Blog

A shot of Dan, Kelly, and me at Peter Luger’s steak housem from Saturday. More on that later.

Due to a massive new project at work, I’m going to need to take a hiatus from the site for awhile. I should be able to start doing limited updates in the beginning of May. Enjoy your Spring!

Editor’s note: This was all an April Fool’s joke.

Just one of the many hot chicks at my birthday party that slipped their number in my pocket. OK, to be truthful, she was the only one, but still it's pretty cool.

Here are all the photos.

On this beautiful Spring day, I turned 29 years old. I wish I had some sort of deep birthday musings to convey, but I don't. I woke up and the only birthday wish I had was for a ham and cheese croissant. Luckily, I have progressed in life to the point where I am able to satisfy such desires.

Now that the croissant is safely in my belly, I don't have a lot to think about. Hope your day is well. If you aren't busy, stop by the 4th Street Bar tonight around 8:30 for some b-day festivities and pool.

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Today's photos are from the party last night at Kate's. They were taken after midnight, so at the point I was already 29. I certainly don't look any wiser.

In order to help alleviate the massive expense my company incurs by being trapped is a lease for a space three times as a large as what we need, we have begun to rent out other parts of the building to film production companies for use as sets. “Law and Order: CI” redcorated our entire first floor as an underground casino and I was able to sneak on the set and snap this picture. It was slightly sad to sit at a black jack table and not be allowed to play. The also created an office set, but the photos of that look just like…well, an office. Not too interesting.

I didn’t have usable picture today (too much nudity) so I had to pull one from the Associated Press. The U.S. is now using dolphins to locate mines in the harbors of Iraq, something which I have no problems with. This caused me to ponder the right and wrong of it. I eat meat and I consciously condone the killing of animals for appropriate reasons, but I don’t give it much thought very often. My train of thought led to thinking about all the animals I ever killed personally. Growing up in the country with a BB gun, I had ample opportunity to snipe a few critters. Here’s a list complete with explanations. Before you have me committed, try and realize that it’s not always easy to come up with things to write about.

• insects – Yeah, this is a given, but once during a boardgame, I asked a friend to squash a mosquito that had alit on a gamepiece. A very rich, hot, spoiled vegetarian girl who was also at the table screeched at us not to because that mosquito was part of the food chain; we owed our very existence to it. I promptly caught it between my fingers and tossed it into my mouth and swallowed. “Now it still is,” I told her as her jaw dropped. The hippy girls at school didn’t like me.
• frogs, toads, & salamanders – By the dozens, every way possible. I grew up next to pond. Frogs float with just their eyes above the surface,
  requiring a very skilled shot. Apparently, killing animals is acceptible if it is difficult.

• robin – Brian Mattas and I shot one in second grade with our BB guns. We actually felt so guilty that we floated it out onto the pond—viking style— on a board covered with flaming newspaper. At the age of eight, I had a gun and access to matches.
• two cats – One with the car, felt awful. The other was the neighbors. They were on vacation, unknown to me, and I poked my head in their stupidly unlocked door to see if anyone wanted to “play”; I was six. Their cat squirmed out and made a bee-line for the nearest moving bumper. I had to tell them when they got home that their cat was dead.
• mouse – Just a month ago. I found it on the sticky paper and put it in a bucket of water to humanely dispose of it. It wriggled for a thirty seconds or so and then with one tiny bubble, it was gone. This actually shook me up for the better part of the day.
• many snakes – Including a copperhead that tried to eat a minnow on the end of my fishing line.
• many fish – I ate these.
• several bats – In college I lived in a house that was plagued with bats and for years I had to run to my elderly uncle for protection every time one swooped through. The damn things scared the shit out of me, until one day after a fight with my girlfriend, I dispatched one with a broomstick like it was my job. Nothing like a little relationship frustration to help you overcome your fears. Totally healthy.
• horseshoe crabs – While I was a assistant clam biologist in Hyannis, I slaughtered hundreds of horseshoe crabs because my boss told me that they ate baby clams. It wasn’t until the end of the summer that he told me that it is illegal to kill horseshoe crabs.

CONCLUSION: If you have read this far, god help you. I can’t really make any coherent conclusion from the above reminiscent homicidal babbling. Maybe I’ll buy a point and include these stories in an essay that actually has structure. I just felt like typing.

One of the joys of living alone in a small apartment is that no matter what you are doing, you can leave the bathroom door open and watch TV.

