The King of Pop is dead. That's right, Michael Jackson has passed on and we are left with a weekend of every club/bar in the city playing Jackson hits. While I'm not against this posthumous display of reverence for one of music's greatest artists, I'm thinking more needs to be done.
I suggested to co-workers this morning that I should star in a one man, off-Broadway production of the life of Michael Jackson. One response was,
"I thought he was anorexic."
followed by,
"I needs to be way off Broadway."
When asked how he-she felt, Person Gaga said, "I heard he went out with a smile on his mouth and a hand on his HUH!"
ck
Friday, June 26, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
06-25/Remember Two Things
http://www.hulu.com/watch/56632/saturday-night-live-digital-short-im-on-a-boat
http://www.chucksconnection.com/weekend/weekend04.jpg *
*credit paps with the rebirth. days and days worth of entertainment.
ck
http://www.chucksconnection.com/weekend/weekend04.jpg *
*credit paps with the rebirth. days and days worth of entertainment.
ck
Monday, June 22, 2009
06-22/Driving Ms. Daisy
I was prepared to go a different direction with this, but upon coming up with this title I had to give my man Morgan Freeman props, and leave a space here for your favorite line from Shawshank.
This morning started off well, especially since I was excited to be working like a normal person. Still far from normal myself, I ventured out for my nice ride to work.
The radio has been particularly bad lately. Since "Big Whiskey" I've lost some of my tolerance for pop hits, so driving sans satellite radio has left me desiring more. The drive began as usual, luckily not hitting any traffic for the final round of the U.S. Open. The drunk golf spectators are just like drunk car racing fans, however Heineken replaces Miwaukees Best and polo shirts replace T-Shirts that read " My other Car is my Sister."
On pace for an early arrival, my worst fears came to life one exit before I'm supposed to leave the highway. Over a small hill a sea of red brake lights packed the road. A seasoned driver with plenty of miles under (and over) my belt, I knew this wasn't normal volume because it was stationary. Quick thinking, I started my descent one exit early, by a hard right hand turn over three lanes and off the highway - the service road my salvation.
The service road ran smoothly, and gave myself congratulations as if I invented the wheel, when in reality I made a simple decision. Then I hit another wall of red. Behind the scenes, a nasty accident had shut down the highway in Happauge, Smithtown area, and I was stuck in the middle of it.
They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die. When I saw the red for the second time a few things flashed before me.
1.) Did I really need to jump back and forth between morning episodes of "Saved by the Bell" and VH1? OK, we got it Chris, you like "The Man Who Can't Be Moved." Check the traffic, dummy.
2.) Finishing last night's Jaeger Schnitzel was not the greatest idea.
3.) I'm stuck with the radio.
I picked 95.5 PLJ first, but Scott and Todd have the entertainment value of me shopping at EXPRESS for Men. They come back from commercial with the harmony of Shop Boyz "Party like a Rockstar." Now if they actually played the song on that station all hell would break loose, and a fleet of Dodge Caravans would take over the station parking lot to complain.
I wonder if the harmony of that song without the words, and Scott talking about how he went to Morton's last night for dinner, get all these Soccer Moms all excited. Do they hear the beat and feel young again, like the ferry boat scene of "Weekend at Bernie's?" Do they see a nice young man in shorts and white long sleeve, no collar shirt, wearing a sport jacket and say, " I'd really like make out with that guy?"
I can't say much, because the music that supposed to appeal to my demographic is led by "Person" Gaga, making noises in his/her songs as if they are on a football field. "Love Games" is full of "huttt, haaa - hutt huttt, haaa." It sounds like me in the morning after a long night of no self control.
I settled on Boomer and Carton, sports talk, because Carton was calling Brian Cashman (GM of the Yankees) a woman. That's entertainment. Obviously I made it in time, and I am able to get something from the gross coffee truck.
"My friend Andy always said Bacon Egg and Cheese from a Roach Coach would not sit well. I found out exactly what he meant that morning."
ck
This morning started off well, especially since I was excited to be working like a normal person. Still far from normal myself, I ventured out for my nice ride to work.
The radio has been particularly bad lately. Since "Big Whiskey" I've lost some of my tolerance for pop hits, so driving sans satellite radio has left me desiring more. The drive began as usual, luckily not hitting any traffic for the final round of the U.S. Open. The drunk golf spectators are just like drunk car racing fans, however Heineken replaces Miwaukees Best and polo shirts replace T-Shirts that read " My other Car is my Sister."
