Blog

Have you gotten a flu shot? Here in New York City, also know as Infectious Town, the shots are hard to come by as supplies run out. Stern suggested that drug dealers should distribute flu shots because they never fail to meet the demand and they deliver.
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I’m strongly thinking of moving. Sort of. I either want to stay in my cheap apartment until I save enough to buy my own place OR I want to get out. Now. I’m so desperate to find a place that I’m offering a reward for a two bedroom apartment in Lower Manhattan or Brooklyn Heights for less than $2K a month. The reward is 15% of the annual rent. If you live in New York, you will get that joke. Maybe.
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Here’s a fun prank to play on your coworkers. Every so often, create a Word doc with size 72, bold type that says “BEWARE” or “I LIVE IN TORMENT” and send it to the printer, but—and this is the important part—don’t pick it up. Soon, the office will think the printer is HAUNTED! Everyone will be nervous and try to find the prankster to waylay their fears about the true existence of GHOSTS. Secretly, you will be laughing because after everyone leaves early, so as not to be alone with the haunted printer, you will dip their coffee mugs in the toilet.
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SOTD: I blow dry my armpit hair.

My dear friend Susan had her annual Christmas party on Saturday and I volunteered to carve the turkey. In gratitude, the girls later created a Sean sandwich on the dancefloor, using their boobs as the bread.

I’m aware that this is not normal. To appease the karma gods, I went shopping for other people on Sunday, rather than watch football.

Thanks to Lauren for the pics.
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SOTD: Watch this and tell me if it is interesting.

The kids from my writing workshop and I, after hours talking about nouns and such, kicked back at The Firehouse for some drinks and bingo. Prooving that my luck was not all spent during my TV show, I won on the third game. My prize was a Budweiser visor, or a “Bud-visor” as Andy put it.
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Me in a suit is funny, but I can’t explain why.
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SOTD: Greatest Program Ever

I’m having some difficulty returning to the grind. I’ve got some nice shots of a day I spent with my folks that I hope to post tonight.

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. I’m very tired and busy. Ugh.
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I’d like to pry a gun from Toby Keith’s cold, dead fingers.
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SOTD: Big Catfish

I always feel, like, somebody is watching me. On my way to work yesterday, I turned around suddenly to find this guy with a camera tailing me. Weird. Actually, it was Jeff (or Geoff) from “Make My Day” shooting a continuity shot. And I was aware.
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I disliked Coldplay before the guy started nailing Gwenyth Paltrow. Now, I still dislike them.
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I’m catching a bus today for Altoona, PA to devour some turkey with the folks in honor of our victory over the Indians. If you ever are unfortunate enough to be forced to take Greyhound (the train was sold out), remember this advice from Kelly Johnson. Try to get in the middle of the line before boarding. The people in front will fill halves of all the seat pairs and when you get on, you can choose who you sit with, rather than someone choosing you. I used to look for college girls, but now I try to sit with anyone skinny with headphones and a book. I like them quiet on their side of the bench.
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SOTD: According to the Washington Post, this guy publishes government “secrets” on his website.

Erik popped by for some wings at 4th Street and some MNF. The actual outcome of the game was meaningless, but there were huge fantasy implications. The Rednecks squeaked by the Squids on a fluke fumble by Toomer. Yes, fantasy football is for geeks.

My jeans in that picture are brand new. Trish and Marlene helped me do some rare shopping on Saturday. Thanks, girls.
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It is with great sadness that I report that Copito de Nieve, also known as Snowflake, also known as Floquet, has passed away. Ever since I went to Barcelona, I have been obsessed with that albino gorilla. My head hangs very low today. Goodbye, sweet, sweet Floquet.
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Some people from “Make My Day” stopped by this morning to shoot some continuity shots of me sleeping and brushing my teeth. I, of course, failed to get a picture. They will return this afternoon so I’m going to shoot some photos of them to see how they like it. I like it, just fine.
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SOTD: Happy Turkey Day, early

It was a music filled weekend. On Friday, The Coastal Drag blew the doors off CBGB. Imagine three skinny guys looking at the ground for a moment, pausing, and then going fucking nuts. That’s my friends. They now layer guitars as good as anyone else I’ve ever seen live.

After the show, we tossed some beers to celebrate Mary’s 29th. Erika gave me some sugar and Holly gave me some bruises. Thanks to Erica and Mary for the pics.
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For the rest of the weekend, in between hobnobbing with stars, readings, running marathons, finishing crosswords, and wine tastings I watched a lot of TV. Colleen, Walker, and I enjoyed an afternoon of Sirius Radio. I’m definitely getting it for my apartment one of these days.

I also caught up on my jazz piano watching Piano Blues by Clint Eastwood on PBS. In this show, the actor/director explores his love of piano blues by interviewing the greats of the genre. Other than the fact that all piano blues sounds alike after two minutes, somthing else struck me as odd about the show.

In a black and white clip from the Fifties, behind a curl of cigarette smoke, Pinetop Perkins was banging away on a Yamaha baby grand. I thought this was odd to see a Japanese piano in New Orleans so soon after WWII. The Interweb has informed me that Yamaha imported pianos to the U.S. steadily since 1887, so the clip is not an anomaly. When, I saw it, though, I was convinced that everything on my TV was staged by the folks at “Make My Day” to illicit planned responses from me. I was never paranoid until I realized everyone was out to get me.
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Whether I want to or not, I hear the song “Hey Ya” by Outkast three times every day.
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SOTD: From Erika, I am going to hell.

Todd is reproducing. One of my oldest and best friends, Todd Devin is having a baby (via his wife’s, Lisy’s, womb).

Todd and Lisy will be the first from my circle of college friends to procreate. At least the first that we know about. There’s a lost of blanks in my memory.
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I’m still gathering pictures from my big day on Monday, but here’s the complete story for anybody I haven’t told yet. I signed an NDA, but I’m hoping the show will let me try and get an article published about the experience when the show comes out. Good publicity, I would think.
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SOTD: Triumph on NPR

A shot of me and Mel Blount, hero. I’m sending him and his wife the longest thank-you letter. Notice the suds on his face from a hug I gave him after rolling around in some foam with the cheerleaders. Thanks to Alex for the pic. I had class last night, but tonight I’m all free to write up every detail of the day, including the robbery and the model in the bath tub.
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On a really sad and crappy note. Jeff Martini’s and Mike’s apartment burnt down yesterday. Luckily, they were not home and no one was hurt. I’m still getting news and I’ll have details on anything we can do as soon as I find out.
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SOTD: Soccer players are badass, too.

I’m still freaked out. Wound up. I’m working on a pic for today and the big page of pics with all the minutia of my day. Please bear with me. Here’s some shots to tide you over.
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SOTD: Read Tyler’s limerick at Lindsayism.com