Last night on my way to Prey for Steve's birthday I was walking up 22nd street towards 5th when I spotted a full moon. Not in the sky though but rather right on the street. Here's what happened.
A white mini was parked along the side of the street. A rather large girl got out of it on the passenger side and was yelling something to her friends. I couldn't really make it out because I wasn't paying attention to her. She came around the back of the mini van and i could see her fiddling with her pants. Now I was paying more attention because I was getting closer.
Approaching the driver's side door she dropped 'em! All I saw was a big fat white ass. She made Roseann Barr look small. That's how big she was.
As she dropped her, someone came out of the building next to me. "What the fuck is that!" the guy said. In that instance she turned and yelled "oh fuck i can't go they're watching." Believe me I was staring but not watching. It was a pretty awful sight but a good story to tell when I finally got to the bar.
Good times, lots of laughs.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Friday, July 29, 2005
Live Life to the Fullest
Can someone shoot the next asshole who says "you need to experience life. Live life to the fullest." Just because i'd rather be a lazy shit and sit on my couch (technically my roommates couch) watching women's College Softball instead of being outside doing something exciting doesn't make me a bad person. Hey i've lived life. I'm tired! Give me a beer, a couch, a remote control and let me be. I pedaled a bike 350 miles in a weekend. I've rode that same bike 100 miles on 3 seperate occassions. All of these accomplishments were done for a good cause. Not for me. They were done to raise money.
Now Mr. Live Life to the Fullest, what the hell have you done for someone else? Ya jerk off. I just read an article about getting out and experiencing life which is why I'm suddenly fired up.
Everyone lives their lives differently. I did my part now give me a pint of Ben & Jerry's, the spoon is optional. It annoys me the people who say these things and I probably said them too at one point. What does that make me? It too puts me in the category of Gym Class Hero. You know the guy. The dude who took gym class above and beyond the call of duty. My brother teaches phys ed to middle school students but he wasn't a gym class hero. He's a guy trying to make a difference in kid's health and futures.
The gym class here is the guy who dives for a ball in high school gym class. He's the same dude who gets fired up in a bar when drinking or pushes his girlfriend around. He's not living life to the fullest in my mind's eye. He's annoying the shit out of me is what he's doing.
So i live life to what I feel is the fullest. When I finish a pint of ice cream or go to dinner with Melissa...life to the fullest. Shit just hanging out with Melissa is living life to the fullest. (Ok insert cheesy comment for saying that about my girlfriend. my response: Bite me, i don't give a shit.
Not really fully understanding where this fired up feeling is coming from right now. Maybe the hangover finally went away. But either way I'm babbling about nothing. Live life the freakin way you want to live it. Not everyone needs to be superstar. The world needs ditch diggers too Danny.
Now Mr. Live Life to the Fullest, what the hell have you done for someone else? Ya jerk off. I just read an article about getting out and experiencing life which is why I'm suddenly fired up.
Everyone lives their lives differently. I did my part now give me a pint of Ben & Jerry's, the spoon is optional. It annoys me the people who say these things and I probably said them too at one point. What does that make me? It too puts me in the category of Gym Class Hero. You know the guy. The dude who took gym class above and beyond the call of duty. My brother teaches phys ed to middle school students but he wasn't a gym class hero. He's a guy trying to make a difference in kid's health and futures.
The gym class here is the guy who dives for a ball in high school gym class. He's the same dude who gets fired up in a bar when drinking or pushes his girlfriend around. He's not living life to the fullest in my mind's eye. He's annoying the shit out of me is what he's doing.
So i live life to what I feel is the fullest. When I finish a pint of ice cream or go to dinner with Melissa...life to the fullest. Shit just hanging out with Melissa is living life to the fullest. (Ok insert cheesy comment for saying that about my girlfriend. my response: Bite me, i don't give a shit.
Not really fully understanding where this fired up feeling is coming from right now. Maybe the hangover finally went away. But either way I'm babbling about nothing. Live life the freakin way you want to live it. Not everyone needs to be superstar. The world needs ditch diggers too Danny.
Short Skirt & a Gust of Wind
You've probably heard the Bud Light "Real Men of Genius" Commericials but I want to create my own. If this one doesn't already exist well then I couldn't find it on the internet - "Mr. Short Loose Skirt Maker."
Over the past number of years of working in this city I have been fortunate enough to see some fun and interesting things. Today was no exception. Just leaving NikeTown I headed up towards 5th Avenue going to the deli near my office. As I was crossing the street a girl on her cellphone rudely cut in front of me which annoys the shit out of me. Learn to fucking walk and talk on your cell phone or do us all a favor and stand off to the side while you're on your phone. I've got places to be and shit to do...i don't need you cutting in front of me or lollygagging like so tourist. It bothers me. Besides not only do i dislike tourists, I hate HATE the cell phone. Useless piece of shit. :)
Ok now that I got that off my chest!
