HE'S NOT JESUS CHRIST BUT HE'S GOT THE SAME INITIALS
I've been really busy these past few days, save for the last night where I just sat in a daze in front of the TV for about 4 hours watching episode after episode of season 3 of "The Family Guy" with the
new roommates (we try to take a night off from boozing and slutting it up every once in a while to recharge... i'm joking of course, sort of). It was an exhausting weekend.
Before I go into talking about my weekend... about the photo: "A man was fined nearly 300 dollars for drunk driving a donkey cart in a small South African town and then telling police he was unconcerned 'because the animals knew the way home.'(AFP/POOL/File) " What an ass!
Last week I mentioned something about my parent's house being haunted. I've got no doubt in my mind that it is. After dinner on friday night I went to use the powder room for things that one does there -- and the light turned off when i was in a very compromising position. Thinking that the lights went off in the rest of the house as well, I grabbed a magazine to cover my junk from the world and ran to the door. It was stuck and i couldnt get it open. I panicked and yelled for my mom like the little bitch i am. I got it opened and to my disbelief, the rest of the house had light. Everything had light, but the bathroom i was in. I touched the light switch and it turned right back on. This ghost hasn't been around the whole time, and if it has, it hasn't been really interested in hanging out with us. But lately it's been racing across the room while my mom is on the phone, making my blind dog bark at the air, and has one hell of a sense of humor, shutting my lights off as I sit on the can. My aunt thinks it's a friendly ghost. You can buy shit from my parents' ghostly
garage sale this weekend.
Saturday I went out with my mom, aunt, and my cousins who are about 11 and 16. My little cousins are so fucking awesome... i'm stoked to be related to them. My cousin Renee is a gorgeous little girl who looks like a supermodel mixed with an Olsen Twin. She's 11 and short for her age, but stylish as hell. She was wearing this pin striped pair of pants, black chuck taylors, a layered top, and a blazer. I was like "Whoa, you look like you're in the Strokes!" her older brother, Eric (16), said "yeah, that's the look she's going for."
We went to H&M and then I took Eric to Search & Destroy -- which he totally dug, but didnt get anything, and then we went to Urban Outfitters (dont front like you dont go there too... I know you do).
The Streets' "Fit But You Know It" is totally fucking Blur's "Parklife." How fucking fun!
Anyway, Saturday night I made my way to
Misshapes hear
Audrey DJ amazingly, and to dance with Lizzy,
Niki,
Marc, and
Greg&Raphael. Check out
Me and the Boyfriends.
Andy found himself cornered by me so I could ask him details about the logistics of beheading a person. This sent Greg packing and made me thirsty for more knowledge. The best thing about having a friend like Andy, other then him being awesome, is that he's got this vast knowledge about science and medicine and can explain things to me in the most laymen of terms. He's like the indie rock Stephen Hawkins for retards like myself who like to ... uh... lay-men.
It's weird. A few months ago I would get quickly exhausted from partying. I found myself crawling back home at midnight the latest to find my bed and fall asleep. I guess with the weather being better I'm able to find myself crawling home at after 4am these days... which I did on saturday night with Andy,
Brian, and a few of their friends. We didn't go home as much as we went to the new club on Delancey called The Delancey. We tried to get in cause we heard there was an open bar, and found ourselves out of luck with a doorman wearing ill-advised leather pants. I never saw this dude's face cause he was like, 39 feet tall. So Andy and his lady friends walked me home as the sun was rising.
Sunday night I went to the
Trash party so i could DJ for the party kids. I really love DJing... it's like the most fun a person could have sometimes. I think I got really drunk tho, cause I remember straight lines were a joke, and I remember having a conversation with someone and having to keep my eyes closed (which hopefully made me look a bit pensive) so they wouldn't cross and give me a headache. I've been to Don Hills twice in the past month for the first time in ages, and both times, there were dancing half-naked people. Oy Vey. My parent's at least could breathe a sigh of relief that I wasn't one of those dancing-half-naked people. Not that there's anything wrong with it...
When I was sober during the night I got to see Jess' new band called Americana and was fully impressed. There's something there for sure. A mix of Smiths and a bit of Emo... it was right up my alley. Jess has the looks and charm that a frontman needs and I'm gonna keep a steady eye on these guys.
Monday it started pouring outside. I had invited some friends over a few days earlier promising a BBQ with lots of yummy food, but suddenly it didn't look like it was gonna happen. So me and the girls decided to cut our losses, tell people not to come over when they called to see if it was still on, and stick all the food in our fridge save for a few beers and some food that we were gonna cook up for ourselves. Needless to say, everyone figured that rain couldn't hold 3A down and showed up. We found an indoor grill and cooked up almost all the food we bought. Sorry to anyone i told to not come. We're gonna have a .. um.. rain date. I manned the grill, by the way, and made some killer chicken.
Yesterday morning my brain was fucked. I had spent the past three days partying and was really super tired. I found myself in Long Island interviewing a former member of a boyband who shall remain nameless (there's a clue to his itentity in the title of this blog posting) in his hotel room, and then later in his bus. The Singer (who will be called TS from here on out) and I got off on the wrong foot, arguing about race car drivers. He told me that some drivers could make up to $200 Million A YEAR. Yeah, you read that number right. So my thought was "I don't see why they don't just quit racing after they take home that $200 million dollar paycheck." This statement launched TS into a total ghetto accent that was so over the top, it was a parody of itself:
Me: "I don't see why they don't just quit racing after they take home that $200 million dollar paycheck."
TS: "When it's what you know, you do it."
Me: "Well, fine, but it seems unnecessary to keep it up if you're bringing home a check like that. All you need is one check and you're set for life."
TS: "They're just doing what they know. They can't help it. It's what they know."
Me: "Well, they should get to know something else. Something less life-threatening."
TS: (getting a bit hostile) "What's they supposed to do? Be an accountant?"
Me: (getting annoyed) "No, that's the point! They don't need a job. They can chill out. Hang out with their family. Go traveling."
TS: "Not when racing is all you know. You gonna tell a pilot to get a different job when all they know is flying?"
Me: "If I knew a pilot who brought home a $200 Million paycheck for one year of work, yes, I would tell him that."
TS: "Well, it's all they know."
According to the former member of a popular boyband that is possibly no longer together but features a member who went out with a popstar who is now looking like she had too many days snorting oxycontin, race car drivers aren't very faceted.
HERE ARE THE YOUNG MODERNS
