Man I've felt shitty this week. I think I got a bad breakfast sandwich or something at Golden on Monday -- I've had the fire-squirts ever since. Now let me tell you all of the fascinating things that happened to me:
I had made an appointment to see a dermatologist because fucking Christ and everyone is always telling me to get all these awful things that are growing on me checked out. So Monday was when my appointment was, so I walked over to Beth Israel on 14th St. at lunchtime. I'd never been there. It's really nice! You should go the next time you have an ambulatory disability or are dying of cancer. I liked my doctor well enough. He was very direct -- as soon as I took my shirt off, he saw the dry skin on the backs of my arms and was like, "Just so you know, that's blah-blah-blah. You'll never get rid of that, but you can put moisturizer on it if you like." He didn't think any of the moles on my chest were significant, but when I went to show him the one under my scrote, he said, "Woah, that's a wart." I'm like, "A wart? No way, I've had that since I was 7. It's a mole." He was like, "I'm pretty sure it's a wart. I'm going to shave it off." Why not, right? So he gave me a little shot and just... shaved it off, I guess -- I didn't really see, but I could feel him picking at it, which was a little weird. He also had to cauterize it. "It won't stop bleeding!" he said. The thing he used to cauterize it looked like a water pic, but apparently it squirted fire because all this smoke was floating up from my taint. I didn't feel any of it. Anyway, so now I've got this little star-shaped scar down there, and it still kind of hurts, but not very much at all. Don't get any ideas, by the way -- I don't have goddamn genital warts or something. This is the wart that you get when you are a little kid and have a wart on your hand and you play with your fucking dick all the time.
That night, when I was walking home from the subway, I thought I'd stop at the Golden Deli for some cider for Mer. They didn't have any, but what they did have was a big fucking fight between Alex and some guy who maybe works one of the night shifts there. Alex was like, "You come into my shop and say that to me? You want to hit me? Go ahead, hit me! I'll fucking kill you, motherfucker!" And the guy he was yelling at was saying to Alex's wife, "Your husband is very stupid. He is drunk. You see how stupid?" At first they were yelling at each other over by the gambling video game that doesn't give you any money, but then Alex started chasing the guy around the store while his wife tried to hold him back by his undershirt. He was like some kind of Bangladeshi Stanley Kowalski
Okay, so I saw this Matrix: Revolutions movie, and guess what -- I didn't hate it that bad. I mean, look, the cache of these movies is founded on the premise that you think the idea, "What if what I think is real isn't, like, real," is really groundbreaking. Come on -- I was already over that one before I even knew what a matrix was. There's even some proof that I read in Ethics about how it doesn't really matter whether the world actually exists the way you perceive it or not. My point is, if you are really disappointed about these movies, you are an idiot. But there are some pretty incredible images in this one, like horrifying clouds of those squiddy terrors just coming right at you like your worst Captain Eo nightmare. These guys know art direction. Oh yeah, and Hermione dies. Sorry, kids.
Links, links. Fuck, I can't remember now. Try this and this and, uh... this. My e-mail tried to send me that last one.
Oh yeah, and if you think my blog is racist, consider this: I am watching some PBS special about Muslim preacher-singers and there is some Arab guy wailing like a baby that came out of a hyena mating with a toucan while about a billion guys in white robes twitch and bow like the worst kind of retard, and I'm lovin' it. Just keep them the hell away from me and my kids.
Good thing Christianity is so dignified.
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