On pace for an early arrival, my worst fears came to life one exit before I'm supposed to leave the highway. Over a small hill a sea of red brake lights packed the road. A seasoned driver with plenty of miles under (and over) my belt, I knew this wasn't normal volume because it was stationary. Quick thinking, I started my descent one exit early, by a hard right hand turn over three lanes and off the highway - the service road my salvation.
The service road ran smoothly, and gave myself congratulations as if I invented the wheel, when in reality I made a simple decision. Then I hit another wall of red. Behind the scenes, a nasty accident had shut down the highway in Happauge, Smithtown area, and I was stuck in the middle of it.
They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die. When I saw the red for the second time a few things flashed before me.
1.) Did I really need to jump back and forth between morning episodes of "Saved by the Bell" and VH1? OK, we got it Chris, you like "The Man Who Can't Be Moved." Check the traffic, dummy.
2.) Finishing last night's Jaeger Schnitzel was not the greatest idea.
3.) I'm stuck with the radio.
I picked 95.5 PLJ first, but Scott and Todd have the entertainment value of me shopping at EXPRESS for Men. They come back from commercial with the harmony of Shop Boyz "Party like a Rockstar." Now if they actually played the song on that station all hell would break loose, and a fleet of Dodge Caravans would take over the station parking lot to complain.
I wonder if the harmony of that song without the words, and Scott talking about how he went to Morton's last night for dinner, get all these Soccer Moms all excited. Do they hear the beat and feel young again, like the ferry boat scene of "Weekend at Bernie's?" Do they see a nice young man in shorts and white long sleeve, no collar shirt, wearing a sport jacket and say, " I'd really like make out with that guy?"
I can't say much, because the music that supposed to appeal to my demographic is led by "Person" Gaga, making noises in his/her songs as if they are on a football field. "Love Games" is full of "huttt, haaa - hutt huttt, haaa." It sounds like me in the morning after a long night of no self control.
I settled on Boomer and Carton, sports talk, because Carton was calling Brian Cashman (GM of the Yankees) a woman. That's entertainment. Obviously I made it in time, and I am able to get something from the gross coffee truck.
"My friend Andy always said Bacon Egg and Cheese from a Roach Coach would not sit well. I found out exactly what he meant that morning."
ck
Thursday, June 18, 2009
06-18/A Day at the Races, Pt.3
Blue Goose was puttering along the outside, his hard plastic wheels crinkling along the gravel. The footsteps behind us were getting quicker, the pace becoming faster. The group was gaining on me, and the sweat was dripping more than usual.
I pulled him down the homestretch, my pace in danger of almost being called a jog. The finish line was in site.
Then it pulled away.
"Fabe!!!" I yelled, as the car pulled away from me like a joke in a movie.
The red brake lights illuminated, personified as a human face that just raised it's eyebrows, exclaiming, "OH!"
We loaded the Pilot up, storing the excess cargo in any hold that would allow it. It must of been tight because there was no room for Paps' shirt. We bolted out of there with a half of a tank of gas, and dreams. One of them being said shirt would magically reappear.
The beats in the car were pumping, from Lady Gaga to Sean Paul, and I think even Shaggy. The car was like a party bus, complete with male stripper. It reminded me of the scene in Zoolander, when all the models were driving in the car to get gas, then getting rambuncious and spraying it all over each other.
That came to a screeching halt as we pulled onto Bell Blvd. Blanche and her young date (16 November 1985 (Season 1, Episode 9) waved to us and invited us to dinner as we pulled into the parking spot. A quick decision resulted with us leaving Bell Blvd, and proceeding to the Astoria Beergarden.
Landing a great spot in the "Gyro" of Queens, we paraded into the Garden. Like a movie with bad editing showing a magic trick, Paps turned around. Then a second later was facing us with a pitcher of beer.
I tried the same trick, but I was left with no wallet and my fly was open. I was about to be redeemed.
"Hey Chris!"
I looked but didn't see anyone. Maybe a vampire was calling me and I was looking into a mirror.
"Chris!"
I looked over and found that it was a girl calling me. Very drunk and now wondering what I'm going to do, I said....(drumroll)
"Hi."
Then came the line.
"You're Paps' friend, aren't you?"