So rude girl cuts in front of me and the truck driver stopped at the light is whistling at her. At first I thought he was whistling at me because who knows what kind of weirdos are wandering this city. Shit I'm probably one of them.
(Ok focus here will ya!)
I look over at the girl who just cut me off and notice that she's wearing a short loose skirt. You know the kind I'm talking about, girls all over are wearing them. You see them all the time. Well she's walking in the same direction that I am headed so I guess I have to follow her. Which doesn't not constitute that I am being perverted because i have to go back to work.
I'm about 5 feet behind her now because thankfully she's off the damn phone and walking at a faster pace. She probably got off the phone because she knew what was going to happen next. Mother Nature must have been on my side during my lunch time stroll because just after the girl hung up the phone her skirt blew up. Two butt cheeks just hanging out of a few seconds. There is nothing wrong with noticing that. I mean I'm walking in that direction. I'm looking straight ahead and ZOOM up goes the skirt.
Now this isn't as great of a story as the one from 4 years ago when I was behind a girl whose skirt blew up. That time, and this was long before Melissa came into my life, i had positioned myself strategically. That would be considered perverted. This time I was walking my normal route to my office from my weekly Friday Afternoon stroll to NikeTown. Plus once I got to 6th ave I made a right to go to the deli.
That was my story. Nothing too crazy or wild. Just a skirt blowing up in the wind. It happens. But its also one of the contributing factors as to why I don't wear skirts. I mean I do have a butt like an onion. It just makes me cry.
Over the past number of years of working in this city I have been fortunate enough to see some fun and interesting things. Today was no exception. Just leaving NikeTown I headed up towards 5th Avenue going to the deli near my office. As I was crossing the street a girl on her cellphone rudely cut in front of me which annoys the shit out of me. Learn to fucking walk and talk on your cell phone or do us all a favor and stand off to the side while you're on your phone. I've got places to be and shit to do...i don't need you cutting in front of me or lollygagging like so tourist. It bothers me. Besides not only do i dislike tourists, I hate HATE the cell phone. Useless piece of shit. :)
Ok now that I got that off my chest!
So rude girl cuts in front of me and the truck driver stopped at the light is whistling at her. At first I thought he was whistling at me because who knows what kind of weirdos are wandering this city. Shit I'm probably one of them.
(Ok focus here will ya!)
I look over at the girl who just cut me off and notice that she's wearing a short loose skirt. You know the kind I'm talking about, girls all over are wearing them. You see them all the time. Well she's walking in the same direction that I am headed so I guess I have to follow her. Which doesn't not constitute that I am being perverted because i have to go back to work.
I'm about 5 feet behind her now because thankfully she's off the damn phone and walking at a faster pace. She probably got off the phone because she knew what was going to happen next. Mother Nature must have been on my side during my lunch time stroll because just after the girl hung up the phone her skirt blew up. Two butt cheeks just hanging out of a few seconds. There is nothing wrong with noticing that. I mean I'm walking in that direction. I'm looking straight ahead and ZOOM up goes the skirt.
Now this isn't as great of a story as the one from 4 years ago when I was behind a girl whose skirt blew up. That time, and this was long before Melissa came into my life, i had positioned myself strategically. That would be considered perverted. This time I was walking my normal route to my office from my weekly Friday Afternoon stroll to NikeTown. Plus once I got to 6th ave I made a right to go to the deli.
That was my story. Nothing too crazy or wild. Just a skirt blowing up in the wind. It happens. But its also one of the contributing factors as to why I don't wear skirts. I mean I do have a butt like an onion. It just makes me cry.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Boring Industry Event
Tonight I had an industry event. Nothing to write home about...believe me! I saw a few people who I thought I was friends with who are sales people who I bought from in my earlier days. But there were the four or five who I was actually friendly with. People who were truly interested with my life and remember little details without being promoted by salesforce or some other database. Those are the ones who I still make an attempt to keep in touch with.
But like I said...nothing to write home about. Oh well except that I finally got to hang out with Melissa for 3 hours. She was in Chicago. Yeah I know I'm being gay but its nice to see her. that's all for now!
dc OUT
p.s. drunk.
But like I said...nothing to write home about. Oh well except that I finally got to hang out with Melissa for 3 hours. She was in Chicago. Yeah I know I'm being gay but its nice to see her. that's all for now!
dc OUT
p.s. drunk.
Sweating Like a Fat Kid at a Buffet!
If you know me, you know I sweat. Seriously. Why I am sharing this? Because there's a story behind this that has caused my pits to wet my shirt and I haven't done one damn strenuous thing today! But here's the background first. I am very self conscious of the sweating. I keep an extra stick of deodorant in my desk drawer along with another extra stick in my bag for work. Plus I've started carrying Axe Body Spray. Just because I can't control the sweat doesn't mean that I can allow myself to smell as well.
