Saturday, February 28, 2009

Saturday in the park, EVERY day's the Fourth of July!

Hey everybody!

Been a spotty poster lately. I'm sorry, darlings. I just feared I might've run out of things to say. Then I walked through Madison Square Park on my way to work this morning, and ping! I thought of something to tell you.

First, let me just say that the squirrels in Madison Square Park are more like little puppies than they are squirrels. You walk by a cluster of them tittering at each other on the park bench, and you make a little clucking sound at them with your tongue, and they run at you in bands of 4 or 5, eager to climb up your legs in the hopes of getting a nut or treat. It's very bizarre. You get the sense you could cradle one in your arms like a kitten if you wanted to. But as my babysitter Isabel learned when she was little, after a lot of lost blood and a rabies shot, squirrels don't really want to be grabbed and hugged.

Anyway, let me tell you about some of the things I saw in the park today, besides the squirrels, that got my rusty brain gears turning:

1. Group of zen-ish asian peoples practicing the Tai Chi in heavy coats and woolen scarves and mittens. You've got to hand it to these folks. I mean, shit. It was cold this morning. And yet, here they are, committed to their quiet, fluid, meditative movements, or whatever the hell it is they do. It was mesmerizing to watch, anyway. Which brings me to

2. Weird Robert Chambers-looking guy in preppy Irish sweater, smoking cig and watching Tai Chi people, as if he were contemplating picking one to kidnap and violate under a tree nearby. Or eat for a snack. He had an intensity in his eyes that would definitely red flag him in a bar as the guy who always carries date rape capsules his pocket.

3. Homeless man wearing coat and pants that were stuffed with newspapers (clever!) to keep him warm. He was slumped like a sleeping fat pidgeon, head tucked into his chest. On his feet were mismatched soft hospital the ones they give you when you sprain your ankle.

4. Skeletal woman jogging in a lipstick-red parka, attached via skinny rhinestone leash to an equally starved-looking poodle, wearing four doggie sneaker/slipper type things the exact same lipstick color as the woman's coat.

Now. This is what struck me. Not that it made me wanna cry or go out and start a revolution or anything, because, please, I've got enough on my plate...but, it made me stop and think for a second, is all.

There seems to be such an ever-growing gap between the haves and the have-nots in this world. I mean, here we have a man who keeps all his earthly belongings folded into filthy shopping bags and stuffed in a cart, who cannot afford shoes on his feet on a cold February morning, who's probably not had a decent meal in weeks. And jogging by in the same park at the very same moment, there's a woman who probably doesn't do much eating either, but for veeeery different reasons, and she's got enough extra money to buy on goddamned shoes for her dog.

What's that about? You don't have to answer. Or answer, if you like.

It just struck me as sort of sad.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Now I have truly seen it all

You guys. You guys. You have to watch this.

Seriously. I thought maybe I was tripping when I first watched, wait, who totally dosed my overpriced Wall St. Pret A Manger salad with brown acid? Seriously.

Fatherhood Examiner: Shocking Video of Two Year Old Smoking Cigarette

Fatherhood Examiner: Shocking Video of Two Year Old Smoking Cigarette

Posted using ShareThis

PS. I have to give credit, once again, to Cary. He posted this on his facebook profile and I shamelessly stole from him. Again. Cary, if you weren't so good, I wouldn't need to bite off you.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Great, now I'm going to get fired for surfing porn sites

My company is hilarious. They block every site known to man where you might engage in 'social networking' (ie fun), like myspace, facebook, linked-in, and twitter, yet I can still access most of your blogs, which are nothing but filth.

This makes me scratch my head in confusion. Or it may just be the bedbugs.

Just kidding. I don't have bedbugs. Yet. But I just read that these little bloodlusting monsters are on the rise in New York. By 34%. How you end up with 34% more bedbugs in a matter of months I am not certain, but I definitely have invested in those plastic covers for the mattresses. But that's actually because Lily still pees the bed sometimes. Sigh.

Anyway. Back to the internazis at my job. Yesterday I was trying to access a link on LOTD, where I could take a quiz to see if I'm an asshole or not (, it was), but it was blocked because it was characterized as 'pornography'. What the hell? Pornography?

