Antique-ing

Really should be called craptique-ing.

And I'm back

Yes, this blog has been resurrected.

Partly because I discovered saggy folds of skin in my armpits. In an attempt to to provide a visual illustration of the saggy armpit skin folds, I googled armpit. It turned up bizarro images.

Anywho, yup, new color. New font. It's a new me.

Yey for us!

I know, I’ve been extremely lazy and have not done anything about this blog thingee. And it’s not like I’ve been that busy. Well, I have been busy enough because if I say I have not been busy, that means I was lying to all those people who call me to hang out.

Really, I’ve been busy!

Fortunately, all this spring busy-ness is coming to an end. Work is slowing down and I have only one more wedding to attend (nobody else better get married this year! – I know I will not). Of course, now that I finally got my friend to give my board a ride, I will be AWOL for the rest of the summer. This should be nice because all this drinking is beginning to show.

And for something completely different, I have been really excited to learn that drug companies have developed yet another pill that will stop menstrual periods completely. Yey! I can’t wait to pump my body full of chemicals and hormones so that I don’t have any periods. This makes me wonder – who is this really benefiting? Let’s examine:

For women
Pros: no periods, no babies
Cons: no periods, daily ingestion of hormones and chemicals, weight gain, loss of sexual drive, headaches, moodiness, blood clots

For men
Pros: no periods, no babies
Cons: sore dick from all that sexin’ (this actually may be a pro). Oh, I guess also fat partner who is never in the mood.

Hmm, maybe it’s time for some semen halting pills.

Here is the story: Birth control pill halts women's periods

God damn it, babies

Kurt Vonnegut has died.

It's a little creepy when you learn that he died from brain injuries as a result of a recent fall. And his birthday is a day after mine! OMG!!!!

Ok, that was rude.

Better than Bloomberg news

In the interest of efficiency, here are the latest news highlights from Greenpoint, Brooklyn:

March Madness is on. Unfortunately, the George Washington University’s basketball team lost the first round. I believe the final score was something along the lines of 34 vs. 100 gazillion. I don’t know the opponent, considering the pathetic loss, it doesn’t really matter. When I first saw the score, I thought it was half-time report. I was wrong. Oh well, GWU is not known for its basketball, it’s know for… um… uh… something, I am sure. Oh yea, rumor has it that the campus quad is ground zero in Washington, D.C. And I think the law school is decent.

I think Britney Spears is still in rehab.

And in case you were wondering, Naomi Campbell wore some sort of fancy clothing to her alternative-to-jail community service sentence. If you are truly interested, every news agency reported on her fashion choices last week, I am sure it’s easy to find.

In order to pull the troops out of Iraq, you have to pay $74 million for peanut storage first.

And lastly (you always save the best for last), I fell on my head. It’s true. I even have bruises, head concussion, and a dislocated shoulder to prove it. And no, I wasn’t drunk. But I felt woozy the first three days after the concussion so that’s kind of like feeling drunk. Unfortunately, I also don’t have health insurance since my job is dragging their feet to give me benefits and buying health insurance on my own is really expensive. Maybe if I bought more peanuts, someone will start paying attention and do something about decreasing the cost of health insurance premiums. Several people told me to sue but since I fell on the street, it means I would have to deal with the city and considering that they can’t get the G train to work properly, I probably would never see the end of the lawsuit. So, yes, I’ve been popping ibuprofen like Skittles and watching Judge Judy on my non-cable TV.

I am feeling better though, thanks for wondering. My shoulder is gaining more movement every day, my bruises are a beautiful greenish-blue color, and I can finally sleep on the side of my head where I hit it. I am not much of a phone talker though, that still hurts my head.

Probably not the smartest thing I've said

But I just realized that "dude" contains "dud" as in "that dude is a dud!" Ha.

OK, the truth be told, I am the person who checks my own blog six times a week.

Oh, this reminds me, this summer, when I was working at the court where I had a lot of free time, my friend recommended Evan Connell's "Mrs. Bridge" to kill all that free time. I thought it was hilarious, full of tongue-in-cheek commentary on a forgotten housewife. Then I read "Mr. Bridge," sort of a sequel, it wasn't as funny. Then I bought a sequence of Connell's books, including "Double Honeymoon." Anyways, the point to this post is that his "Son of the Morning Star," a non-fiction historical account of the battle at the Little Bighorn is probably one of the best and most hilarious narratives about the Indian Wars. Although I would assume they pronounced them "injians." I would even go as far as say that it's a close (yes, close) second to McCarthy's "Blood Meridian" which is loosely based on true facts. Anyone who knows me in real life, knows that "Blood Meridian" is my bible, or some sort of an equivalent, so having both compared is a great accomplishment for Connell in my eyes.

And apparently, ABC made into miniseries. And there are rumors that Oliver Stone will make a movie out of it.

I just read in Wikipedia that Tommy Lee Jones has film-making rights to "Blood Meridian." Strange.

On another note, Augusten Burrough's "Running with Scissors" is probably the most boring book I've read in a while. Formulaic David Sedaris-type jokes - lame!