The odd thing is that when I talk to people they find it necessary to stare at my armpits. I'm probably not even sweating when they start staring but once I realize that they are something happens. My brain sends a message to my pits that is probably something along these lines "Make the fat bastard start sweating...Release the Hounds!" Then wham! sweat! shirt stuck to my pits. I've been able to find ways to cover it up. Extra shirts. Not leaving my desk. but now i'm runing out of ways to hide. So here is where this point less babble comes from.
This morning I got on the elevator in my building to go up to my office. The elevator was packed at 9 am. Standing with my back to the side wall, two girls got on across from me. I could see them looking at me giggling. Shit! Am I sweating!? Wait who isn't sweating its 90 degrees outside right now. Then I thought it was because my iPod was blasting Pink Floyd so early in the morning.
The elevator stops at the 8th floor. The girls along with everyone else get out of the elevator. As soon as those doors close, I lift my arms to check. Small little spots of sweat but nothing noticeable. But since that moment this morning, sweat. It doesn't help that i'm wearing a lavendar shirt. Yes i just said lavendar! That's what it said on the tag that I took off of it this morning.
Now I have to go to a work function where I'll be sitting on a boat cruising around the Hudson River with potential clients. Sweaty pits and 42 pounds of deodorant. Well at least I won't smell...or so I think.
The odd thing is that when I talk to people they find it necessary to stare at my armpits. I'm probably not even sweating when they start staring but once I realize that they are something happens. My brain sends a message to my pits that is probably something along these lines "Make the fat bastard start sweating...Release the Hounds!" Then wham! sweat! shirt stuck to my pits. I've been able to find ways to cover it up. Extra shirts. Not leaving my desk. but now i'm runing out of ways to hide. So here is where this point less babble comes from.
This morning I got on the elevator in my building to go up to my office. The elevator was packed at 9 am. Standing with my back to the side wall, two girls got on across from me. I could see them looking at me giggling. Shit! Am I sweating!? Wait who isn't sweating its 90 degrees outside right now. Then I thought it was because my iPod was blasting Pink Floyd so early in the morning.
The elevator stops at the 8th floor. The girls along with everyone else get out of the elevator. As soon as those doors close, I lift my arms to check. Small little spots of sweat but nothing noticeable. But since that moment this morning, sweat. It doesn't help that i'm wearing a lavendar shirt. Yes i just said lavendar! That's what it said on the tag that I took off of it this morning.
Now I have to go to a work function where I'll be sitting on a boat cruising around the Hudson River with potential clients. Sweaty pits and 42 pounds of deodorant. Well at least I won't smell...or so I think.
Fake Homeless Guy
Ok this could get me in trouble with the people who try to help the homeless but hey its my opinion (as if 42 million people worldwide are reading this cheesy blog). There's a homeless guy who parks himself on the street about 20 feet up from my office. He's infront of an old shop that has closed down so now no one is going to give him a hard time about sitting there.
The guy sits there with his dog and tries to talk to every person walking by. He's not your typical, former mental hospital patient who you hear about on the news. This guy at one point had a job and grew up in a home. But something went wrong at some point in his life. Maybe he lost his job or got injured to the point where he can no longer work. So his job is sitting on West 57th street solicating money and food from people.
When I first started working here I felt bad for the guy. I was willing to give him a few dollars and one day I actually gave him the last dollar I had in my pocket. But two days later as a girl in tight pants walked by he called out to her about having her sit with him. Not the worst thing I've heard a homeless person say. Until he blurted out that he wanted a blow job. That's when someone else walking by said something to him about.
Monday morning I was in Duane Reed when i see the homeless guy buying a big thing of post board and a magic marker. His shirt looked clean, he was clean shaven and he had a wad of cash in his pocket that he took out to pay for the supplies with. He saw me. He knew that I knew who he was. He's a fake. Now maybe he's not really a fake. Maybe he is homeless and living on the street. But he still had a wad of money in his pocket.
Today the cardboard is resting next to his shopping cart with the words "Shalom Hungry Jew". On the ground infront of him, a sign that says "House Painter (Exterior) Have a Driver's License." Both of these signs are very well written, well written being with neat penmanship. But here's the next thing I noticed (I walked past him a few times today), it was a sign that said "Chinese Food Please!" WHAT! He's putting in requests for food! Are you shitting me!? Even if I had leftovers from a chinese place I'm not giving it to this guy. I'll buy you a bagel and a coffee in the winter or a bagel in the summer. But to make a request like that you're f-ing nuts man!
