To the Centipede I Inadvertently Killed with Drano

I am so sorry.

Fire in the Hole

So, I have to share this.

During the Great Rachel Hyman Scandal of 2007, I had a gentleman visit my blog, undoubtedly from her page, who informed me that he didn't get the "Shawdenfreude" thing and gave a web address that featured the correct spelling and definition.

So, I just visited it and discovered upon it this proverb:

"Pimenta no cu dos outros é refresco.": "Pepper in somebody else's anus is freshness." (ironically used.)

It's Brazilian.

Why have I never been to Brazil?

All's Well That Falwell

Look what just happened.

Please, oh, please tell me he was in there with a male prostitute. Give me another reason to believe in fairies.

MS

Bye Bye Boobie party

Thursday night I attended a Bye Bye Boobie Party.

I am sure you wondering what that is.
I am so glad you asked.
My friend Kerry is having a choice Mastectomy. She has written a small pamphlet about why, the crux being that Kerry is not happy having boobs of any kind. She is going to feel more like herself without them.


I, inevitably, thought about my own breasts and how I have had a strange relationship with mine for years. I felt torn. I could both never see myself doing it and completely being able to rid myself of two objects that sit on my body, doing me very little good, that get in my way.

I have never been to a party that has celebrated such an enormous life change. I commend Kerry and her well thought out life decision.

MS

The Rubin Museum and this guy and his tulips

"Things are not what they seem, nor are they otherwise."

That's a quote written on the Rubin Museum. It is not attributed.


Yesterday, as I was about to enter the Subway, a man stopped me and said excuse me, can I ask you a question. I was in a little bit of a rush, but the man seemed earnest, holding a five-dollar potted plant, in front of my favorite bodega. He asked me the best way that he might ship the plant he was holding to his mother in California. I told him that there is a whole network of people waiting on the other end to bring his mother flowers if he so chose to order and send them to her. He said, oh, that's how it typically works? And I told him yes, I believed so.

I did not, however, wish to crush his dream if he was hellbent on those wilting tulips making their way to his mother, so I told him another route would be to pack that puppy in a box, as tightly as he could, with padding or pillows or the new biodegradable packing foam, and pray for the best. He asked me if that is something I would do, use the biodegradable foam, and I said maybe not on a plant, but sure, it's much better for the environment.

I re-descended the stairs and completed my journey to Manhattan. I got to the Rubin Museum at 8:30, just in time to accidentally catch their Talkingstick program. Talkingstick, apparently takes place every second Friday of the month. Last night one of my favorite comedians, Master Lee, was there and a fabulous woman named Janice Erlbaum, and a man who simply called himself "Mr. Patrick." The major thing I learned about Mr. Patrick is that he took a vow of silence for twenty years and will not live anywhere he can not park in front of. So now he's talking and lives in Harlem. I missed the intro to the talk, but I am assuming the theme had something to do with the Dalai Lama, or meditation, or mindfulness.

I learned this story about the Dalai Lama:

The Dalai Lama was meeting with Chairman Mao and Chairman Mao asked him if Tibet had a flag and the Dalai Lama told him that they did. So Chairman Mao looked at him and said, "Good, I think that it is good that Tibet has a flag, and I think that you should keep it."

So, the Dalai Lama says, if there is ever a problem, if anyone says anything about the Tibetan flag, just tell them I saw Mao, and Mao said it was ok.

Rachel Hyman Is Famous

I am serious she is.

Guys, check it out.

This business is on fark, digg, and slash.com

When I am not sitting in a Dunkin' Donuts using the Internet at 2 am (damn you, Time Warner, damn you), shivering over an iced coffee and under florescent lighting, I would love to put some questions to you about why people act like abusive creeps on the Internet and feel completely justified.


The Internet: Playground for people who never stood up for themselves in Grammar school?

Check out the DMCA debacle and some of the the most bizarre reactions I have ever seen.


Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, Rachel is extremely fuckable.

Boston Over-Easy

Here is what I have to do today:

Before I get on the road to New England today, I have to crack open two large grade A eggs and put them in my car's radiator.

I have been given the specific instruction to cook these eggs in my car.

It is going to help me get where I am going, I have been told by my helpful mechanic, Butch. It is a farmer's cure for a leaky radiator. Why not? If yogurt helps a yeast infection why shouldn't two raw eggs help my car. It's a homeopathic cure.

My car is now officially an ovo-lacto vegetarian.

Isn't this the diet Charles Atlas recommended?

I think my car would rather have a martini.


This is your car.
This is your car on Brunch.

The Underground

Monday night I was called in to "emergency bartend" at The Underground on the Upper West Side. I felt, for a minute, like a medical doctor.

Paging someone to get people drunk, paging someone to get people drunk.


I was quickly shown the place by the extremely disgruntled bar manager, got a mumbled thank you, and started mixing drinks. Carlos the bouncer is an awesome guy. I drank a shit load of grenadine.

Go there for some cheap drinks and some nice regulars if you're ever on the Upper West Side.

After the Long Island Iced Tea I made I might not ever be back there, but you should go!

And they have a late night menu!

How do you know you have lived in New York too long?

You know you have lived in New York too long when you step over a one-legged woman on heroin who has fallen out of her wheelchair at the corner of 14th Street and Second Avenue. You have lived in New York too long if you don't even think about helping because you don't have time to care and that you really can't care anyway, because what are you going to do? You have certainly been here too long if you think, she's fine.

I think in most other places, still, a person collapsed on the street = get help.

Maybe not LA. Maybe not San Francisco.


You have also lived in New York too long if you own a vehicle with a sign in the window that tells all who may be even remotely interested that there is "No Radio - Anymore."