Then Alfalfa walked by with a slide whistle. http://blog.bernardgomez.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/03/alfalfa.jpeg
And just like that Paps appeared, just like Tony Wonder. I, though, decided to continue with my own illusion called, 'Going down in flames for over 4 hours,' and drank some more. We settled in to a table, saw a few more friends and talked about the good times.
The camera pulled back from the table and rose higher and higher, filming us from the tops of the trees. I put my arm around Maks, put his hat on my head, Fabe kissed Steph, and Paps was barely in the frame talking closely to a lovely girl in the corner.
One of us pointed to him, and I high fived Fabe. Then we all toasted to a wonderful summer.
Then the camera hit a tree branch and it hit me in the head.
ck
I pulled him down the homestretch, my pace in danger of almost being called a jog. The finish line was in site.
Then it pulled away.
"Fabe!!!" I yelled, as the car pulled away from me like a joke in a movie.
The red brake lights illuminated, personified as a human face that just raised it's eyebrows, exclaiming, "OH!"
We loaded the Pilot up, storing the excess cargo in any hold that would allow it. It must of been tight because there was no room for Paps' shirt. We bolted out of there with a half of a tank of gas, and dreams. One of them being said shirt would magically reappear.
The beats in the car were pumping, from Lady Gaga to Sean Paul, and I think even Shaggy. The car was like a party bus, complete with male stripper. It reminded me of the scene in Zoolander, when all the models were driving in the car to get gas, then getting rambuncious and spraying it all over each other.
That came to a screeching halt as we pulled onto Bell Blvd. Blanche and her young date (16 November 1985 (Season 1, Episode 9) waved to us and invited us to dinner as we pulled into the parking spot. A quick decision resulted with us leaving Bell Blvd, and proceeding to the Astoria Beergarden.
Landing a great spot in the "Gyro" of Queens, we paraded into the Garden. Like a movie with bad editing showing a magic trick, Paps turned around. Then a second later was facing us with a pitcher of beer.
I tried the same trick, but I was left with no wallet and my fly was open. I was about to be redeemed.
"Hey Chris!"
I looked but didn't see anyone. Maybe a vampire was calling me and I was looking into a mirror.
"Chris!"
I looked over and found that it was a girl calling me. Very drunk and now wondering what I'm going to do, I said....(drumroll)
"Hi."
Then came the line.
"You're Paps' friend, aren't you?"
Then Alfalfa walked by with a slide whistle. http://blog.bernardgomez.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/03/alfalfa.jpeg
And just like that Paps appeared, just like Tony Wonder. I, though, decided to continue with my own illusion called, 'Going down in flames for over 4 hours,' and drank some more. We settled in to a table, saw a few more friends and talked about the good times.
The camera pulled back from the table and rose higher and higher, filming us from the tops of the trees. I put my arm around Maks, put his hat on my head, Fabe kissed Steph, and Paps was barely in the frame talking closely to a lovely girl in the corner.
One of us pointed to him, and I high fived Fabe. Then we all toasted to a wonderful summer.
Then the camera hit a tree branch and it hit me in the head.
ck
Monday, June 15, 2009
06-15/A Day at the Races, Pt. 2
Walking towards the Backyard area, a Nautica spokesman apparently knew who I was, since he was yelling for my attention. Expecting to be solicited with perfume or sunglasses, it turned out to be Paps and 3 good looking girls. Shocking.
Walking together, as if we had just gotten off an international flight and met up at the arrivals hall, Fabe started to tell the story of how we almost didn't get through with the alcohol. After I got yelled at for trying to tell the story, Paps slipped his arm back into Fabe's and they walked, hearing the tales of his bravery.
We found a nice spot around a tented pole, with 4 flat screen TV's hanging from it. After some rearranging of benches, we had our own little world, complete with carrot sticks and salsa. Now it was time to bet.
I bet that I would be doing something stupid at some point, and that I would drink alot.
Then I went to make some bets on the races. I came up empty in all of them by the way, except - of course - for the drinking and doing something stupid. I did have my third horse show up in 4th place, almost hitting the trifecta.
Maks was dressed like he was lost in the 50's, still with a solid appearance in the crew. He gave me his hat. Solid. He wore dress socks with shorts - one sock stretched higher than the other.
The Goose went through like water, ironically in a Poland Spring bottle.
Remembering earlier about how the guy said made me feel like they were protecting people from drinking too much, they weren't protecting people's wallets. A 22 ounce Coors will cost you 7 on this day, and you can infer the rest after this conversation.....