So I've vowed to not give this guy shit because I think he's a fake. Plus I have now changed the route I walk to get food because I can't stand listening to the rude shit he says to people. And i'm generally nice to homeless people. I give money when I can. But that's besides the point.
The guy sits there with his dog and tries to talk to every person walking by. He's not your typical, former mental hospital patient who you hear about on the news. This guy at one point had a job and grew up in a home. But something went wrong at some point in his life. Maybe he lost his job or got injured to the point where he can no longer work. So his job is sitting on West 57th street solicating money and food from people.
When I first started working here I felt bad for the guy. I was willing to give him a few dollars and one day I actually gave him the last dollar I had in my pocket. But two days later as a girl in tight pants walked by he called out to her about having her sit with him. Not the worst thing I've heard a homeless person say. Until he blurted out that he wanted a blow job. That's when someone else walking by said something to him about.
Monday morning I was in Duane Reed when i see the homeless guy buying a big thing of post board and a magic marker. His shirt looked clean, he was clean shaven and he had a wad of cash in his pocket that he took out to pay for the supplies with. He saw me. He knew that I knew who he was. He's a fake. Now maybe he's not really a fake. Maybe he is homeless and living on the street. But he still had a wad of money in his pocket.
Today the cardboard is resting next to his shopping cart with the words "Shalom Hungry Jew". On the ground infront of him, a sign that says "House Painter (Exterior) Have a Driver's License." Both of these signs are very well written, well written being with neat penmanship. But here's the next thing I noticed (I walked past him a few times today), it was a sign that said "Chinese Food Please!" WHAT! He's putting in requests for food! Are you shitting me!? Even if I had leftovers from a chinese place I'm not giving it to this guy. I'll buy you a bagel and a coffee in the winter or a bagel in the summer. But to make a request like that you're f-ing nuts man!
So I've vowed to not give this guy shit because I think he's a fake. Plus I have now changed the route I walk to get food because I can't stand listening to the rude shit he says to people. And i'm generally nice to homeless people. I give money when I can. But that's besides the point.
Just Getting Started
On Sunday July 24th I sat by the pool flipping through the NY Times when I came across the Sunday Styles section. By "came across the Sunday Styles section" I mean was trying to get to the sports section, because everyone knows how fantastic the sports coverage is by the NY Times. For the most part its just crap surrounded by the NYTimes masthead but then there are the times where they break stories like Maurice Clarett getting snagged for cheating his way through school. ANYWAY.
On the front page of the Sunday Styles was an article about Stephanie Kline's blog and not to go into too much detail, I read it, enjoyed it and on monday checked her site out. Its a good site and proves the power of the internet. Her site probably went from lets just say 10,000 visitors daily to 20 - 25,000 visitors per day. So I thought to myself, "i could do this. I could spare time in my busy day to post snippets of things that i see or hear."
My typical writings consist of emails to clients or "news stories" for my fantasy baseball and football leagues. These news stories usually consist of the random things I see every day while walking through NYC. For example, about 3 years ago I was walking up the subway steps when a gust of wind whipped through the station and blew a girls skirt up right in front on me. That was probably one of my best written stories to date. I received a lot of good remarks and feedback from my buddies.
So this is where I find myself today. Attempting my first blog. Who knows it could be a failure or I could just completely lose interest. But why not give it a try and see what I can do. I'll do my best to not write anything that is too perverted...especially when you consider my girlfriend will probably read this blog and not be happy. But yet I'll do my best to keep my friends entertained. That's the least I could do.
Plus who knows, this might not be the smartest business move I could make. Then again I could turn out to be the smartest business move I make. Only time will tell. Hope you enjoy it.
On the front page of the Sunday Styles was an article about Stephanie Kline's blog and not to go into too much detail, I read it, enjoyed it and on monday checked her site out. Its a good site and proves the power of the internet. Her site probably went from lets just say 10,000 visitors daily to 20 - 25,000 visitors per day. So I thought to myself, "i could do this. I could spare time in my busy day to post snippets of things that i see or hear."
My typical writings consist of emails to clients or "news stories" for my fantasy baseball and football leagues. These news stories usually consist of the random things I see every day while walking through NYC. For example, about 3 years ago I was walking up the subway steps when a gust of wind whipped through the station and blew a girls skirt up right in front on me. That was probably one of my best written stories to date. I received a lot of good remarks and feedback from my buddies.
So this is where I find myself today. Attempting my first blog. Who knows it could be a failure or I could just completely lose interest. But why not give it a try and see what I can do. I'll do my best to not write anything that is too perverted...especially when you consider my girlfriend will probably read this blog and not be happy. But yet I'll do my best to keep my friends entertained. That's the least I could do.
Plus who knows, this might not be the smartest business move I could make. Then again I could turn out to be the smartest business move I make. Only time will tell. Hope you enjoy it.
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