That line in phenomenal.
Me, though, this night is worse than when the "Friends" writers thought is was believable that Joey and Rachel actually would have a shot. c'mon.
Thank you for inventing, "Nobody, zero." It has the power to offend people in Canada that don't know what you're talking about.
Got any lines in that rolodex of yours for my headliner?
CK
Thursday, October 29, 2009
10-29/You Make Me Laugh, Canteen Boy
As I continue on my journey of hotels and feigned sense of importance, I look to my hotel points to dictate. I meet, I act smart, I do my job. I use big words like, minimum separation, efficiency, safety. Each comment I make, a flash appears of a 32 in TV sitting in a creative wooden box.
The lack of a DVR has caused me to lose fluidity to my TV watching. Watching TV live again has reminded me of the good old days, where when the house phone rang, it very well could have been for me. These days, when I am home, the house phone ringing does not even register with me. Sometimes I don't even hear it, as I am startled to understand why Father exclaims, "Who the F*#k is calling now."
The Office, this Halloween Thursday, was nothing to get excited about. So much so that I decided to iron a shirt in my hotel room. So much so, I decided to eradicate my "suite" fridge of all frozen vegetables I had bought earlier in the week. So much so, I ate Almonds on the bed flipping to the Shithead vs. Shithead baseball game.
I finished ironing, ate steamed microwaved vegetables , and sipped on wine. Wine was free, along with dinner, in the lobby, but I had opted to pretend I was taking a second glass of wine to my room for a lover. That lover ended up being Tina Fey.
As much of a lackluster episode the Office was, 30 Rock has gotten better and better since it's season premiere 3 weeks ago. I can watch Tina, and Liz Lemon and think very happy thoughts that resurrect above unhappy ones, as I remember why I think Liz/Tina is so loveable and so damn funny. Plenty of funny stuff from everyone else on the show too.
Enjoy your Friday, as I ASScela my way home.
As you wrap up your work week and groom your mustaches for an interesting Halloween, listen to this as I continue my Passion Pit bandwagon tour. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=frHHS5FZWnM
ck
The lack of a DVR has caused me to lose fluidity to my TV watching. Watching TV live again has reminded me of the good old days, where when the house phone rang, it very well could have been for me. These days, when I am home, the house phone ringing does not even register with me. Sometimes I don't even hear it, as I am startled to understand why Father exclaims, "Who the F*#k is calling now."
The Office, this Halloween Thursday, was nothing to get excited about. So much so that I decided to iron a shirt in my hotel room. So much so, I decided to eradicate my "suite" fridge of all frozen vegetables I had bought earlier in the week. So much so, I ate Almonds on the bed flipping to the Shithead vs. Shithead baseball game.
I finished ironing, ate steamed microwaved vegetables , and sipped on wine. Wine was free, along with dinner, in the lobby, but I had opted to pretend I was taking a second glass of wine to my room for a lover. That lover ended up being Tina Fey.
As much of a lackluster episode the Office was, 30 Rock has gotten better and better since it's season premiere 3 weeks ago. I can watch Tina, and Liz Lemon and think very happy thoughts that resurrect above unhappy ones, as I remember why I think Liz/Tina is so loveable and so damn funny. Plenty of funny stuff from everyone else on the show too.
Enjoy your Friday, as I ASScela my way home.
As you wrap up your work week and groom your mustaches for an interesting Halloween, listen to this as I continue my Passion Pit bandwagon tour. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=frHHS5FZWnM
ck
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
10-27/PHL blues
We talked about this over the weekend.
http://www.foxnews.com/entertainment/2009/10/27/david-spade-chris-farley-family-defend-new-directv-ad/
ck
http://www.foxnews.com/entertainment/2009/10/27/david-spade-chris-farley-family-defend-new-directv-ad/
ck
Thursday, October 22, 2009
10-23/Halloween Horrows
It's official. Magnum P.I. Guess who is going to be who.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lrk9wsQtUgc
Still in Philadelphia. Backed up on some articles for you all.
Trick or treat.
ck
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lrk9wsQtUgc
Still in Philadelphia. Backed up on some articles for you all.
Trick or treat.
ck
Friday, October 16, 2009
10-16/The Pizza Man Lives!
http://cornerbar-cwk.blogspot.com/2008/10/pizza-man.html
On a cold and rainy Friday afternoon, my colleague and I walked through the FAA Cafe as we normally did every day at lunch. Today there was no umpf, no zest, and no special. We decided we'd hike across the street to try the pizza place.
Situated in a strip mall that catered to most of JFK's workers, the pizza place shared its inhabitance with a Check cashing place, Chinese take-out, and a deli that seemed to take most of the lunch crowd.
Excited to always try a new slice of pizza, we sat down at a table and had at it. I briefly took notice of someone saying, "onions," at the counter, but continued on my merry way talking to Dan about Atlantic City.
