Meet Me At The OTB

I want to double this Christmas money.

Fast.

My City Was Gone

There’s a NASCAR store in the mall here now.

Jared said “this whole town looks like a hockey game just let out.”

Click Here To See Proof I Exist

Last night at a bar I saw something that really upset me.

It wasn’t seeing the tall guy an ex-girlfriend cheated on me with, or seeing this same guy making out with some dirty (literally) girl like the ship was going down.

It also wasn’t the Three Stooges antics of The Tenessee Titans on Monday Night Football (down by four, with fourteen seconds left in the fourth quarter, and one time out remaining, the Titans attempted a hook-and-ladder play but fumbled, surrendering a final, humiliating touchdown to the Chiefs).

Nope. It was the three people hogging the video game table; snorting lines of cocaine off of it and playing nothing but Galaga, when they could have been playing Ms. Pac Man.

I’m not going to give a lecture on the negative aspects of cocaine.

But it was Monday night.

A Monday night in Greenpoint.

Fuck Galaga too.

Shitty Book

I just finished “Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs” by Chuck Klosterman, a senior writer at Spin magazine, a magazine no one should bother with.

His writing style is called “associative,” which I guess means he compares one thing to something else and makes incongruous references to bands and songs that are meaningful to him. In an essay about the video game “The Sims” he unnecessarily quotes lyrics from the Talking Heads song “Once In A Lifetime.” He reminds me of me when I was younger. He also has a fixation on being the crazy or weird one of his friends. Apparently he dated a girl once, and everyone compared them to Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen (he somehow doesn’t notice they’re actually being compared to characters in a movie).

This is a picture of Chuck Klosterman:



That man has never woken up from a drug binge next to his dead girlfriend in a blood soaked hotel room. He couldn’t play the part convincingly in a movie either.

The Sound Of Being Buzzed Into An Exclusive Party In A Great Apartment In A Cool Part Of Town

Weekend Re-Cap:

I think Jared from Subway is gaining confidence as an actor / spokesperson. He is undoubtedly more assured of himself in front of the camera and now seems less grateful towards Subway than angry at McDonalds.

You don’t see those black twins in Subway commercials anymore. I wonder if they got fat again.

I don’t get to see the Eagles game today. Instead I get Eli Manning’s debut for the Giants. It’s been a pretty sloppy game.

Someone needs to reclaim the word "space" from dirty art-school kids. (I’m a relatively clean art-school kid.) Last night I went to a show at one such "space" in Bushwick. There was a sign on the door that said "No outside alcohol. Throw it out, or drink somewhere else." I do not think it is okay to ban outside alcohol while running an illegal bar. If I’m paying $5 to get in, and $3 for beer in cans, and I can’t bring in my own alcohol, what’s the difference between your alternative "space" and some real club?

Overheard in Williamsburg:

"That place is so Williamsburg."

Three girls leaving "The Read" while a jazz band was playing. I don’t know if they’re right or wrong.

No Camera, No Cry

On Sunday I played four square with some friends at Dupont park. Two kids joined us. One kid said he needed anger-management, but he seemed relatively well behaved. It all reminded me of my teaching days in Austin, except I was cursing a lot because I really wanted these kids to like me.

N/A

Crowds not catching stage-divers is the new slipping on a banana peel.

A Million Whining Princesses And Superheros

Yesterday I was shopping on Broadway, waiting in a large crowd to cross Canal (I can’t think of an intersection I like less), and like ten to twenty dudes carrying suitcases bumrush through us, heading west on Canal. A woman behind me was knocked over and her glasses went flying. It took three of us to pick her up.

Today I hit Central Park and The Natural History Museum with Mark. The museum was littered with candy wrappers.

Good News. In three days it will be November 3rd. Phew.

I'll Charge It To My Amex Blue

More shit to add to that long list of things I don’t like, but everyone I know loves. The Snoop "Drop It Like It’s Hot" song. That limp-dicked hook. That tired Neptunes beat with the tongue clicks. I do a funny impression of the song where I say "Drop It Like It’s A Hot Potato" and do a little hot potato dance. It looks kind of like that dance Ashlee Simpson did on Saturday Night Live.

The Secret Of My Success

The season premiere of "The Swan" is tonight. I guess one person’s nightmare of waking up and not recognizing themselves in the mirror is another person’s dream come true! It just started and the hostess said "ugly ducklings." I have to go.

Language Hang-Ups

I downloaded Garfield: The Movie, but it’s in French. Whenever Garfield addresses John, he says “John John.”

Animals will subject themselves to great humiliation for food. The other night on Leno I saw a sea lion pretend to be a seal. If I ever need anything balanced on a sea lion’s nose, it would only cost me three or four fish.