Me : " Hi, what's the most you can get at one time?"
Lady : " As many as you want. " (said somewhat with a "duh" )
Me : " I'll take 4. "
The band was the highlight of the afternoon. I recall the band to be the highlight of last year too, as well as one of the few things that I remember happening at all.
The drummer to this year's band was "Steve," and I searched for information on the band's name but could not find it. After they started playing Zeppelin, I went to the stage and rocked out like I was in the 70's. More importantly, I rocked out pretending it was really Zep, and not a manager at Rite Aid, with his brother in law playing the keyboard. (likely)
Duschechill moment of the Year :
I was able to fist pound the lead guitar after "Over the Hills and Far Away," and yelled "Yeah, Steve!!" numerous times.
Some guy had to tell me twice that he saw them at the Garden in '73 and I told him that I'll never be able to do that in my life.
***I made sure that the lead saw me checking out his guitars. I tried to make facial expressions that would translate to, " I believe your guitars are acceptable, and I'm someone who would be able to say such a thing."
This was a steady nod, followed by a series a short quick ones with my lips turned in and eyes raised.
I would then hope to get an invite to the stage, but didn't have any idea what I would do from there. I don't think that "Grey Street" was in their set-list. 'Hey guys, this is Chris....'
Maks and I ended up walking looking for Paps and the girls. Looking back on the day I wish I would have said, "Spalding, get your foot off the boat," to him at least once.
Man, did he look good. And I'll tell you why it matters....
in Part III.
ck
Walking together, as if we had just gotten off an international flight and met up at the arrivals hall, Fabe started to tell the story of how we almost didn't get through with the alcohol. After I got yelled at for trying to tell the story, Paps slipped his arm back into Fabe's and they walked, hearing the tales of his bravery.
We found a nice spot around a tented pole, with 4 flat screen TV's hanging from it. After some rearranging of benches, we had our own little world, complete with carrot sticks and salsa. Now it was time to bet.
I bet that I would be doing something stupid at some point, and that I would drink alot.
Then I went to make some bets on the races. I came up empty in all of them by the way, except - of course - for the drinking and doing something stupid. I did have my third horse show up in 4th place, almost hitting the trifecta.
Maks was dressed like he was lost in the 50's, still with a solid appearance in the crew. He gave me his hat. Solid. He wore dress socks with shorts - one sock stretched higher than the other.
The Goose went through like water, ironically in a Poland Spring bottle.
Remembering earlier about how the guy said made me feel like they were protecting people from drinking too much, they weren't protecting people's wallets. A 22 ounce Coors will cost you 7 on this day, and you can infer the rest after this conversation.....
Me : " Hi, what's the most you can get at one time?"
Lady : " As many as you want. " (said somewhat with a "duh" )
Me : " I'll take 4. "
The band was the highlight of the afternoon. I recall the band to be the highlight of last year too, as well as one of the few things that I remember happening at all.
The drummer to this year's band was "Steve," and I searched for information on the band's name but could not find it. After they started playing Zeppelin, I went to the stage and rocked out like I was in the 70's. More importantly, I rocked out pretending it was really Zep, and not a manager at Rite Aid, with his brother in law playing the keyboard. (likely)
Duschechill moment of the Year :
I was able to fist pound the lead guitar after "Over the Hills and Far Away," and yelled "Yeah, Steve!!" numerous times.
Some guy had to tell me twice that he saw them at the Garden in '73 and I told him that I'll never be able to do that in my life.
***I made sure that the lead saw me checking out his guitars. I tried to make facial expressions that would translate to, " I believe your guitars are acceptable, and I'm someone who would be able to say such a thing."
This was a steady nod, followed by a series a short quick ones with my lips turned in and eyes raised.
I would then hope to get an invite to the stage, but didn't have any idea what I would do from there. I don't think that "Grey Street" was in their set-list. 'Hey guys, this is Chris....'
Maks and I ended up walking looking for Paps and the girls. Looking back on the day I wish I would have said, "Spalding, get your foot off the boat," to him at least once.
Man, did he look good. And I'll tell you why it matters....
in Part III.
ck
Thursday, June 11, 2009
06-11/A Day at the Races, Pt. 1
Blue Goose looked up at me with those big black wheels and said,
"Daddy, where are we going?"
I said, "Where there are lots of strange people, booze, and horses."
"Your bedroom at night-night time?"