Great. That's just great. Now not only am I forced to focus on my actual job because I can't chat with my friends on the facebook, but I'm going to be branded as a pornhound by the management too. Oh, well. I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later.

In other news, I've recently acquired a funky orange beret, which I've been rocking throughout wintry NYC. It's warm, and helps people locate me if I get lost in a crowd. However, one of my co-workers has taken to calling me Rerun, which I most assuredly don't appreciate.

I don't see it. I mean, come on. His beret was red.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

I just wanna clarify...

Red Bull does not, in fact, give you wings.

I am knocking one back presently as I rub my eyes and pinch my own hiney to try and stay awake to make it out for a night with the ladies.

And the only place I feel compelled to fly to is my bathtub.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Anne Coulter is a yeast infection upon society

Hey. Hey you, Ann Coulter. You vile, birdfaced bitch.

You and your fake tits need to recognize. Normally I dismiss your ridiculous, wildly ignorant assaults on educated America with that simple head shake I reserve for the hopeless crazies on the subway, but your recent indictment of single mamas as the cause of 'most of societal problems' is just too much.

Too much, m'lady.

Hey, hey...Ann Coulter, Have you ever been a single mother?


Oh. Well, you ought to try it. It's totally awesome. In fact, it's most women's childhood dream. I know when I was ten years old laying nightly in my pink canopy bed, contemplating what wonders my future held, I prayed relentlessly to my virgin mary nightlight that the good lord would grant me a child with an incapable disappointment of a father who bailed on his basic daily responsibilities, leaving me to do most, if not all of it, by myveryownself.

In fact, I often find myself supressing a gleeful smile that I got my very wish... especially on the nights that my daughter keeps both of us up with a hacking cough, then barfs all over my pajamas and insists upon sleeping curled up like a little turtle with her feet in my face, thereby keeping me from getting back to sleep at 4 in the morning, although I need to be up at 6 to get both of us ready for school and work.

With the exception of the Octomom, who is crazier than a bag of circus clowns, I think very few women embark upon the great journey of motherhood expecting that they will be doing it all on their own. And yet, more and more of us are. And the (growing) number of us out there are busting our asses to do it the best we can, while our babydaddies maintain active social lives, pay child support sporadically, and pop in on weekends for pizza and movies.

Curious, then, Ann Coulter, why you don't perhaps point your sharp little judgement stick at the deadbeat daddies of America, and ask why the hell more and more men are shrinking out of the picture, abandoning their obligations and getting away with it?

Actually, Ann coulter, I've a much better idea.

how's about you just take that there sharp, pointy judgement stick and stick it straight up your ass?

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Overheard in the elevator today

Girl #1 (largely caboosed, wearing ill-advised stretchy pants, extremely Staten Island-accented):
So, are you going out with him tonight?

Girl #2 (sipping coffee, smoothing hair, might be a midget):
Yeah. He got tickets to a show from one of his clients.

Girl #1:
Oh! That's cool. This is the guy with no neck right? But you might like him?

Girl #2:
No, no, no. He totally has a neck.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Friday Feeling

My sister and I used to looooove Fridays, because

1. duh, there was no school on Saturday and we could sleep in, then get up and watch The Snorks in the spare bedroom while scarfing as much Crispix as we wanted without interruption (until our dad came and made us hold the giant lawn bag open while he did away with the raked leaves in our yard. I hated that.)

2. I had a huge canopy bed (and Lisa had a little twin bed...WHO was the favorite?), and on Friday nights, if we promised not to be too loud, we would sleep together in my bed and stay up late laughing and joking, sometimes till one of us peed the bed. Or until we got in a fight and I physically kicked Lisa back to her matchbox of a bedroom. I was a terrible bitch of a sister.

3. My parents would take us out to The Pancake Cottage, where I would get the Marine Boy Special (fried fish sandwich and fries) and we'd play "Playing with the queen of hearts" on the jukebox.

I have Friday Feeling today. But for other reasons. (Wiggles eyebrows).

Do any of you have Friday Feeling? I hope, for your sake, that you do. God knows you deserve it.

Oh! And here's a coffee spitter for your weekend. That's my new term. Coffee Spitter. God, I am really so down with the young people lingo.

Mwahs and Mwahs and Mwahs!

Wednesday, February 4, 2009