Check out my new haircut. Not sure how I feel about it. I sort of miss the hair.

Big thanks to my brother Dan for sending me an Atari 2600 for my birthday. I expect it will attract lots of guys with beer to my place and drive women away. Unless they are really cool women.

WEEKEND RECAP: On Friday and Saturday the evenings, I talked with friends at two East Village bars very close to my home. During the days I enjoyed the sun in Tompkins Square Park. Today’s photo was ably snapped by Colleen while she, Walker, Lauren and I watched the Oscars. I mostly did the puzzle while it was on, but I did sit up and take notice for certain pairs of things. The rest of the thoughts today are based on our reaction to the show.

The Oscars are the most overblown self-righteous, self-congratulatory, and self-centered piece of shit of which we watch every minute. If they could make it worse, we would probably tape it and rewatch immediately afterward.

“Best Supporting Actress is the only way fat girls can win awards,” commented someone in the room.

Every time “Chicago” would win, they would replay that g**d*** “All that Jazz” song and it became unbearable almost immediately. Musicals would be wonderful if not for all the f***ing singing.

Like a newborn puppy, Renee Zellweger cannot open her eyes. And she’s beat.

Eminem won the award for coolest guy by not performing his nominated song, not even showing up, and then winning. I could have been second coolest by not watching.

Jennifer Connolly is the most beautiful woman in Hollywood today.

Things that sucked: The condescending way that Susan Sarandon says anything, actors who refer to themselves as “artists”, Barbara Streisand, and industry jokes.

And finally, not to toot my own horn which is something I’m loathe to do, but we each made picks before the show started and the winner was me. I correctly predicted best director, actor, and actress—all pulled from my ass because I don’t watch films until they make it to HBO. My prize was a hearty handshake and a pat on the butt by the door as I departed.

Today’s shot is of what is, as far as I know, the largest puddle in Manhattan. Everytime it rains, the corner of First Ave. and Second Street turns into Lake Erie. I’ve always wanted a home near
a stream or the ocean and now I have one. Prettier than the East River.
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I’ve been in a very good mood lately and I’m afraid that the quality of the site suffers as a result. Grouchy people are inherently funnier, so on the walk to work, despite pleasant weather and friendly faces, I worked myself into a frenzy over something. I now hate dogs. I know that dogs are like babies and Radiohead in that everyone likes them—at least a little bit—but I’m standing by my new position; dogs are bad.

During an average walk across town, I pass 10-20 people walking their dog, willingly picking up its shit; an act which strongly blurs who is the bitch in the relationship. And then that’s the real problem, these humiliated personal feces sweepers occasionally neglect the duties of cleaning up after their pet. In a city of eight million, if every pet owner only lapses in the doo-doo gathering once a month, it still results in streets that are littered with dog shit. It’s worse in the snow, because it collects and then during the thaw, the accumulated mess is slowly revealed. Ugh. I think we should ban the little shit-makers. Babies too, for that matter.

You know, I also hate graffiti. Can we pass a law where if you are caught not picking up after your dog, you are required to clean graffiti for a day? And if you get caught spray painting a wall, well guess what, Picasso, you are picking up dog shit this Saturday. I should be mayor. Oh yeah, and Bush sucks.

I used to drive my older uncle home from his job at the university and although he loved my aunt very much, he seldom failed to point out a nice
set of legs on a wandering co-ed. I don’t mean to objectify, but I just really like nice sticks. This pair—emerging from a bright red wool coat—marked the beginning of Spring.
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Hey, we are at war. If someone knows conclusively how I should feel about that please email me. Generally, I’m not feeling so good.

I have experienced an unusally large amount of karaoke lately. Here, Erik and I belt out “Viva Las Vegas” at
Kerstin’s birthday
party last Friday. I ended up at the same place on Monday to wail “Mack the Knife”. Good times.
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Rented “Road to Perdition” last night. After watching it, I felt like I had just seen a very expensive facsimile of a good movie. It has all the right ingredients for a fatalistic piece about the inevitably of fate and the paths of bad men: well-acted parts, dramatic full orchestra original score, high contrast well-composed shots, and long build ups punctuated with graphic cinematic violence. Something just failed to click, though, due to a somewhat contrived plot where important details seemed to be to overtly presented to the viewer. The ending was apparent from the beginning and the hours it took to get there just weren’t worth it.