"Uh, no......no, well yes, but no. We're going to Belmont."
Arrival at Casa Fabian was 15 minutes late, as 7-11 wouldn't take my Citibank card. I walked out of the store to the left, looking for the bank that I knew was around there somewhere. Passing by the Chinese restaurant and the nail salon, I realized it was not here any longer. Willing to give the 7-11 Citibank ATM another shot, I headed back and saw the bank on the other side of 7-11. The extra 30 feet of walking was sure to help me burn the much needed 30 calories.
I got the cash, got the ice, and headed over to Fabe's.
I saw Steph's ring, and gave a scientific gaze at it, pretending to rate the craftsmanship. I ended it with a satisfactory nod, sucking in my cheeks, and a, " It came out perfect," as if I had been monitoring the work throughout all the steps.
"Big Whiskey and the Gru Grux King," brought us to Belmont; a short 8 minute ride. Flashing back to the Target "wheeled cooler testing area," I remember I had not tested him on gravel. I became worried.
Packed to the gills, BG rolled nicely over the yellow school bus that was going to bring us to the entrance. BG got his own seat, and I told the blue haired old man and wife to take a hike when they wanted to sit there.
In reality I sat next to Kopec and mumbled about my notebook with my writing in it. An uninterested Kopec got his lucky break from my blabbing as a relic from the "Motorhead" era got on the bus wearing a shirt that says "Make 7" on the front, and (assuming) "Up Yours" on the back. I wondered if he would point over his shoulder using his thumb in a fist with a mad face to get his point across - Probably to metrosexuals in long sleeve white linen shirts wearing boat shoes and Prada glasses.
As we arrived at the gates of Belmont, which reminds me of Shawshank, I went with Blue Goose to the separate gate for his "cooler" strip search. I think he was scared at first, as he wobbled a little when the first guard asked if we had any alcohol.
With the coolness of a William Zabka ( http://www.sweeptheleg.com/ ) character, I strutted in to the pen saying, " No, sir."
The crew that would be doing the strip search asked again if we had any alcohol. Doing my best Ryan Atwood impression from "the O.C." I stared blankly, looked sleepy, and dryly said, "No." I looked for Luke to punch out on the beach, but he wasn't there. I looked over at the rest of our crew lined up on the other side of the fence, hoping Peter Gallagher's soft eyes would be at the end cheering me on.
http://z.about.com/d/tvdramas/1/0/R/8/petergall.jpg
One more time they asked if there was any alcohol. I said again, "No." A second later they opened up the Poland Spring 1.5 Liter, and said "Alcohol," and put it aside. The same with the second one.
I looked through the iron fence and saw Fabe, Steph and Kopec, sullenly looking on. I wanted to wish them well and say, " Tell them my story." Then Fabe yelled, "Tell them we'll take it back to the car."
"I'll take them back to the car. After all it is Grey Goose."
The attendant said that would be the best idea, and agreed that the Grey Goose should be "enjoyed at a baseball game" or something. He apologetically added that there was "going to be alot of people," insinuating that there would be a problem with drinking and alot of people. Remember that for later, folks.
Fabe came back out the gate, and BG rolled along with us. Able to fly a plane, and direct tons and tons of metal around one of the world's busiest airport apparently means that I can barely dress myself. I could see a hard hat and a tie on Fabian patrolling a jobsite as he said, " They didn't check my bag going through." A light clicked.
I had already reserved myself to listening to "Birthday Sex" 45 times on 92.3 and drinking this Goose in the parking lot, when hope was regained. We hid behind a trailer and made the switch, and went back to the gate to be searched.
Much more ballsy with no chance of being caught, I returned to the search pen as if I was a regular at a bar. Just another asshole in plaid shorts, I lifted BG up onto the table for a different attendant to do the search. The top was twisted on one of the club sodas, but not fully removed, however the attendant yelled (as if it was coming out of a bullhorn), "This can NOT be opened." I protested a bit showing it was not fully off, so consequently she completed the twist of the cap and put her lovely nose to the bottle. Begrudgingly I accepted the passing the grade, only because I was happy she was proved wrong.
On the non-cooler line, there was a happening - Fabe now was going to have his backpack searched. He quickly said he was waiting for a friend and retreated from the guard. Now removing the bottles and putting them in a plastic bag, he returned to let another guard check the backpack and held the bag at his side. After they pushed aside the umbrella in the backpack, and saw it was contraband free, Fabe walked in hiding the plastic bag at his side. Success.