This onion gentleman now appeared at the table diagonal from us, and he settled in with a tuna sandwich on a roll, and a bottle of water. He wore a very nice suit, with a fancy tie that was so close to his top button, it almost was attached to his Adam's apple. Probably around 50, he wore designer framed glasses, and had a shaved head.
He dined alone, and obviously had something on his mind. Almost as if he was blind he stared towards the window for a bit and then searched for his bottle of water. Unsuccessful for a few moments, he snapped out of his trance and turned his head toward the .5 liter of Poland Spring and grabbed it.
Next he arranged his sandwich by ensuring that it was broken in half by completely separating the pieces and placing them neatly on the plate. He slightly opened his mouth doing so, as if his hands were of a lovers,' teasing him gently with edible sensuality.
Then the moment arrived.
He grabbed the left half with his left hand. Soon after his right hand joined in the heavy lifting. Contorting the sandwich around to protect gravity from stealing any morsel of the the minced fish, his mouth opened wide causing him to squint through his rectangular lenses. Then the trance began.
The eyes released from the squint and opened again towards the window. He chewed as if he was reciting a prayer, and then swallowed with a wince as if it was a annoying distraction. But before he could sulk that he no longer had food, he jammed another mouthful of the remaining half - his eyes and mouth now wide looking like the bite even took him by surprise. He completed the bite by shaking his head back and forth like a crocodile killing its prey.
After completing his chew, his eyes remained fixed on the window. He grabbed the water, this time remembering where it exactly was so he could continuing staring, unblinking, at what appeared to be a cartoon pizza man affixed to the window flipping a pie. His head tilted backwards to accommodate the cold bottled water, eyes remaining level at the pizza man.
I started laughing and Dan asked me why. I said I would tell him later, and we left.
ck
On a cold and rainy Friday afternoon, my colleague and I walked through the FAA Cafe as we normally did every day at lunch. Today there was no umpf, no zest, and no special. We decided we'd hike across the street to try the pizza place.
Situated in a strip mall that catered to most of JFK's workers, the pizza place shared its inhabitance with a Check cashing place, Chinese take-out, and a deli that seemed to take most of the lunch crowd.
Excited to always try a new slice of pizza, we sat down at a table and had at it. I briefly took notice of someone saying, "onions," at the counter, but continued on my merry way talking to Dan about Atlantic City.
This onion gentleman now appeared at the table diagonal from us, and he settled in with a tuna sandwich on a roll, and a bottle of water. He wore a very nice suit, with a fancy tie that was so close to his top button, it almost was attached to his Adam's apple. Probably around 50, he wore designer framed glasses, and had a shaved head.
He dined alone, and obviously had something on his mind. Almost as if he was blind he stared towards the window for a bit and then searched for his bottle of water. Unsuccessful for a few moments, he snapped out of his trance and turned his head toward the .5 liter of Poland Spring and grabbed it.
Next he arranged his sandwich by ensuring that it was broken in half by completely separating the pieces and placing them neatly on the plate. He slightly opened his mouth doing so, as if his hands were of a lovers,' teasing him gently with edible sensuality.
Then the moment arrived.
He grabbed the left half with his left hand. Soon after his right hand joined in the heavy lifting. Contorting the sandwich around to protect gravity from stealing any morsel of the the minced fish, his mouth opened wide causing him to squint through his rectangular lenses. Then the trance began.
The eyes released from the squint and opened again towards the window. He chewed as if he was reciting a prayer, and then swallowed with a wince as if it was a annoying distraction. But before he could sulk that he no longer had food, he jammed another mouthful of the remaining half - his eyes and mouth now wide looking like the bite even took him by surprise. He completed the bite by shaking his head back and forth like a crocodile killing its prey.
After completing his chew, his eyes remained fixed on the window. He grabbed the water, this time remembering where it exactly was so he could continuing staring, unblinking, at what appeared to be a cartoon pizza man affixed to the window flipping a pie. His head tilted backwards to accommodate the cold bottled water, eyes remaining level at the pizza man.
I started laughing and Dan asked me why. I said I would tell him later, and we left.
ck
10-16/Fall Email Cleaning
My email has been cluttered, and I decided to clean it out. Along with stomach-aching pictures, I found a possible prologue to my book that I had started ( and still only 3 chapters in ) - yes this is also the screenplay, hopefully to be narrated by Morgan Freeman.
Have fun making fun.
--------------------------
Legend, myth, or religion, has us to believe that in the beginning, it was Adam and Eve. One day, the same day as luck would have it, they both discovered there was something weird underneath these leaves attached to their bodies. Get it on.
From there on, man was with woman. Woman was with man. Then someone figured out a way for man to be with man, and after some contorting, woman was with woman. Then one day a cow moo-ed, and some weirdo was with animal. Then woman was with machine, then man was with door frame. Not sure how much emotion was included, but certainly there was some amount of pain, mixed with pleasure.