I don't really care for David Sedaris either. The only two short stories that I liked were about him trying to flush down a huge piece of shit at someone else's house and the ups and downs of learning French. The funniest passage in that story was the class explaining Christmas to a Muslim woman in rudimentary French.

On a more positive note, thanks to the early time change in the U.S., it's still bright outside when I leave work. Can't wait til summer. Which is really code for can't wait to surf!!!

Listen up kids

I will start this post by thanking the six regular readers who check this site weekly. Although I suspect it’s actually less than 6 readers, perhaps just one person who checks the site daily. If that’s the case, dude, there are tons of better things go do.

Anyway, here are some of the most recent things that have happened in my life:

1. My Hispanic cowboy fetish dropped the fetish part for reasons I will not divulge on this blog thingee. It’s no one’s business anyway.

2. I have snapping hip syndrome.

3. At age 29, I finally learned why it is not such a good idea to make out/hook up with someone I just met. Let me elaborate. A few weeks ago, I met this kid. Since the fetish part came to a grinding halt, I decided a distraction would be therapeutic for me. The kid seemed nice, cute, somewhat funny. Since our first meeting ended abruptly, there was no opportunity for making out. Not that I was really hoping for it, but it did cross my mind. During our second “date,” I started to realize that we had nothing in common, not to mention that he told me that he had an “ex” who kept calling him. To minimize any sort of moments of awkwardness on my part, I decided to drink more beer. It worked. I also slurred every word that came out of my mouth. When we stumbled home, I mumbled something about him getting home safe and fled hastily. On our third “date,” the dude started asking me about my history of dating and told me how his friend suggested to him that next time we go out, he should invite me for a nightcap. He also told me something about making me a dinner of spaghetti with Prego from a jar. I rolled my eyes and steadily grew more repulsed by him.

Anyways, the moral of this story is that making out/hooking up is fun, but if you don’t know the dude, he may turn out to be a dud. Based on my non-scientific research, about 99% of them are either jerks or the dullest people on Earth, so holding off for a bit, say for a week, is a bright idea. Now the biggest question is, why didn’t my mother tell me this when I was 15?

afternoon fun II

Afternoon fun

NYC winters

You know it's winter in New York when

-everyone takes up a seat and a half on the subway thanks to puffy knee-length jackets that resemble sleeping bags

-delightful crunch of large granules of salt mixed in with frozen chicken bones and dog shit

-hobos stinking up subway cars

Robotic man-children

Last week I’ve had three vivid dreams. I usually don’t remember dreams.

I dreamt about a black horse on Manhattan Avenue. I saw behind the railing of the subway entrance which was located right across Dunkin Donuts, next to the 99 cent store. There is no subway stop there in real life. I thought the horse was totally harmless, but as I passed it, it started loosening itself from the reigns by kicking everything and everyone around it. I got hit. But since it was a dream, I lived on.

Then I had exactly the same dream the following night. This time, I peered behind the railings to see what the horse was up to. It did not have reigns this time, but it was still kicking and standing on its hind legs the way that horses do. I got a little scared and ran into the 99 cent store; I figured a horse won’t be shopping in the 99 cent store.

Then on my third night, I had a dream I gave birth to a child. Normal, right? I mean, I am pushing 30. Except it wasn’t an infant, I managed to give birth to a toddler. A blond little boy. He seemed pretty cool, independent, good lookin’ little feller. But then one day I noticed that he had a deep crack in his forehead. It was about 5 inches deep and 3 inches across. I peered (I guess I’ve been doing a lot of peering) inside the crack and surprisingly he wasn’t bleeding although I could see the fibers of the flesh. Since I didn’t health insurance, I took him to the nearby neighborhood clinic where the doctor peered inside the crack, stuck her fingers in and pulled down the entire face of the child like the way you would open the front cover of a book. Turns out I gave birth to a robot. The doctor cleaned the inside with computer screen cleaning solution and glued it back onto the head with superglue. I thought to myself, “Crap, I could have done that on my own and saved myself $100 in medical bills.”

I can guess what the dreams mean. I’ve been spending a lot of time with the object of my Hispanic cowboy fetish. Turns out this object has been kicking hind legs and there is a strong possibility that I will be hit. I guess I should keep a mental map of 99 cent stores. And yes, I don’t have health insurance. No clue where the birth to a robot man-child came. Hmm, I guess I do know a lot of man-children.

Companions and fetishists

Yep, I know, it's been a while since I've written anything worth your time. But nothing is going on. Well, things are going on but I don't want the five people who read this blog reading about them.

In case you were wondering, I have no idea what happened to my companionship. I had a long talk about my lack of identification to any of the things that matter to my companion. Since then the companion dropped from the face of the earth. Well, not exactly, but I have not seen the kid since "the talk." So technically speaking, I still may have a companion, but who knows?

I've also started a Mexican cowboy fetish. But the rest is, you know, private.

Since I have absolutely nothing to write about, I will instead post a link to the Chicago Manual of Style Q&A. It's hours of fun reading.