Just then, this guy arrived off the escalator. http://www.divingtradeint.com/llr%20guy%20sailing.jpg
ck
"Daddy, where are we going?"
I said, "Where there are lots of strange people, booze, and horses."
"Your bedroom at night-night time?"
"Uh, no......no, well yes, but no. We're going to Belmont."
Arrival at Casa Fabian was 15 minutes late, as 7-11 wouldn't take my Citibank card. I walked out of the store to the left, looking for the bank that I knew was around there somewhere. Passing by the Chinese restaurant and the nail salon, I realized it was not here any longer. Willing to give the 7-11 Citibank ATM another shot, I headed back and saw the bank on the other side of 7-11. The extra 30 feet of walking was sure to help me burn the much needed 30 calories.
I got the cash, got the ice, and headed over to Fabe's.
I saw Steph's ring, and gave a scientific gaze at it, pretending to rate the craftsmanship. I ended it with a satisfactory nod, sucking in my cheeks, and a, " It came out perfect," as if I had been monitoring the work throughout all the steps.
"Big Whiskey and the Gru Grux King," brought us to Belmont; a short 8 minute ride. Flashing back to the Target "wheeled cooler testing area," I remember I had not tested him on gravel. I became worried.
Packed to the gills, BG rolled nicely over the yellow school bus that was going to bring us to the entrance. BG got his own seat, and I told the blue haired old man and wife to take a hike when they wanted to sit there.
In reality I sat next to Kopec and mumbled about my notebook with my writing in it. An uninterested Kopec got his lucky break from my blabbing as a relic from the "Motorhead" era got on the bus wearing a shirt that says "Make 7" on the front, and (assuming) "Up Yours" on the back. I wondered if he would point over his shoulder using his thumb in a fist with a mad face to get his point across - Probably to metrosexuals in long sleeve white linen shirts wearing boat shoes and Prada glasses.
As we arrived at the gates of Belmont, which reminds me of Shawshank, I went with Blue Goose to the separate gate for his "cooler" strip search. I think he was scared at first, as he wobbled a little when the first guard asked if we had any alcohol.
With the coolness of a William Zabka ( http://www.sweeptheleg.com/ ) character, I strutted in to the pen saying, " No, sir."
The crew that would be doing the strip search asked again if we had any alcohol. Doing my best Ryan Atwood impression from "the O.C." I stared blankly, looked sleepy, and dryly said, "No." I looked for Luke to punch out on the beach, but he wasn't there. I looked over at the rest of our crew lined up on the other side of the fence, hoping Peter Gallagher's soft eyes would be at the end cheering me on.
http://z.about.com/d/tvdramas/1/0/R/8/petergall.jpg
One more time they asked if there was any alcohol. I said again, "No." A second later they opened up the Poland Spring 1.5 Liter, and said "Alcohol," and put it aside. The same with the second one.
I looked through the iron fence and saw Fabe, Steph and Kopec, sullenly looking on. I wanted to wish them well and say, " Tell them my story." Then Fabe yelled, "Tell them we'll take it back to the car."
"I'll take them back to the car. After all it is Grey Goose."
The attendant said that would be the best idea, and agreed that the Grey Goose should be "enjoyed at a baseball game" or something. He apologetically added that there was "going to be alot of people," insinuating that there would be a problem with drinking and alot of people. Remember that for later, folks.
Fabe came back out the gate, and BG rolled along with us. Able to fly a plane, and direct tons and tons of metal around one of the world's busiest airport apparently means that I can barely dress myself. I could see a hard hat and a tie on Fabian patrolling a jobsite as he said, " They didn't check my bag going through." A light clicked.
I had already reserved myself to listening to "Birthday Sex" 45 times on 92.3 and drinking this Goose in the parking lot, when hope was regained. We hid behind a trailer and made the switch, and went back to the gate to be searched.
Much more ballsy with no chance of being caught, I returned to the search pen as if I was a regular at a bar. Just another asshole in plaid shorts, I lifted BG up onto the table for a different attendant to do the search. The top was twisted on one of the club sodas, but not fully removed, however the attendant yelled (as if it was coming out of a bullhorn), "This can NOT be opened." I protested a bit showing it was not fully off, so consequently she completed the twist of the cap and put her lovely nose to the bottle. Begrudgingly I accepted the passing the grade, only because I was happy she was proved wrong.
On the non-cooler line, there was a happening - Fabe now was going to have his backpack searched. He quickly said he was waiting for a friend and retreated from the guard. Now removing the bottles and putting them in a plastic bag, he returned to let another guard check the backpack and held the bag at his side. After they pushed aside the umbrella in the backpack, and saw it was contraband free, Fabe walked in hiding the plastic bag at his side. Success.
Just then, this guy arrived off the escalator. http://www.divingtradeint.com/llr%20guy%20sailing.jpg
ck
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
06-05/Gentlemen, Start Your Horsies
The cooler will bring you salvation. Tomorrow, at the 141st running of the Belmont Stakes, we are going to ride this little filly all the way to the finish line.*
I named him Blue Goose, as he has a beautiful blue tinge and will be filled with (Grey) Goose.
His father, Cold N' Frosty came from a long line of Coolers, owned by Alfa Tau Omega Fraternity, where he claimed victory at many frat parties and beach events.
Cold N' Frosty, before dressing for the " '04 Balls and Boobs" kegger.
Blue Goose's mother, Cee Horse, was a dainty little filly who was raised to never be touched. She did go out to the Hamptons one year but remained in the car.
Cee Horse, sitting proudly waiting to be banged.
When I went to pick up Blue Goose, I took him for a walk around Target. We paced well, I ran with him, his handle and wheels held up well. He gave me a bit of a struggle around Sporting Goods, only because apparently some golf clubs gave him a hard time once back in storage.
I was satisfied with its performance, and I purchased him. Hopefully with his long ancestry he will be in KemCrisPap Industries family for a long time.
" We are happy to have Blue Goose in our family. He will be a great addition to our family and will help us with our goals of becoming a strong force in the (Broad and Drinking) Industry. We have high expectations ( that Chris keeps his mouth shut if any broads come by ) for Goose, and we want to be there when he crosses the finish. (after party) We wish our other partner Coco could be with us as we prepare for this day (Hes much better than Chris ) but we wish him well on his other endeavours (getting (a) bridesmaid(s) drunk) . " - Phil Paps, Director of Debauchery
" It's water resistant " - Fabe Cristiano, VP Sandwiches
Mine That Bird, Flying Private 1-2
ck
* I used the term filly earlier in the post because I had when Lloyd said, "Did some little filly break your heart?" running through my head. Our cooler is a boy and therefore is not a filly. Thank you for pointing it out poindexter.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
06-03/Tuesdays with Morrie
Last night there was a scent in the air that took me to an old place. It wasn't the warmth of the sweet humid summer air, but rather something more pungent - the likes of apricots, vanilla, and other chemically produced pheromones. It was summer on bell blvd.
Steve and I strutted the blvd. I was draped in my Met's David Wright warm-up jersey, and Old Navy board shorts. Steve had the usual blue under armor short sleeve blue t-shirt. I didn't even know that they make those at all.
Bell blvd. has gone through secret renovations. Maybe they weren't so secret since I barely had been there. I was confining my mid week drinking to our old hole in the wall Winnie Ranigans, who really had a few holes in their walls. Their holes, however, had mice running through them, and a "cook" complete with colostomy bag. We had known one of the bartenders who hooked us up constantly, and to start they had 6 dollar pitchers anyway. Other than the Met or Yankee game, the bar had the entertainment value of an "Evening Shade" marathon, and that's even with pretending Burt Reynold's had on the oversized hat.
There are so many new hip places now, one easily recognized as the "Brews Brothers," the sign complete with Jake and Elwood silhouettes. Johnny Famous', a new "western" type club/bar complete with mechanical bull, has all suburban gay men ecstatic that their prayers were answered.
First Edition, still has 7 inch TV's and a drink "special" that consists of 3.50 pints of Coors Light. Really? That's the best you can do? You have 15, 5 inch TV's but you charge 3.50 for a skunky Coors. Terrible.
We ended up at Sullivan's but opted for sitting inside, not wanted table service. After a few 4.50 Coronas, and stories of Steve asking bartenders at a club, " Are we in Manhattan?" after they charged 34 dollars for 3 drinks and a beer, we decided to leave. Walking back to the car we counted numerous college aged gals dressed up, boobs on display, smelling like French hookers. I don't know if anyone gave them the memo, but it was Tuesday. Thanks to Steve, he reminded them by simply saying, " It's Tuesday."