No matter how you slice it, since the dawn of time, our bodies were meant to interact with others. I think the higher powers envisioned it to be with other humans, but hey, everyone gets lonely. While there are many integral parts to the body that keeps us living, it appears that the heart and mind work together night and day. Sometimes they work for you, and you pay them well, and then sometimes they fuck you over.
If you pay them well, and keep tequila away from them, they come to work on time, always have nice ironed shirts, and for the most part work through lunch. If you ever let them hit a karaoke bar together, they’ll be shitfaced by 8pm, and singing “Love stinks” until the regulars brow beat them out the door. Then they’ll hit an Irish bar and drink whiskey until the morning when they are supposed to be at work.
All of a sudden, you have a broken heart, and your mind has no idea how to fix it.
With this power to make or break you, they are the most powerful tandem since the Captain and Tenile. It’s always best to keep them happy, and sober, reporting to work on time.
The heart, an amazing part of machinery, is made of valves and chambers, that pump blood to all parts of your body. Not only can it feel pain physically, but its life is personified by the hurt of emotional pain. As the mind analyzes mental pain, it calls the heart on its lunch break and tells it all the stuff that’s going on.
These two are inseparable, and they WILL make or break you.
ck
Have fun making fun.
--------------------------
Legend, myth, or religion, has us to believe that in the beginning, it was Adam and Eve. One day, the same day as luck would have it, they both discovered there was something weird underneath these leaves attached to their bodies. Get it on.
From there on, man was with woman. Woman was with man. Then someone figured out a way for man to be with man, and after some contorting, woman was with woman. Then one day a cow moo-ed, and some weirdo was with animal. Then woman was with machine, then man was with door frame. Not sure how much emotion was included, but certainly there was some amount of pain, mixed with pleasure.
No matter how you slice it, since the dawn of time, our bodies were meant to interact with others. I think the higher powers envisioned it to be with other humans, but hey, everyone gets lonely. While there are many integral parts to the body that keeps us living, it appears that the heart and mind work together night and day. Sometimes they work for you, and you pay them well, and then sometimes they fuck you over.
If you pay them well, and keep tequila away from them, they come to work on time, always have nice ironed shirts, and for the most part work through lunch. If you ever let them hit a karaoke bar together, they’ll be shitfaced by 8pm, and singing “Love stinks” until the regulars brow beat them out the door. Then they’ll hit an Irish bar and drink whiskey until the morning when they are supposed to be at work.
All of a sudden, you have a broken heart, and your mind has no idea how to fix it.
With this power to make or break you, they are the most powerful tandem since the Captain and Tenile. It’s always best to keep them happy, and sober, reporting to work on time.
The heart, an amazing part of machinery, is made of valves and chambers, that pump blood to all parts of your body. Not only can it feel pain physically, but its life is personified by the hurt of emotional pain. As the mind analyzes mental pain, it calls the heart on its lunch break and tells it all the stuff that’s going on.
These two are inseparable, and they WILL make or break you.
ck
Thursday, October 15, 2009
10-15/HorseSh*t and HandCream
My past experiences of some of the greatest "bankers' hours" events has been limited to a drunken recap of a scenario that has just occurred.
Me ( usually at work ) : "hello"
whoever : "You gotta see it, a whole bachelorette party"
Me : "what?"
who : "all of em, ( putting phone away from mouth ) nobodies ( yelling in their direction )
Me : " where..?"
who : " I was just having cappuccinos with Pete Sampras, he had to leave to meet up with Brady Quinn and they are going squirrel hunting. Then all these putans marched in. "
Finally I am a part of these festivities, as now I can attend anything that you all can attend with my "bankers' hours."
This Saturday October 17, Far Hills will be hosting their annual Steeplechase Championship, otherwise known as, "The Hunt." The "classy" tailgate, as I always imagined it, involves a class conflict all drinking together to celebrate horsies.
I remember a few years back Paps mentioning "the Hunt." The first couple of times he said it, I didn't register what exactly this was. Between me thinking about what I would order for lunch and zoning out at work, I thought he was talking about a not very nice female, otherwise referring to her as "That **NT." Really he was talking up, "The Hunt."
This year, as I'll proudly mention again, I have weekends off finally and have been invited to this year's Hunt. Never having been there before, I thought about last year and how I got a play by play, inspiring me to write http://cornerbar-cwk.blogspot.com/2008/10/food-committee.html, as a review of 2008's event.
Here's what I can remember.....
Phone call # 1 - 1 hour into it.
" I tell you what. There are lots of fine broads here. This is where you want to be."
Phone call # 2 - 3 hours into it.
" If you want to find a nice girl, this is it. Class................Class. Probably nice families, catholic......this one, look at this one. Probably went to Vandy..."
Phone call # 3 - 5 hours into it.
