Escaping The Grind

Not that you would really notice anyway, thanks to the lack of posting 'round these parts as of late, but yours truly is going to be not posting for a little bit thanks to some vacation. I'll be gone for a bit, but upon my return, I will return with photos and magical tales of land, sea and air adventure.

Culture Upgrade?

This past weekend I got myself a little cultured for once. I went to a Broadway show. Fancy, no?

I saw Avenue Q. It was the 2004 Tony Awards winner for Best Musical. Fancy.

In actuality, despite the musical aspect of it, I'm not sure it falls into the culture category. It has puppets in it which is sort of the lower end of the culture spectrum to begin with and these puppets curse, drink and have sex. It's certainly no Les Miserables in the eyes of most.

Nevertheless, I'm putting that down as culture.

Peep-N-Sheep

On the way home from work today, stopped in Ricky's for some hair dye (just in case). The woman in front of me in line is buying the following:

(1) 4 piece Little Bo Peep costume - something like this.
(1) box of 12 Trojan Twisted Pleasure condoms.

Total cost $84 and some change.

I have the feeling that sheep is in for the night of his life.

Chalkboard Grades: Art = A; Spelling = F

Long time no post ...

Well, here is something I saw on my way to Jeremy's Ale House last night that motivated me to get back on the blogging wagon:

Customer Service and Motherly Advice

I just got off the phone with one of my credit card companies. I had a question about my account. Things went smoothly and wrapped up nice and quick, just the way I like phone calls. The end of the conversation went a little beyond the usual financial talk:

Credit Card Lady: Is there anything else I can do for you today?
Me: Nope. I think that will do it.
CC Lady: OK, well happy Mother's Day.
Me: Oh, thanks. [pause] You too.
CC Lady: Thank you. Now go call your mother.
[Click]

The Wit of The Stadium

Last night, I went to one of the worst baseball games I have ever seen. Definitely the worst I have ever seen in person, and this includes T-Ball. The game was Yankees vs. the hated Red Sox. For the Yankees, it was a fiasco of horrible pitching, shitty fielding and a lack of hitting. Awful.

Despite this shit storm on the field, and the annoying fucks from Boston around me, it was fun. Plus I had a couple of overpriced beers and a hot dog, so that makes the night better than average. Here are three things I overheard that gave me a laugh.

Outside the stadium before the game, by the big bat (where everyone loves to meet their friends -- including me) a woman walks by. On the way into a stadium that is slowly filling with 54,000+ people. She says, "Why is it so crowded?"

Next, was some guy behind me who had the genius to switch the nickname of David Ortiz a bit for his own enjoyment. Instead of Big Papi, this guy was yelling, "Ortiz! Big Poopy! Big Poopy!"

My favorite, was later in the game. I was in the bathroom making room for more beer. Some guy comes in, waiting his turn. He gets his best Boston accent going, "I'm from Baaston. Where'd I paark my caaa. I'm from Baaston. Where'd I paark my caaa." A couple of chuckles. Then, "Guys from Baaston have wicked small penises. Wicked small."

The Trick

I've been listening to Cheap Trick The Greatest Hits. I can't, for the life of me figure out why they aren't in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. They certainly can hold their own against some of the other clowns already in there.

Even if you don't necessarily feel the same way I do, don't you think a band that includes a five neck guitar and an awesome display of facial hair like this deserves some recognition?

That is rock and roll my friends.

Insane in the MemBlaine

Last night I shot up to Lincoln Center to get a peep of David Blaine floating around in his watery, crystal ball. As all things that are free and slightly freakshowish, it attracted quite a mob of idiots. Blaine wasn't doing much of anything when I was there. Apparently he was getting his nasty, rotting hands treated, so he was just up by the top of the tank with his hands outside. I wanted to see something happen, maybe some swimming, or waving or whatever one does in a water-filled ball, but I'm not one to devote a lot of time to a waterlogged guy with rotting hands who may or not live past Monday, so I didn't stay long.

Back when I used to work in NYC, I worked a late shift for awhile, so I was getting out at midnight. I used to rollerblade to and from work too, so when he pulled the frozen in ice stunt in Times Square I stopped by on my roll home for a little Blaine time and then when he did the standing on a big pole stunt in Bryant Park, I got to see him with practically nobody around. Just me on a chair and Blaine standing 100 feet up. That was cool. Anyway, it wasn't so cool this time with so many people around.


This lady was the highlight of my visit. People could walk up and touch the ball or take photos or whatever, but there were security guys around doing a lot of "Keep moving folks" and "Take your pictures but the line needs to keep going." Well, this woman was having none of it. She was there to show good ol' D.B. her love for his soggy body with roses. Blaine wasn't really looking due to his body position and the fact that his hands are about to fall off. Although security kept telling her to move on, she held her ground. Eventually Blaine saw her (I think), however he couldn't really signal his thanks or return any sign of love because his hands were busy and he has an air regulator crammed in his mouth. Nevertheless, she left looking somewhat accomplished. I bet Blaine can't wait to get out of there and spend some quality time with his new girlfriend who is at least 20 years older than him. HOT! I guess that is some added incentive to survive holding your breath for nine minutes.

That is beyond my comprehension by the way. Nine minutes! That's some sick shit.

3 For Me

I was starting to sweat my promise to have something to blog about for a little bit, but these three ladies sharing my return ride on the PATH from work saved me: I'm generally not a big gawker on the train, but these three had me hooked from the moment I got on. The two adults were all over the little one in the middle. Doing something with her left ear. I don't know if there was something in there or if it was some sort of science project, but there was a lot of digging and poking with no results other than a dirty tissue and a lot of face making.

I then noticed that the girl's shirt said, I'M GOOD. ASK YOUR BOYFRIEND. In my opinion she was a tad on the young side for such an announcement of skankiness, but what do I know? Not much, but at least I know she is GOOD.

The next scene entailed the lady on the left putting bracelets on the young girl's arm I guess so she could look fancy for the big trip to NYC. She proceeded to push the first one up past her elbow, because "That's how I used to wear them when I was young." Well, apparently they had different arms back then because the bracelet lodged itself on her upper arm pudge and wouldn't come back down. There was panic in the girl's eyes when she realized that it was stuck. That look was still on her face when I got off at 14th Street, while the girl and the two ladies struggled with the stuck bracelet. I was briefly tempted to stay and watch the drama continue, but I was concerned they might ask me to get involved.

I've Got Nothing

I know I promised a couple of you T.L.B. fans some sort of update. I'm still having some sort of blockage of ideas, but I will certainly whip something up by tomorrow morning. I'm going to make something worth complaining about happen in the next 12 hours if it's the last thing I do. In the meantime, here is a tennis photo for you that will hopefully hold you over until then: