Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Energy Wiser

So my stat counter is pretty fuckin' cool. I can see who visitied the site and from what country. It looks like my friend Stuffa has been visiting with some regularity. She's so awesome. I hope she comes back to America. Well I better get my day started. I finally did laundry. Good god. The dude crashin' at my place is gonna stay until the 15th, and really he needs to split. Like he needs to get his shit together and make moves. It's officially spring, and it's officially snowing. Fucking cocksuckin' weather. Gimme a break!

The new gig is going well. I was out in the Bronx yesterday. Middleschoolers are so cute. I left these massive floor plans out there though. I need to get in contact with Eddy or Cara about bringing those to me at the next staff meeting. I need to act quick on that. I had a vision. I got lazy and left them in the middle of the street, and then I re-found them...and then left them in the Bronx. Fuck that. I need to get them back.

Ooh, there is this Indian vegetarian place called Dimple. They have something called the samosa sandwich. Christ on the cross is it good or what! I've got vino at home. Hmmm...vino. I got to listen to a bit of Moorish Orthodox Radio on WBAI. I like that show. Dudener is so cantakerous.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

Fucking Friendster Fucking williamsburg

Who the fuck goes shopping in the middle of a snow storm. Christ what a bunch of insufferable cunts. En plus, I think Friendster deleted my account, because I didn't send 20 people some shit. If you're on Friendster you know of what I speak.

Oh yeah...I was suppose to be doing something completely different right now....

Here's something I'm working on....not that anyone visits ...*sniff*

The ravenous New York night draws you in like so much smoke traveling down the throat and into the lungs. Sometimes the night is acrid and sour with half nothings and empty reflection. Other nights are a sweet poisonous indulgence. It’s on those nights that streets gleam with their own garish invitation to dip in to the sea of possibility.

But tonight I wanted to disappear. I had spent the last month trying to shine my light on yet another stunning unavailable soul, but much to my chagrin there was no soul to speak of.
There was something blinding about this woman. The first time I really got a full on look at her, my mind squinted and blinked back at the brightness. I was convinced that Stella was going to be my first real love thrill in this town. She was mine. Whenever I saw her out, her presence was a homing beacon for my most guttural and sublime lust. Those few times our eyes met or I got a whiff of her perfume, I could feel it all. I was astrally projecting into our love making in some other version of the universe. That first wet, velvet, tentative but hungry kiss. I could feel the shape of her teardrop breasts against my back – the tangle of our legs. I could feel it all. And yet. And yet she hid behind her beauty. Every time I had managed to speak to her, I was always worse than drunk. I was a sex starved romantic drunk.

I learned very quickly that she was not a fan of, and kind of creeped out by phrases like:

“Let’s go tongue in the bathroom like dogs.”

“Are you in love?”

“I don’t give a fuck about anybody else here, you’re the one I want.”

After our first few close encounters, I saw at least once a month. The next time I saw her was on a Saturday night, I asked her if I was barking up the wrong tree. Bad timing, she said. Besides, she was involved. 2nd fiddle to a Yeti – I’ll be damned.

Duly noted, right? My bad.

I see her again that next Sunday. It’s Halloween. I was supposed to be dressed as the lost member of P Funk, but I was feeling like a jerk. I could just feel it in the air, I knew I was going to see Stella that night. Knowing all the while that she would be with the Yeti.

All night I kept looking over my shoulder. My stomach was in knots. I wanted to see her face so badly, but at the same time I wanted to break something. I didn’t want any surprises. I wanted to see her first.

Finally, the whisky started doing its job. I was feeling loose. I go to the bathroom, and then it happens.

This time, just as I was finishing up, I started cackling at this fucked up ad in the bathroom stall. It said that cat urine glowed in the dark. Thinking that I was parlaying with anyone but Stella and the Yeti, I asked aloud if they were aware of that fact. The Yeti grumbled something about weirdos in the bathroom. You can imagine our mutual dismay at seeing one another as we exited our respective stalls. This is the kind of shit that only happens to dykes and gay dudes. Gynormous tension. Disproportionately tiny bathroom. But before that wretched little moment – Stella and I had another little moment. She was primping in the mirror, and I was coming out of the right stall at the right time. Our eyes met in the mirror. Like I said I could feel it all. She was surprised. Kind of thrilled like I was a guilty pleasure. Not a moment later Stella’s lover came out of the next stall and saw that it was me talkin’ all the shit.

“Oh it’s you.”

The smug bitch.

I stole a quick glance at Stella, and said “Yeah, it’s me and here’s where I make my graceful exit.”

Now I really wanted to break something.

Ignoring and being ignored, yet unutterably aware of one another’s presence.

Finally, mercifully, she left. I ran.

I ran, but I couldn’t get away from that night. I couldn’t get away from myself. I stopped running, out of breath, and feeling incredibly ridiculous.

Eventually I end up in the Meat Packing District. I may have made a ruination of those last few hours, but all would be forgiven once the discreet doors of Apt. closed behind me…or not. Apt. was charging a cover and had a guest list. Those motherfucks.

So there I was cold, drunk, and drug free. All I had left was my subway card, a bag of tobacco, and a book of matches. I was tired of walking; aching inside and out I sat on a bus bench. I was a crumpled heap of sadness. Stella was perfect physically, but tonight she proved that she had no soul. Sitting there on that bus bench amplified all the loneliness and bewilderment in me so much that I spontaneously burst into a fit of whimpering and tears. Soul or no soul, I still didn’t know what love meant.

While my mind was wandering through the killings fields of that night, I look up to see this striking woman in a magenta chick Caesar style wig and frumpy overcoat walking toward me. It’s 3:30 in the morning and she wants a smoke.

After I hooked her up with the smoke, she introduced herself. Her name was Livia. She was a 30 year old Italian actress, and she had just split from Apt. She sensed that I was in the depths of something sad and raw, and sincerely went about restoring some beauty back to that night. I confessed my whole night to her. We eventually get to the crux of things, love and existence. Easily the most candid and amazing conversation I’ve ever had. But what made our time together so crushingly beautiful was its humanity. Our hug goodnight was platonic lovemaking. She was a life line and a marker of time.

We are all alone. There is no escaping that truth. You are your own soul mate. Give all the love you possess to yourself, she told me. I’ve never seen Livia again.

Proto Prince

I can't believe it's snowing again. Yesterday was totally lovely and spring like. I wake up this morning to cock chuggin' snow. I am so ready for winter to be over.

So gender is a social construct. Example:

A baby boy is sitting with his pops on the train. Little dude starts to whimper and pulls at his dad's shirt. Little dude was hungry, and didn't make a distinction between man and woman. Somebody's got a booby and he wants it. His pops was like "I don't have any leche, papi."
That was pretty cool, cute, and profound. Right on little dude.

I've been diggin' Thin Lizzy lately. He's proto-prince.

This magazine thing is driving me kind of crazy. Like should I break down and get a domain eventhough I have no clue what the fuck to do after that?? En plus, creating an infrastructure is hard. I'm gonna go hunt down some fonts right now.

Friday, March 04, 2005

It's Payday and I'm still broke as a motherfuckers....

Paydays at this gig are piss poor. Talk about feast or fuckin' famine. My god! Well I finally figured out what the hell was wrong with my phone. Something about a sim card that was too hardcore for my little phone. Finally, Cingular is sending me a replacement. Those motherfuckers gave me the most intense run around ever. I don't think...uh I forgot what I was thinking about. I'm handing out checks right now....I told the Fed Ex dude he has to make a beeline here on paydays or all hell breaks loose. My celly just dropped another damn call.

I've got like a post period headache...i'm gonna go...besides I have to start my stupid work day. damn.

Game On

this is an audio post - click to play

Thursday, March 03, 2005

You Know I Believe in How

Woo Woo! Nothing like gay European smut to get the day rollin'. I'm still fucking around with this uploading photos shit. Damn blogger...start actin' right! Speakin of actin' right...So I was on my way to work the other day, and this homeless dude was in the middle of the sidewalk screaming his guts out.

"Y'all ain't actin' right! Not a damn one of yous cain't gimme a dollar!? I'm a fuck around an' knock somebody out!"

I just burst into a fit of laughter. I'm not sure if that was the appropriate response to a crazy person being crazy in public, but it was so fuckin' funny. Like the honesty could not be denied. I loved it. I should take that attitude about most things.

Wednesday, March 02, 2005


I should make this quick there is no one on the floor. So I've been trying to upload photos to this piece to no avail. Damn the man. I finally got a hold of the Sour Diesel strain of budinski. I got the gig at the non-profit. I'm stoked. I just gotta knock em cold and score a full time gig. I should start prepping for closing time. In a sec..jesus. So I bought 50 frozen pork dumplings for 8 bucks. Woo Woo. Long live Chinatown. I have got to start using my Holga more. I love the photos that they take. I also need a bank account. First things first.

God, I hope I don't die from under boiling the pork dumplings.

Over all I'm feelin' good about life these days. There haven't been any dark days in a while.

I wanna throw a party on the 18th but I don't think it's gonna happen. The way I thrwo parties is expensive. I just feel like it's bogus to charge your friends to party at your house.

Tuesday, March 01, 2005


Thank christ! One can finally add comments to my blog. Let's see what you people have to say on the subject of Verushka.

So this dude is crashing at my place, and I'm ready for him to split. I really dig my solitude. Speaking of solitude, I just scored to cats! They are wonderful. They even lay down when I tell em to. Well sometimes. I had to go all the way up to 190th St. in Manhattan. Talk about the goddamn hinterlands of this island. The cats were none to please with the trek. They shit all over their goddamn carrier. But as soon as they saw my place, you could tell they were totally stoked.

Life's been good lately. I might become a college counselor at a non-profit. It's part time, but it'll get me that much further away from AA. I feel like I'm working in the belly of a dying beast. That can't be good for morale.

I've been hitting up Coney Island Av quite a bit. Bollywood movies are fantastique. As is 24 hour Pakistani greasespoons. That's what you call grubby but thoroughly delicious food spots, right??

Relish in Williamsburg is a must for weekend brunch!