EXTREMELY LOUD
"You gotta see these spreads. Brisket. Wine. CLASS baby, CLASS. UUU--FA! Como se dice! This one just walked by in a sundress. It's 50 degrees out. CLASS baby. "
I'm not sure exactly how this year will pan out. Rain for four days should make the ground nice and muddy. My bow tie may not make it out, but seeing Fabe in mock wellington boots might just make up for it.
ck
Me ( usually at work ) : "hello"
whoever : "You gotta see it, a whole bachelorette party"
Me : "what?"
who : "all of em, ( putting phone away from mouth ) nobodies ( yelling in their direction )
Me : " where..?"
who : " I was just having cappuccinos with Pete Sampras, he had to leave to meet up with Brady Quinn and they are going squirrel hunting. Then all these putans marched in. "
Finally I am a part of these festivities, as now I can attend anything that you all can attend with my "bankers' hours."
This Saturday October 17, Far Hills will be hosting their annual Steeplechase Championship, otherwise known as, "The Hunt." The "classy" tailgate, as I always imagined it, involves a class conflict all drinking together to celebrate horsies.
I remember a few years back Paps mentioning "the Hunt." The first couple of times he said it, I didn't register what exactly this was. Between me thinking about what I would order for lunch and zoning out at work, I thought he was talking about a not very nice female, otherwise referring to her as "That **NT." Really he was talking up, "The Hunt."
This year, as I'll proudly mention again, I have weekends off finally and have been invited to this year's Hunt. Never having been there before, I thought about last year and how I got a play by play, inspiring me to write http://cornerbar-cwk.blogspot.com/2008/10/food-committee.html, as a review of 2008's event.
Here's what I can remember.....
Phone call # 1 - 1 hour into it.
" I tell you what. There are lots of fine broads here. This is where you want to be."
Phone call # 2 - 3 hours into it.
" If you want to find a nice girl, this is it. Class................Class. Probably nice families, catholic......this one, look at this one. Probably went to Vandy..."
Phone call # 3 - 5 hours into it.
EXTREMELY LOUD
"You gotta see these spreads. Brisket. Wine. CLASS baby, CLASS. UUU--FA! Como se dice! This one just walked by in a sundress. It's 50 degrees out. CLASS baby. "
I'm not sure exactly how this year will pan out. Rain for four days should make the ground nice and muddy. My bow tie may not make it out, but seeing Fabe in mock wellington boots might just make up for it.
ck
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
10-13/Magic Carpet Ride
I sat on top of a 2 foot stone wall that lined the edges of the walkway in the Magic Kingdom. My undershirt was drenched in sweat, and the white polo above it hung wrinkled as if he came out of the dryer just a little damp. A sun shower started and I decided that I would take cover before I had a wet t-shirt contest duel with Minnie.
Motorized carts whizzed by driven by obese people, morbidly obese people, old people, and even young people. You had to wonder if the young people had any problems, or if they just didn't want to walk around.
A grandfather drove an electric wheelchair with his grandson sitting affectionately on top. They stopped and congregated with the child's mother, and assumed grandmother, donned in a Mickey Mouse Halter Top circa 1988. I tried not to make fun of the gathering since I was in the Magic Kingdom with my parents, Godparents, sister and boyfriend, Godparents son and girlfriend, daughter, and two teenage sons - at this moment taking pictures of them coming down Splash Mountain. I had no right.
Then the grandfather stopped the wheelchair, and the grandson got off his lap. "End of the line," I thought. The grandfather will just have to wat.....then with a spring in his step, grandpa jumped up and grabbed the grandson by hand and ran to the end of the ride's line as if the 4 people they would beat would mean hours of time saved.
Bewildered, I went back to holding the camera ready for my family to come down the slide. I thought about last nights flight, and how the captain thanked me over the PA for "having pull" all along the coast and getting us in early. How Zach, my Jetblue boy kept bringing me free wine the whole flight. How 3 people thanked me as they walked by my row, obviously guessing that I was "him."
Nobody. Zero. (RR)
Now, my next excitement came in the form of ice cream shaped like Mickey.
In all seriousness, the wine and food fair ( held in the convention center that formerly was home to "Body Wars" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Body_Wars ) was pretty great. I don't pretend to know or care about the "swirl and sniff" moves, but I do enjoy wines and learning about the different cultures. Up and Coming - Argentinean and Israel Wine.
The highlight of the trip was sitting next to my Godmother on the Buzz Lightyear ride, where you have to shoot lasers from your car and a real score populated on your monitor. Jack Sparrow now appears in "Pirates of the Carribean" 3 times, and our guide on the "Jungle Cruise," who looked and acted like an "ex," mockingly hit on my Godparent's very in-shape teenage son. Great.
Before I knew it I was back in the airport preparing for the flight home. I joked and spoke business with Paps on the phone, not realizing that the mother across from me was now breastfeeding her child. I had gone into a trance as we spoke about Ole Miss' tailgating tradition, and as I daydreamed about myself in seersucker, I was gazing right in the mom's direction. When I snapped out of it I became uncomfortable when I realized what had just happened.
