Sunday, October 19, 2003

The Daily News

The last time I sat down to write a post, I wanted to tell the Interweb how I was praying for the death of this guy who runs the American Family Research Council or whatever. I mean, what an awful organization -- they deserve nothing short of obliteration. But then I started thinking about how I kind of get all wrapped up in hating this stuff and it's not very good for me. Don't get me wrong, I'm still hoping these guys and everyone like them take the big dirt nap right fucking now, neatly demonstrating the irony of their positions -- if only their consciousness existed to realize it -- but I guess it's sort of a waste of time to talk and write about it, and it's bad for my emotional health.

Mer and I went to the Beacon Theater on 74th on Saturday night for the Comedy Central Live tour, featuring Dave Attell and Lewis Black. Of course, we were really there to see Mitch Hedberg, but it turned out that Lewis Black ain't half bad. I mean, I don't have cable or anything, so I don't watch comedy all day long like some of you, so he was sort of a surprise for me. Dave Attell is 100% not funny, though. He is just deadly. He is like the "funny guy" for every bunch of asshole friends out there, and you could tell because the audience was packed with assholes. Mitch was pretty good, except that the sound was way too loud, 'cause the opening guy was too quiet, and he was holding the mic way too close to his mouth. He was doing this line about how he knew he was going to be a stand-up comic because he's real good at holding an ice-cream cone, but apparently he doesn't really know how to do that at all. That's okay, though. A bunch of people in the audience were yelling at him to get off the stage, and he was sort of responding in a funny way. I couldn't tell whether they were fans or not; I'd like to think that they were.

After the show, Mer was trying to find a pot to piss in, and all of a sudden I ran into Kim and this guy Brian from high school -- they'd gone to see the show together. Kim was real intent on having me return this phone call she'd made to me like a month ago. I mean, I don't really have anything to say to her. She's fucking awful. Brian is nice enough, I guess, but he's kind of a stoner jerk-off who's gotta say everything in this real low, terse voice. I couldn't remember his name, so I just referred to him as "guy" -- Billy and I used to joke that he looked like his name might be "Jesse," and that's all I could think of until Mer pointedly introduced herself. Maybe they were on a date. I bet he's just her type. That's always weird, when you find out that your friends just have these weird, inexplicable sexual tastes that they'd never reveal to you explicitly.

I played some whiffle-ball with the Degraw ladies today in Prospect Park. It was only seven of us, so we played it like there were 7 teams, each with one batter and a bunch of "ghost runners." I got 1 point, which puts me in third place -- Tom, infuratingly, got 6 points, and Devin, little power-house that he is, got 2. And I fucking beat Ted in a push-up contest; first thing like that I've ever won. And I am mad sore, son.

Before we went to the park, we "ate a feast" at the local Mickey D's. Man that place is awful. The more hospital-like and efficient it is, the more "Fear and Loathing" it feels. Just all these overweight little kids packin' they faces with fat shit. I got the two-cheeseburgers meal, but I gave one of the things to Devin and I couldn't even finish my fried. The really creepy thing is how they don't even try to advertise to white people any more.

Coming home from Tom's place on my bike, I saw this guy with a fat little bulldog-like dog, which was sort of snuffling around the base of this tree. The guy must have seen me looking at his dog, because he said, "Yeah. He's gonna be sick." And then, true enough, the dog pukes up some greenish gunk. For dinner, I made 'tato quesadillas. Yeah, it's my specialty, and yeah, it's awesome. The cat's ass is pretty much clean enough now to sleep on the bed with us.

For Tom:

(21:17:20) Nintendo Julian: tell me, sir
(21:17:25) Nintendo Julian: do you *ever* read my web-log?
(21:20:14) TEWogglebug:Yeah. But usually when you tell me to.
(21:20:26) Nintendo Julian: I want you guys to read my web-log ALL THE TIME
(21:20:33) Nintendo Julian: and I want you guys to have web-logs
(21:20:36) TEWogglebug: Well, say that in the web-log.

I'm sayin' it -- now do it.

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