Monthly Archives: March 2006

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Ok. Buzzing in a nice way. Bill went to bed after a two and a half hour visit from my dear brother, Frank. It was nice. The way we riff back and forth is amazing and rapid fire. So much so we shut Bill out unfortunately. I think of all the people I know, Rand is probably the one who can get most, if not all, of the pop culture references. And with me sitting next to the computer, fact finding is so much more easier.

Solves disagreements fast. And with Frank and myself, disagreements or challenges about trivial matters usually occur. We talked through just about everything Bill was watching. We tried, but something would set off a riff and there was no stopping it then.

It was a welcome relief from the horrors of today. That and some jazz cigarettes and some Absolut can’t help but think I jinxed what could have been the Persian Bitch’s last day by writing about it. I am near the end of my tether. The Persian Bitch has the Wanker Banker powers that be in fear of being sued. They have email records of her planning on suing the company dating back to Septemeber 2005, only a week or so after she started.

But she is claiming to be harassed and subject to threats from me. It’s perverse and not in a good way. I had a better day at work yesterday than I did today and I was hung over as fuck yesterday. I was fed up and left work at 3:00. Wandered to the Path train in the cold, finding solace in a Padron cigar.

Jeez I mention Padrons so much they should pay me for publicity. I’m sure the six people who read this are as avid as I am for cigars.

Getting home a few hours earlier than usual enabled me to clean up the apartment somewhat in preparation for Frank’s arrival. Throwing out papers, filing papers, turning over the futon for maximum comfort and also because we should have done it ages ago. It was much easier to do when Bill came home earlier than usual

We succeeded and had some dinner while waiting for the perpetually late Frank. I have to admit when he called me telling me he wasn’t coming over since he was too tired. He made the call outside the apartment building from the cell phone he never uses. He got me good.

Like I said it was good to have him over. Having a good time, lot’s of laughs and in jokes which inadvertently shut Bill out. Elaine gets shut out I’m sure when we riff just like Rex would if I riff with Annemarie or Karen would if I riffed with Brian. Oh the poor spouses of my clan.

Bill was enraptured with the TV anyway, so we were just white noise, probably both literally and figuratively. We watched Bill Maher and Frank slinked off when it ended after a final riff in the hallway.

Bill is in bed, and I am soon to join him.

Sucka Nigga

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Tired. Long day. Blurry hangover from one too many beers and not enough food. Will I ever learn? Probably not. Not when ‘fun’ is involved. Of course, I didn’t sleep very well. Waking up on every hour on the hour. Out of boredom I woke up at 6, not 6:15. It really was a difference. I was so ahead of time I didn’t know what to do. I had two suits and five shirts and a tie to drop off at the dry cleaners.

I also had some trash and some recycling. I must have looked a sight climbing down the four flights carrying clothes, garbage and empty beer bottles. Thankfully the paparazzi ignored me choosing to camp outside an apartment on the third. Somehow the garbage can wound up three doors down the street. Strike One.

Go to the dry cleaners, throwing the heap of clothes on the counter, telling the nice man behind the counter, one tie, two suits five shirts. Then I noticed I was missing a pair of trousers. Not good. I ran out of the store looking to see if the errant pair of pants lay on the sidewalk. Nope. Hopefully I didn’t put them in the trash, maybe I left them in the apartment.

I didn’t have time to run back up four flights of stairs to check. Strike two. Make it up to Washington St. As I cross against the light standing on the double line the bus pulls up. I make it to the side of the bus as it starts pulling away and I’m banging the side yelling for the driver to stop. He does and I pay my fare and stumble towards the seat. Two stops later the seat in front of me gets occupied with the occupier deciding to recline into my knees. Strike three.

Make it work, needing food badly. It promised to be busy and I needed to eat. Got an egg sandwich at the deli next to work. Took forever to get it and I proceeded to meltdown. It definitely helped having something to eat. The temp arrived. Nice guy. Matt. Sings in a Cabaret show at Don’t Tell Mama. Twenty something looking like Elliot from E.T. and I mean that as a compliment.

Somehow I got through the day, eating whenever I can. And keeping hydrated. I was busy running around and showing Matt the ropes. He was a quick learner and I trusted in him correctly to carry his load. And he did so admirably. I told him I was going to try to see his show at Don’t Tell Mama.

I did tell Jamie about Matt’s upcoming show and she said she’d try to make it with me. Should be fun. She told me they had the goods on the Persian Bitch and soon the ax will fall. I told her I’d believe it when I see it. Tomorrow may be the day that bitch will be out of my fucking life forever. That would be soooooo sweet.

Would be nice if we got rid of Humpty Debbie, but sometimes you have to take the good with the big fat bad.

My appreciation for Pop Art continues…