I escaped towards the men's room, where an unusually long line had formed. In front of me an eastern European man gave his rollaway suitcase to his wife, who responded with a Polish-sounding admonition, or at least that's what I'm assuming by her tone. We made our way in, and the man checked to see if there was any vacancy in the stalls. The only open urinal was a bowl shaped protrusion, I'm assuming available for handicap users.
This wasn't an option for him, and most certainly not for me, so I followed him over to the stall area. He returned to the urinal row, since a normal one had opened up, but I stayed over in the other section. Realizing that there was going to be no room over there for a while, I turned back.
The eastern European was now set up in the middle of the pack with his shorts around his ankles, and his blue briefs pulled down to around his thighs. I decided to do the "look at my watch and realize I need to go do something else" routine, and headed out the door.
It was almost time to board the plane, so I just hid in the corner listening to the Passion Pit's "Eyes Like Candles," until it had no meaning. It was time to go home more tired than when I had arrived.
I need a vacation.
ck
Motorized carts whizzed by driven by obese people, morbidly obese people, old people, and even young people. You had to wonder if the young people had any problems, or if they just didn't want to walk around.
A grandfather drove an electric wheelchair with his grandson sitting affectionately on top. They stopped and congregated with the child's mother, and assumed grandmother, donned in a Mickey Mouse Halter Top circa 1988. I tried not to make fun of the gathering since I was in the Magic Kingdom with my parents, Godparents, sister and boyfriend, Godparents son and girlfriend, daughter, and two teenage sons - at this moment taking pictures of them coming down Splash Mountain. I had no right.
Then the grandfather stopped the wheelchair, and the grandson got off his lap. "End of the line," I thought. The grandfather will just have to wat.....then with a spring in his step, grandpa jumped up and grabbed the grandson by hand and ran to the end of the ride's line as if the 4 people they would beat would mean hours of time saved.
Bewildered, I went back to holding the camera ready for my family to come down the slide. I thought about last nights flight, and how the captain thanked me over the PA for "having pull" all along the coast and getting us in early. How Zach, my Jetblue boy kept bringing me free wine the whole flight. How 3 people thanked me as they walked by my row, obviously guessing that I was "him."
Nobody. Zero. (RR)
Now, my next excitement came in the form of ice cream shaped like Mickey.
In all seriousness, the wine and food fair ( held in the convention center that formerly was home to "Body Wars" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Body_Wars ) was pretty great. I don't pretend to know or care about the "swirl and sniff" moves, but I do enjoy wines and learning about the different cultures. Up and Coming - Argentinean and Israel Wine.
The highlight of the trip was sitting next to my Godmother on the Buzz Lightyear ride, where you have to shoot lasers from your car and a real score populated on your monitor. Jack Sparrow now appears in "Pirates of the Carribean" 3 times, and our guide on the "Jungle Cruise," who looked and acted like an "ex," mockingly hit on my Godparent's very in-shape teenage son. Great.
Before I knew it I was back in the airport preparing for the flight home. I joked and spoke business with Paps on the phone, not realizing that the mother across from me was now breastfeeding her child. I had gone into a trance as we spoke about Ole Miss' tailgating tradition, and as I daydreamed about myself in seersucker, I was gazing right in the mom's direction. When I snapped out of it I became uncomfortable when I realized what had just happened.
I escaped towards the men's room, where an unusually long line had formed. In front of me an eastern European man gave his rollaway suitcase to his wife, who responded with a Polish-sounding admonition, or at least that's what I'm assuming by her tone. We made our way in, and the man checked to see if there was any vacancy in the stalls. The only open urinal was a bowl shaped protrusion, I'm assuming available for handicap users.
This wasn't an option for him, and most certainly not for me, so I followed him over to the stall area. He returned to the urinal row, since a normal one had opened up, but I stayed over in the other section. Realizing that there was going to be no room over there for a while, I turned back.
The eastern European was now set up in the middle of the pack with his shorts around his ankles, and his blue briefs pulled down to around his thighs. I decided to do the "look at my watch and realize I need to go do something else" routine, and headed out the door.
It was almost time to board the plane, so I just hid in the corner listening to the Passion Pit's "Eyes Like Candles," until it had no meaning. It was time to go home more tired than when I had arrived.
I need a vacation.
ck
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
10-08/Pains of My Labor Pt. V
It was a beautiful Sunday morning. My air mattress started off fully inflated, so my slumber was not too bad. Something was wrong though; I wasn't hung over.
I headed downstairs and puttered through the kitchen. This morning I didn't feel like cooking, but I surveyed the rations and what was available. Shortly after, Paps arrived, shirtless as usual. He disappeared and I heard the door slam shut, followed a few seconds later by another slam. Nope, still not improved.
The rest of the house was still in deep slumber, so we decided to put on real clothes ( not a swimsuit ) and head out to town. There was a bit of a nip in the air, a harbinger of the end of many things to come. We hit the diner in town, a massive place that could hold up to 18 people.
