April 8th, 2007


The Cats Are Fucking On Halsey Street

I tried out this intro earlier this weekend, but it didn't take. Let's see if I can try it again.


I wish I had this one brutally rape-tastic season where I was in heat and was allowed to fuck any female of my species, whether moving or otherwise incapacitated under the weight of my girth.

And, having said that, I hereby segue - without one iota of personal awkwardness - into my Friday off of work that I spent with Kelsey and Julie Chen on the mean streets of New York City.

But first, seriously, the cats are FUCKING on Halsey Street! Have you ever heard a cat getting seriously reamed seemingly against their will and without one sexual ounce of joy? If I didn't harbor this extreme indifference towards the existence of cats, I'd feel sorry for those little buggers on the apparently-painful receiving end (either that, or their cries of ecstacy sound eerily similar to a thick-dicked rapist giving the ol' high hard one to somebody's grandma).

I'm sorry, cats in heat, raping grandmothers ... I've got a cockfight to focus on.

Anyway, back to the Friday. Kelsey's in town visiting Julie, so I said I'd take the ol' day off to hang out. As it turns out, I'm in some sick minority of people over here who actually have to WORK on Good Friday. What kind of bullshit is that? Granted, never in my life have I ever heard of getting the Friday before Easter off, but now that I know it exists over here on the East Coast, I WANT IT!!! Anyway, I forsook somewhere around $90 in pay for the occasion, but I still feel it was worth it. Hell, I'll forsake $90 to go get a lobotomy if it means I get a Three Day Weekend. And yeah, hanging out with Kelsey and Julie was indeed better than a lobotomy, so that's cool.

We didn't do much. Saw the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie (I'll have a review of this and all the others I've seen this weekend in an upcoming post). Ate some pizza. Tried Bubble Tea for the first time; I say for that experience alone it was worth the price of admission. I must admit, part of the fact I've never exposed myself to Bubble Tea is the fact that I've been severely biased by Mario and Mark's experience. They twisted my thinking so badly, I assumed consuming Bubble Tea was the equivalent to gargling on Satan's spluge. It was better than gargling on Satan's spluge, so that's cool.

I now realize that this post took a marked turn for the offensive (offensive as in mean; because they're all offensive as in Good Taste). I really did have fun, I'm just being a wiseass.

Oh, so anyway, in between TMNT and Bubble Tea, we hung out in Williamsburg. Walked through a bookstore and a cool little CD shop and this AWESOME toy store. They had - get ready - they had, a stuffed, Extra Life from Super Mario Bros. Like, the little green mushroom head; oh MAN, I wanted one so BAD! I wanted about 88% of the things in that store even though they were particularly useless and excessive and pointless and REALLY fucking expensive. Like, the Extra Life that was the size of a fist cost $10. That's just too much, although it would've been really cool to have it and wear it on my waist like a fanny pack and get hit by a bus and get up off the ground and say, "It's OK, I'll just use my Extra Life." And then I'd totally spit a fireball at that busdriver's ass and stomp on a Goomba's head (now why you gotta be hatin' on Italians?)

And after the Bubble Tea, I said my goodbye to Kelsey and Julie, bought four bottles of wine, and said I'd meet up with them at 9pm to go to this party in the city. I was supposed to run into Braxton and Eileen, should they have shown up. Then, when I got home, I got a call from Kelsey saying that they were only gonna stay at the party for an hour. Going all the way into Manhattan to stay at a party for an hour did NOT sound like a good time. So, I stayed here and got drunk.

Had I stayed awake for 10 more minutes after I went to bed in the one o'clock hour, I would've heard live over the phone with my very own ears the emancipation of Colin A. Olivers. Sounds like a groovy time had by all; I REALLY wish I was there for that. But, the voicemails were super sweet. Besides, I started drinking around 6 or 6:30 and plowed straight through until 1am. That's a beefy night anyway you slice it.

On Saturday, I forgot to get one of those change of address forms (now I have a note taped to my front door). Instead ... I ... went to see the movie Grindhouse. I watched the Tenacious D movie with Liz while eating Mexican delivery food. I met up with Emily at 9pm to go and check out a random Polish bar in her new neck of the woods. However, this was the Saturday before Easter, and for some reasons all the bars were closed. What the fuck, if anyone needs a drink, it's people who're about to have a giant fucking Easter Bunny running rampant hiding eggs all over the fucking place. I know I could've been plastered for that. Instead, we each got a milkshake and some coffee and then I came back here and had some more wine and watched ... I dunno, porn or something.

Today, I watched some more Season 1 action of the O.C. while I made pasta. Then I did my laundry. Then I went grocery shopping. Then, I made a fucking KICKASS meatloaf. Had to get the recipe from the Hammer, and it turned out fabulous. A little crisp on the bottom (I ended up taking it out about 5 minutes before I planned), but otherwise excellent. After feeding Liz and myself, I still have enough for two lunches. Maybe three. Then, tonight Liz and I watched Sherrybaby. That's, fuck, like four or five movies I've watched this weekend.

And you know what? I could give a fuck about ANY of them, because there's only one movie I WANT to see right now, but it's been stuck at 85 fucking percent all fucking day. Over The Top, starring THE one, THE only Sylvester Stallone. Man, as soon as my ship comes in, I'll be fucking set for life.

Until then, I remain, hunched over my computer,

Steven A. Taylor, esq.
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