things motivated me to write here.<br /><br />The first is that he was 38. This always freaks me out. It sounds pretty young to die to begin with, but then I realize that I'm only four years younger than that and I think "shit I'm old" and also reinforces that 38 is too young to die. At least for me.<br /><br />The second thing is my friend and former co-worker, Matt D. Matt is probably the only reason I paid any legitimate attention to Beck. This happened back when Beck was on the (hated) Red Sox. One night we were watching the some Yankees/Red Sox action on the work TV (watch CNN my ass!) and Beck was just being his usual fat, messy, crazy mustache-wearin' self, but that was enough for us.<br /><blockquote>Matt says to me something like, "<span style="font-style: italic;">You know what that guy's favorite food is?</span>"<br /><br />I say, "<span style="font-style: italic;">No, what?</span>"<br /><br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">Chili dogs.</span>"<br /><br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">What? How do you know that?</span>"<br /><br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">I don't know. He just </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/baseball/mlb/1999/postseason/championship_series/alcs/news/1999/10/13/redsox_yankees_ap/lg_beck_ap_01.jpg" target="blank">looks</a><span style="font-style: italic;"> like he eats chili dogs all day long.</span>"<br /><br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">You have a point. That's entirely possible.</span>"</blockquote>I was sort of mulling over the idea of eating nothing buy chili dogs a little while later while still watching the game and Matt comes by again.<br /><blockquote>"<span style="font-style: italic;">You know the flavor that gum Beck is chewing?</span>"<br />I look over at Matt and before I could throw out a guess ... "<span style="font-style: italic;">Chili dog.</span>"<br /></blockquote>So, ever since that day I've referred to Rod Beck as "Chili Dog" and probably always will. I hope Beck will understand that this isn't all that much of an insult coming from someone with my eating habits and won't ask God to drag me off this wacky planet in less than four years. I've got shit to do around here still.<br /><br />Thanks for the memories, Chili Dog.WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7142164.post-44836567272218847142007-06-14T00:46:00.000-04:002007-06-15T01:23:48.548-04:00Smokey WakeupSo I'll start by saying that I sleep pretty heavy. If there is one thing I do in this world well, it's sleep. I've been known to sleep through some pretty loud shit in my day and honestly it is nice.<br /><br />So, that said, last night I'm doing my usual deep sleep and I get blown out of it with the sound of breaking glass. The first one I'm thinking maybe it is just some A-hole garbage truck guys throwing shit in the back of the truck, and don't allow myself to get all the way awake, but then another one comes and another. I jump out of bed. It's 2:50am. I go to the window figuring that someone is smashing up someone's car windows or something. Maybe some sort of Jerry Springerish love triangle exposed or something. When I look out, there's none of that. Instead, it's a big fucking fire truck, ladder extended up to the 5th floor (just three floors under me) with a fireman smashing out my neighbors windows so they can get at what? A fucking <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jUgXuTT1PUY" target="blank">fire</a>. A fucking fire! Just three floors below. Holy shit!<br /><br />Years of stupid fire drills at work and school and then all kinds of PSAs and educational pamphlets and movies and whatever else fire-related shit I have in storage fly through my head. I grab some shorts, jump in them, throw on my newly purchased flip flops and gather up money, cell phone and credit cards/ID. I quickly rethink my process and then opt for sneakers instead of flip flops as that seems like open toe style could be a mistake. I open the door (after feeling it first, of course) and the hall is filled with smoke. Stinky smoke. It wasn't so bad that I had to crawl or anything, but I did put my shirt over my mouth and nose. I knock and ring doorbells waking up neighbors (Hero!!) and hit the stairwell furthest from the fire.<br /><br />Once I got below the 5th floor I felt a little safer and tried to get the adrenaline under control. I was still pretty jittery for awhile though. I think waking up to glass breaking alone would have gotten me riled up, but the fire along with it was sort of overdose.<br /><br />Anyway, the fire was put out and other than the usual water/smoke damage I think everything ended well. My hall still smells a bit smokey and I'm sure there are some messed up apartments, but mine is fine. Phew. I was able to get back in bed around 4ish and got back to what I do best, sleep ... and oversleep, making myself late for work. Perfect.<br /><br />Here are some photos from the night taken with my cell. I missed most of the action (the smoke, flame and glass smashing) but at least it's something:<br /><br />From the ground, looking up:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RnIWiYzSkkI/AAAAAAAAAIc/6tMvpoVuF9E/s1600-h/SP_A0047.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RnIWiYzSkkI/AAAAAAAAAIc/6tMvpoVuF9E/s400/SP_A0047.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076144510028911170" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RnIWdIzSkjI/AAAAAAAAAIU/TFNUiLfKmvA/s1600-h/SP_A0046.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RnIWdIzSkjI/AAAAAAAAAIU/TFNUiLfKmvA/s400/SP_A0046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076144419834597938" border="0" /></a><br /><br />From my living room window looking down:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RnIWsozSkmI/AAAAAAAAAIs/e7Q4DqaIURw/s1600-h/SP_A0049.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RnIWsozSkmI/AAAAAAAAAIs/e7Q4DqaIURw/s400/SP_A0049.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076144686122570338" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RnIWnYzSklI/AAAAAAAAAIk/TBua91rzHKk/s1600-h/SP_A0048.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0WfT1XcC-kc/RnIWnYzSklI/AAAAAAAAAIk/TBua91rzHKk/s400/SP_A0048.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076144595928257106" border="0" /></a>WJRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11190018044260033018noreply@blogger.com2