I sat on the side of the booth that faced the tennis courts; inspired by the U.S. Open that was going on minutes from my house, but many miles from our present position. An attractive young lady was playing tennis, badly, with an older gentleman that was probably named Morty. He also probably had 6 cars, 3 of them convertibles, a summer home in all corners of the country, and most likely a boat, simply named "$," maybe with a smiley face next to it.
The diner was bustling with activity, and people watching was at an all time high. A man with two kids taking up a section meant for 8 - a hipster trio talking about money - a couple who jumped at the opportunity to sit at the counter, scoffing at those that wanted to wait for a table.
A teenager eventually occupied a booth that could hold 4. He was joined by an older gentleman, a young child, and a smoking hot close to 30 year old, dolled up in a way that she had some vices to hide.
Phil and I shared French Toast, and wondered if we'd ever be this rich.
Short of apple picking, we enjoyed the fruits of the town for a Sunday Morning. Making a turn down a road, Larry David and guest were leaving their house. Paps saw Tiki Barber in a convertible, and I swore I saw Brad and Angelina driving in a 50's Mercedes convertible. (They were in France or something) I was excited to get back to the house to do nothing, and when we arrived, the other campers were preparing themselves for a day at the beach. 85 degrees of sun with a warm breeze.....was not what it was like this day.
Their cab arrived to take them to the public beach, a place where you needed an unattainable parking pass to park. I declined to accompany them, as Paps and I wanted to work on our model ship in a bottle.
Paps and I decided to head out to explore the north side beaches, so we packed up Belmont and went on our pilgrimage. The beach was cluttered with thousands of little rocks, and we played a rousing game of throw this rock the closest to that rock. It reminded me of earlier, when 85 year old Gladys told us about the "clubs"in the area, as she sat and watched her grandaughter clam in the bay.
I'm actually falling asleep writing this right now.
Somehow me and Paps got drunk and made our way back to the house where we ate steak sandwiches. Business was slowly picking up on this last twilight of our Hamptons excursion. The roommates arrived back, annoyed that we finally started to have fun. I was reminded of when I first met them, and a silhouette of Paps face appeared reminding me, "Who are they? They're nobodies, that's who......Nobodies."
We got a "throw the football and a dive into the pool game" going. After wearing my bathing suit for most of the weekend, I ironically jumped into the pool wearing my regular shorts. When the ball flew into the trees, I decided to walk shirtless in between the shrubs. Acting like Sasquatch, I got the nickname 'bear.'
Uninterested in showering inside, I got my shampoo and body wash and bathed in the pool. Apparently the roommates wanted to prepare for their polar bear club activities and bathe the next day, so I disrupted the equilibrium of the pool. I felt bad, then "Nobodies" whispered through my head.
We continued power hour(s) through the rest of the evening, deciding on where we would go. Our goal was http://www.stephentalkhouse.com/, which looked like a great place to go, however I wasn't understanding of their economics.
The cover for their 8 p.m. band was 100 dollars, 10 p.m. 10 dollars, and 1130 was 25 dollars. I think we showed up at 945 p.m. and they wanted the 100 dollars. No one was in there. We ended up going to the Irish bar next door for a while, actually having a pretty good time there. One person in the bar stood out as "looks familiar," and Paps with the call announced it was Mark Prior. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_Prior
At the Irish Bar a gentleman asked one of our lady friends to dinner. Married, he was on some Harvard Medical School Board proven by a large piece of gauze attached to his face and a worn out baseball cap that said "Harvard" on it. Networking.
We eventually went next door back to the Talkhouse, but had missed the 10 dollar cover, and had to pony up 25. Entering the place I was presently surprised, as the outdoor bar area was full of people, but in arranged in a comfortable symmetry allowing easy passage through the crowd.
As if it was a giveaway night at the ballgame, Paps got 3 numbers by just walking into the place. I got a shot of Jaeger, that I paid for.
Inside the building was another bar area that played faster, dance-type music, but bottle-necked into the main room/bar where the bands played. I quickly found myself alone as Paps took a meeting in the fast/dance bar, and CD took care of some paperwork.
After Paps finished up, he joined me for a few drinks in between his next meeting. After talking for a while, he invited me to observe, but I told him that I had a meeting of my own with a housemate. He replied, "Nobodies." Got it.
So we danced to the live music = Paps danced to the live music and I stood in the corner.
We met lots of people = me in the corner/Paps 3 more numbers.
CD left some things in his briefcase at the house, so he had to get back early, eventually leading Paps and I to retreat back to the house. Searching for a livery cab that would take us back, Paps jumped in and bargained. A second later another local cab driver announced that our trip would be a large percentage less so we jumped in with him.
The two drivers were at odds over this and alot of "halalalalalalala" ensued. As I urged the driver to leave so I could make cheeseburgers back at the house, our 1:00 clients entered the cab. Paps' eyes lit up as if a drunk bachelorette party had just walked in begging to party.
I = Cheeseburger.
