This post on craigslist isn't even a tad bit sketchy:
I need to rent someone car with tinted windows
Reply to: comm-377346903@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-07-19, 11:11AM EDT
I need a car with tinted widows to rent thanks
Location: Staten island
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 377346903
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Lexington Crater
So I happened to be in midtown (or whatever you want to call that neighborhood) last evening and got to witness this shitshow. Crazy.
I took an obligatory cell phone photo and once again kicked myself for not carrying my real camera with me more regularly:
Mmmmmmm smokey
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.
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!"
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.
I took an obligatory cell phone photo and once again kicked myself for not carrying my real camera with me more regularly:
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.
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!"
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.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Stop Me When I'm Passin' By
So 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.
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, "The fucking ice cream man? It's 12:45! A.M.!" I instantly think of Mr. Whoopee from Vice City out delivering things other than ice cream.
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.
Ah, Brooklyn.
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, "The fucking ice cream man? It's 12:45! A.M.!" I instantly think of Mr. Whoopee from Vice City out delivering things other than ice cream.
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.
Ah, Brooklyn.
Monday, July 16, 2007
When 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?
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?
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) [http://news.yahoo.com/photo/070713/481/ef5af798074f4a4e8070577d110017a8]
And if you read that caption, you'll see that Shin Boy and his brother both got gored. Worst running family ever it seems.
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.
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.
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?
And if you read that caption, you'll see that Shin Boy and his brother both got gored. Worst running family ever it seems.
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.
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.
Monday, July 9, 2007
New Pad
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.
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 The Village Idiot), 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).
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:
Beastie Boys (featuring Kerry King of Slayer fame on the guitar solo)
"No Sleep Till Brooklyn"
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.
Universal Music Group ain't down with the embedded feature so you'll have to hassle yourself with a link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RI2IyHXJo5M
Biohazard
"Five Blocks To The Subway"
This is nice as my new crib is actually five blocks away from the subway. Now I can honestly sing along "Five blocks to the subway, I can do that any day." Any day. I did it this morning as a matter of fact.
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 The Village Idiot), 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).
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:
Beastie Boys (featuring Kerry King of Slayer fame on the guitar solo)
"No Sleep Till Brooklyn"
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.
Universal Music Group ain't down with the embedded feature so you'll have to hassle yourself with a link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RI2IyHXJo5M
Biohazard
"Five Blocks To The Subway"
This is nice as my new crib is actually five blocks away from the subway. Now I can honestly sing along "Five blocks to the subway, I can do that any day." Any day. I did it this morning as a matter of fact.
Biohazard
"Wrong Side Of The Tracks"
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 "And when you're in fuckin' Brooklyn, you best watch your back!"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-Qw0Y_w6n4
3rd Bass
"Brooklyn-Queens"
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.
Another Universal Music Group restricted deal (what's up with you, Universal?): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4WWDprtFMM
Labels:
3rd Base,
Beastie Boys,
Biohazard,
Brooklyn,
Kerry King,
moving,
music,
Slayer
Watta Ya, Born In A Barn?
So on Saturday I moved out of StinkStuytown to head for greener pastures. Greener? Well probably not, but definitely cheaper pastures at least.
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.
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.
On a side note, the neighbors I "saved" 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.
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.
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.
Me: Yeah.Geez. How I'll miss my friendly, friendly neighbors.
Lady: 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.
Me: [thinking "Bullshit, lady"]: No, I didn't hear that.
Lady: Well it happened.
Me: Sorry to hear that.
Lady: Well the door shouldn't be open.
Me: OK.
Lady: You wouldn't think a knife point hold up was funny if it was your mother or girlfriend or sister.
Me: I don't really think it's funny now. I'm not laughing.
Lady: Well it's serious.
Me: OK. I know that.
Lady: You are standing here within sight of the door, I understand that, but you don't know who lives here and who doesn't.
Me: OK. I get it.
Lady: [walking away] If you get it, then go shut the fucking door.
Me: I'm not sure why you are cursing at me.
Lady: Fuck you.
On a side note, the neighbors I "saved" 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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)