Category Archives: WTF

Addicted

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Well today I came to the realization that I am addicted to the Internets. I do spend a lot of time online and sometimes find myself away from the computer thinking about what is going on, online. Today was no exception.

Now I am a member of a few Yahoo groups, one of them pertains to big men. Big muscle men. A stereotype I know, but it works for me.

So the other day I get a posting in my email with some pictures of a certain body builder, really phenomenal. Who cares if he can barely complete a sentence. Maybe he can, I don’t know. Stereotyping again.

Anyhow, I was smitten. Plain and simple. Enough so that I replied to the whole group like most everyone does, and I used one word, ‘DAMN’. What guys say or think when they see a hot guy or girl, DAYUM. He was hot or hawt.

This wanker in the UK, some older flabby geezer took offense to my one word comment and decided to speak on behalf of all those who could give a shit. But me, being me of course kept taking the bait this fallen Mr. Clean looking type put out there.

It escalated this afternoon to the point where I just had to leave the apartment, he was potentially ruining my day. I did feel bad for this geezer, such a lonely chap living by Heathrow.

I’m sure the planes taking off and coming in would have an effect on this misbegotten son of a slug and he decided to go after me. With horrible spelling at that.

He was trashy and offensive enough that I felt compelled to head into the city and seek refuge by the skate circle. I took the Path train in and walked to Grand Central Station, then the train up to 68th Street/Hunter College.

It is the last Sunday of the summer.

I walked over to the park, tons of tourists. I enjoyed another cigar that Bill gave me and sat on top of Bear Hill overlooking the skaters. This UK arsehole got under my skin enough that it took a while to relax and chill out to the music.

It was a beautiful day though, people with dogs socializing with other people with dogs, some baby wrangling going on. A woman with her baby was trying to position her toddler so the photographer could take the picture with a Wish You Were Here/Happy Birthday balloon just so.

The DJ was really cookin’ when they stopped things so they can eulogize someone who was no longer with them. Apparently he passed away during the week. It went on and on enough to make me realize that I was hungry.

Hungry enough to head home.

Walked through midtown, chatted with Planet Bernadette calling from the ledge. I followed Bill’s advice and avoided the bus terminal. Sunday evening the Lincoln Tunnel is packed with people coming back from wherever it is that they were.

I got myself a seat and regretted not having something to read. All I had was the New Yorker and I had read it already. Still, it’s good to be home, UK wanker geezer has been marked as spam so I won’t be hearing from it anymore.

9.20.09 Nyc 004

9.20.09 Nyc 003

Leaving on a Jet Plane

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And here we are at Friday. So far it’s been a busy day. Running around here and there. Saw Bill off this morning. He was off to Elmira NY to play keyboards at some church function and also see a friend he hasn’t seen in years, Jennifer. I met the two women driving him, nice people.

I heard from Casey Chasm yesterday, Mrs. Chasm was due yesterday so today I asked how things went and they were inducing labor today. I’m sure all will be well with them.

Besides quite a few unemployed people wandering around. So I have the apartment to myself tonight. What to do? I did laundry today, returned Close Encounters to the library this morning. Read the papers.

Not much going on in Hoboken or so I thought. Just read about someone who was brandishing weapons on Garden Street, right around the block from where I am. On my travels I saw some sort of commotion. I

figured they were chopping down trees like they’ve been doing around Hoboken lately. But apparently a senior citizen with a gun and a grenade was running around. Inside the senior’s house there was a stockpile of guns and grenades.

The bomb squad has been called in from Jersey City to investigate 632 Garden Street. 20 guns have been found. It all started this morning and the investigation continues at this hour. Oh Hoboken, so much to answer for.

That’s about the high point of the day.

Bill just phoned from Jennifer’s car. They were out looking for a steakhouse where they can eat and catch up on the last 20 years. I

took the air conditioner out from the window yesterday. Didn’t use it that much this summer. Only had it in the window for about a month. Life on the 5th floor brings a nice breeze provided all the windows are open for circulation.

There was talk of a Karaoke night earlier this week but haven’t heard much about it since. I asked around and got some links which I distributed to Rand, Lois & Bill but haven’t heard from anyone about it. The date was next Saturday so maybe there is still time. Or maybe not.

Tonight is Blow Off at the Highline Ballroom again and I will definitely not be attending that again. Juan’s working and Bill’s out of town and I sure as hell ain’t going there solo. Turns out I don’t like club music so much.

And to tell you the truth I never really cared much for Husker Du. Sacrilege? Perhaps. The Minutemen were so much better and easier to talk to rather than grumpy old Bob Mould.

I did like Husker Du’s cover of the Byrds Eight Miles High and that was sung by Grant Hart, the drummer.

Bob Mould did have a really nice boyfriend. I forget his name and don’t know if they’re still together. He is friends with a few of my friends so if I ever cross paths with him again I guess I will have to play nice.

RIP Mary Travers