Paps' client could barely speak, and her friend had a boyfriend, and I wanted a fucking cheeseburger. They allegedly asked us to party at their empty mansion but I had some business back at the house - cheeseburger - that needed attention immediately.
We almost hit a deer and then we were back home. I ate a cheeseburger. CD's business associate was on the couch.
Great Night.
ck
I headed downstairs and puttered through the kitchen. This morning I didn't feel like cooking, but I surveyed the rations and what was available. Shortly after, Paps arrived, shirtless as usual. He disappeared and I heard the door slam shut, followed a few seconds later by another slam. Nope, still not improved.
The rest of the house was still in deep slumber, so we decided to put on real clothes ( not a swimsuit ) and head out to town. There was a bit of a nip in the air, a harbinger of the end of many things to come. We hit the diner in town, a massive place that could hold up to 18 people.
I sat on the side of the booth that faced the tennis courts; inspired by the U.S. Open that was going on minutes from my house, but many miles from our present position. An attractive young lady was playing tennis, badly, with an older gentleman that was probably named Morty. He also probably had 6 cars, 3 of them convertibles, a summer home in all corners of the country, and most likely a boat, simply named "$," maybe with a smiley face next to it.
The diner was bustling with activity, and people watching was at an all time high. A man with two kids taking up a section meant for 8 - a hipster trio talking about money - a couple who jumped at the opportunity to sit at the counter, scoffing at those that wanted to wait for a table.
A teenager eventually occupied a booth that could hold 4. He was joined by an older gentleman, a young child, and a smoking hot close to 30 year old, dolled up in a way that she had some vices to hide.
Phil and I shared French Toast, and wondered if we'd ever be this rich.
Short of apple picking, we enjoyed the fruits of the town for a Sunday Morning. Making a turn down a road, Larry David and guest were leaving their house. Paps saw Tiki Barber in a convertible, and I swore I saw Brad and Angelina driving in a 50's Mercedes convertible. (They were in France or something) I was excited to get back to the house to do nothing, and when we arrived, the other campers were preparing themselves for a day at the beach. 85 degrees of sun with a warm breeze.....was not what it was like this day.
Their cab arrived to take them to the public beach, a place where you needed an unattainable parking pass to park. I declined to accompany them, as Paps and I wanted to work on our model ship in a bottle.
Paps and I decided to head out to explore the north side beaches, so we packed up Belmont and went on our pilgrimage. The beach was cluttered with thousands of little rocks, and we played a rousing game of throw this rock the closest to that rock. It reminded me of earlier, when 85 year old Gladys told us about the "clubs"in the area, as she sat and watched her grandaughter clam in the bay.
I'm actually falling asleep writing this right now.
Somehow me and Paps got drunk and made our way back to the house where we ate steak sandwiches. Business was slowly picking up on this last twilight of our Hamptons excursion. The roommates arrived back, annoyed that we finally started to have fun. I was reminded of when I first met them, and a silhouette of Paps face appeared reminding me, "Who are they? They're nobodies, that's who......Nobodies."
We got a "throw the football and a dive into the pool game" going. After wearing my bathing suit for most of the weekend, I ironically jumped into the pool wearing my regular shorts. When the ball flew into the trees, I decided to walk shirtless in between the shrubs. Acting like Sasquatch, I got the nickname 'bear.'
Uninterested in showering inside, I got my shampoo and body wash and bathed in the pool. Apparently the roommates wanted to prepare for their polar bear club activities and bathe the next day, so I disrupted the equilibrium of the pool. I felt bad, then "Nobodies" whispered through my head.
We continued power hour(s) through the rest of the evening, deciding on where we would go. Our goal was http://www.stephentalkhouse.com/, which looked like a great place to go, however I wasn't understanding of their economics.
The cover for their 8 p.m. band was 100 dollars, 10 p.m. 10 dollars, and 1130 was 25 dollars. I think we showed up at 945 p.m. and they wanted the 100 dollars. No one was in there. We ended up going to the Irish bar next door for a while, actually having a pretty good time there. One person in the bar stood out as "looks familiar," and Paps with the call announced it was Mark Prior. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_Prior
At the Irish Bar a gentleman asked one of our lady friends to dinner. Married, he was on some Harvard Medical School Board proven by a large piece of gauze attached to his face and a worn out baseball cap that said "Harvard" on it. Networking.
We eventually went next door back to the Talkhouse, but had missed the 10 dollar cover, and had to pony up 25. Entering the place I was presently surprised, as the outdoor bar area was full of people, but in arranged in a comfortable symmetry allowing easy passage through the crowd.
As if it was a giveaway night at the ballgame, Paps got 3 numbers by just walking into the place. I got a shot of Jaeger, that I paid for.
Inside the building was another bar area that played faster, dance-type music, but bottle-necked into the main room/bar where the bands played. I quickly found myself alone as Paps took a meeting in the fast/dance bar, and CD took care of some paperwork.