One couple was making out, on the outside step of Winnie Rannigans. Winnie's had recently become a coke bar, and their crowd had significantly changed. One thing was noticeable, the blvd. was starting to bustle. Really? Tuesday? Is summer that strong?
"I guess these people don't have to work tomorrow."
ck
Steve and I strutted the blvd. I was draped in my Met's David Wright warm-up jersey, and Old Navy board shorts. Steve had the usual blue under armor short sleeve blue t-shirt. I didn't even know that they make those at all.
Bell blvd. has gone through secret renovations. Maybe they weren't so secret since I barely had been there. I was confining my mid week drinking to our old hole in the wall Winnie Ranigans, who really had a few holes in their walls. Their holes, however, had mice running through them, and a "cook" complete with colostomy bag. We had known one of the bartenders who hooked us up constantly, and to start they had 6 dollar pitchers anyway. Other than the Met or Yankee game, the bar had the entertainment value of an "Evening Shade" marathon, and that's even with pretending Burt Reynold's had on the oversized hat.
There are so many new hip places now, one easily recognized as the "Brews Brothers," the sign complete with Jake and Elwood silhouettes. Johnny Famous', a new "western" type club/bar complete with mechanical bull, has all suburban gay men ecstatic that their prayers were answered.
First Edition, still has 7 inch TV's and a drink "special" that consists of 3.50 pints of Coors Light. Really? That's the best you can do? You have 15, 5 inch TV's but you charge 3.50 for a skunky Coors. Terrible.
We ended up at Sullivan's but opted for sitting inside, not wanted table service. After a few 4.50 Coronas, and stories of Steve asking bartenders at a club, " Are we in Manhattan?" after they charged 34 dollars for 3 drinks and a beer, we decided to leave. Walking back to the car we counted numerous college aged gals dressed up, boobs on display, smelling like French hookers. I don't know if anyone gave them the memo, but it was Tuesday. Thanks to Steve, he reminded them by simply saying, " It's Tuesday."
One couple was making out, on the outside step of Winnie Rannigans. Winnie's had recently become a coke bar, and their crowd had significantly changed. One thing was noticeable, the blvd. was starting to bustle. Really? Tuesday? Is summer that strong?
"I guess these people don't have to work tomorrow."
ck
Monday, June 1, 2009
06-01/Happy June
On Sunday we enjoyed a very nice party for Fabian's graduation. He was able to get through Kindergarten with flying colors, and I had empenadas. Was delicioso.
It was great to see old friends, catch up on what is going on in our lives, and talk about the weather. A great 2 hour long set was played by "The Pretenders." I didn't even know they were still around! Lots of plans were made to hang out in the future, where bunt cakes will be flying around like hockey pucks during the Ranger's warmups.
Thank goodness Steve wasn't any much later, otherwise he would have blown the surprise. I heard it didn't matter since Tursi was doing cartwheels on the front lawn to air dry his hair while Fabian pulled up.
I had never been in so many uncomfortable situations in my life, especially when I know everyone in the party. Thank goodness that Phil delivered the question of why my legs were not as hairy as the rest of me twice. I felt less awkward the first time I changed in a public pool's locker room and hid in between 2 rows of lockers after I saw a "man" for the first time.
I do need to talk about something serious though. I'm in the market for a new baseball bat. The one that I have is suitable to my needs at the moment, but I just want a bigger one because its new. I can't even hit with a bigger one.
ck
It was great to see old friends, catch up on what is going on in our lives, and talk about the weather. A great 2 hour long set was played by "The Pretenders." I didn't even know they were still around! Lots of plans were made to hang out in the future, where bunt cakes will be flying around like hockey pucks during the Ranger's warmups.
Thank goodness Steve wasn't any much later, otherwise he would have blown the surprise. I heard it didn't matter since Tursi was doing cartwheels on the front lawn to air dry his hair while Fabian pulled up.
I had never been in so many uncomfortable situations in my life, especially when I know everyone in the party. Thank goodness that Phil delivered the question of why my legs were not as hairy as the rest of me twice. I felt less awkward the first time I changed in a public pool's locker room and hid in between 2 rows of lockers after I saw a "man" for the first time.
I do need to talk about something serious though. I'm in the market for a new baseball bat. The one that I have is suitable to my needs at the moment, but I just want a bigger one because its new. I can't even hit with a bigger one.
ck
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