After Paps finished up, he joined me for a few drinks in between his next meeting. After talking for a while, he invited me to observe, but I told him that I had a meeting of my own with a housemate. He replied, "Nobodies." Got it.
So we danced to the live music = Paps danced to the live music and I stood in the corner.
We met lots of people = me in the corner/Paps 3 more numbers.
CD left some things in his briefcase at the house, so he had to get back early, eventually leading Paps and I to retreat back to the house. Searching for a livery cab that would take us back, Paps jumped in and bargained. A second later another local cab driver announced that our trip would be a large percentage less so we jumped in with him.
The two drivers were at odds over this and alot of "halalalalalalala" ensued. As I urged the driver to leave so I could make cheeseburgers back at the house, our 1:00 clients entered the cab. Paps' eyes lit up as if a drunk bachelorette party had just walked in begging to party.
I = Cheeseburger.
Paps' client could barely speak, and her friend had a boyfriend, and I wanted a fucking cheeseburger. They allegedly asked us to party at their empty mansion but I had some business back at the house - cheeseburger - that needed attention immediately.
We almost hit a deer and then we were back home. I ate a cheeseburger. CD's business associate was on the couch.
Great Night.
ck
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
10-07/"It's Just Odd and a Little Bit Offensive"
I said excuse me little mama if I may
Take this thought and send it your way
And if you don’t like that, then send it right back,
But I just gotta sayI wanna be on you (on you)
I wanna be on you (on you)
And if you don’t like that, then send it right back
-Ne Yo / Flo Rida
I wanna say something. I'm gonna put it out there; if you like it, you can take it, if you don't, send it right back. I want to be on you.
-Ron Burgundy
Is this a well known situation and I got the memo late?
ck
Take this thought and send it your way
And if you don’t like that, then send it right back,
But I just gotta sayI wanna be on you (on you)
I wanna be on you (on you)
And if you don’t like that, then send it right back
-Ne Yo / Flo Rida
I wanna say something. I'm gonna put it out there; if you like it, you can take it, if you don't, send it right back. I want to be on you.
-Ron Burgundy
Is this a well known situation and I got the memo late?
ck
Friday, October 2, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
10-01/Calling All Plastic Surgeons
Fwd: Opportunity to be on TV
From:Matt Baseball (chach@.com)
Sent:Thu 10/01/09 2:21 PM
To:Chris
Bro, right up your alley!!!
Sent from my iPhone
Begin forwarded message:
From: Tim
Date: October 1, 2009 12:38:57 PM EDT
Subject: Opportunity to be on TV
MEMO
To: All MSBL/MABL League Presidents
From: Steve Sigler
I have been contacted by the ABC TV Show, The Bachelorette.
As stated in their memo to me -
The search is on for 25 suitors, age 25-35, who will meet the next Bachelorette. Do you know someone with the personality, charisma and a sense of adventure, who is ready to have some fun and possibly find true love?
They are looking, through our league, for men who play baseball.
Please feel free to publicize throughout your league and indicate if someone fits this category to contact Kelli , casting producer - or call -954-.
Thank you!
Steve--
hmmm..........
ck
From:Matt Baseball (chach@.com)
Sent:Thu 10/01/09 2:21 PM
To:Chris
Bro, right up your alley!!!
Sent from my iPhone
Begin forwarded message:
From: Tim
Date: October 1, 2009 12:38:57 PM EDT
Subject: Opportunity to be on TV
MEMO
To: All MSBL/MABL League Presidents
From: Steve Sigler
I have been contacted by the ABC TV Show, The Bachelorette.
As stated in their memo to me -
The search is on for 25 suitors, age 25-35, who will meet the next Bachelorette. Do you know someone with the personality, charisma and a sense of adventure, who is ready to have some fun and possibly find true love?
They are looking, through our league, for men who play baseball.
Please feel free to publicize throughout your league and indicate if someone fits this category to contact Kelli , casting producer - or call -954-.
Thank you!
Steve--
hmmm..........
ck
10-01/So You Think You Can What?
SYTYCD - I watched 5 minutes of this show during a piece on a "romantic ballroom" dance team. The woman was the only one that was trying out, but the companion was only there to help her in support. His white shirt was open to reveal his chest, and it was spread in a fashion where it must have been glued open. I don't know how this is accomplished, however it must involve alot of starch or perhaps crazy glue.
Modern Family - The best show on TV right now. It's good to see Al Bundy back, except he's rich and his new character's personality is a bit toned down from Al. Ty Burrell, "Phil" is already taking the lead as most Arrested Development like character. Funny guy, uses alot of physical humor.
Glad to see updates from Dubai.
ck
Modern Family - The best show on TV right now. It's good to see Al Bundy back, except he's rich and his new character's personality is a bit toned down from Al. Ty Burrell, "Phil" is already taking the lead as most Arrested Development like character. Funny guy, uses alot of physical humor.
Glad to see updates from Dubai.
ck
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