October 2005 Archives
I challenge anyone else to find a more efficient and artful way to open a can of tuna without a can opener.
What could be scarier than watching teenagers pelt each other with eggs on the streets of Astoria? Coming home to see this:
Yeah. It's not enough that he forgets which toothbrush is his, he now forgets which shorts belong to him. Hint: These are not his.
"I know you think you guys are as smart as I am, but that'll be the fucking DAY."
--The man across the air shaft, speaking to the pigeons. Again.
Me: Why is there blood on your sleeve?
David: I got in a fight. Some dude tried to take my wallet and I fucked his shit up.
Me: What really happened?
David: I picked my scab.
Yesterday I got an email with this story, about Xavier basketball player Dedrick Finn stealing a dog from an ex-girlfriend. Credible sources told me that the dog was a pug he had purchased for the aforementioned ex-girlfriend some time before. I'm not sure which is funnier, the fact that he took a dog back to campus housing, or, as Gilmore pointed out, that he bought his girlfriend a dog that looked like himself. What might be funnier than all of that is the fact that his basketball photo looks like a mugshot anyway.
On Monday I went to the bathroom and realized that my outfit (dark jeans, whit oxford, green sweater vest, tan jacket) was less preppy and more college professer. Now, no offense to Jay Arns, Ernie Fontana, or any of my academic uncles, but that wasn't quite the look I was going for. Likewise for Tuesday, when the bathroom mirror revealed that my offwhite turtleneck and black jacket made me look like I was on a fox-hunting trip. Today I got to work and realized that the problem might not be the mirror or even the clothes. I might just be an idiot.
Because a long time ago I was told that nothing makes him happier than little kitten faces. And I can see why. To vote for the cutest cats in the world go to www.kittenwar.com
Mom: What did Meghan mean when she said, "if you don't start re-sizing your pictures I'll kick you in the box?"
Me: She's going to kick me in the vag.
Mom: No, not that! I know what box means!
Girl: I liked Saw, but Saw II is kind of...dark.
--R Train
Did Sean Michaels ever face the Undertaker?
I have a question myself: Do I look like I know statistics about WWE wrestling?
Gay is the new pink. For everyone.
A few days ago my friend Dave bragged on his website that his name is:
#1 in MSN search results! To all the other David Gilmores out there (except for my dad, of course): SO'S YOUR FACE!
Well, Dave, guess what's #1 in Google image search results when I enter your name?
42nd Street Shuttle:
Guy: What do you call a Mexican with a rubber toe?
Guy #2: What?
Guy: Roberto.
Guy #2: That joke ain't funny. And look, there's Mexicans sitting across from us.
Girl: Yeah, I'm Mexican, but that was a bad joke anyway.
Guy: You're a Mexican? Oh, mi corazon!
Today, with the help of Rocky The Cable Guy, David and I were able to get out on the roof for some rainy-day views of Manhattan, Astoria, and our own greasy faces.
What genius thought up this ad campaign?
Because as a kid, I ate it up. Ba-dum-bum!
In a fax today, I was informed that The Johnson City Press does not accept advertising for Massage Parlors, Escort or Dating Services, Abortion Clinics, Fortune Tellers, Lotteries, or Bingo. Singles Clubs ads must be submitted for prior approval.
Today David exhibited the first signs that he is indeed turning into his father.
Of course, this is coming from a girl who got her mom to refer to people as "nutsacks."
How could the man responsible for such hits as "The Rhythm of My Heart" and "Forever Young" also be responsible for bringing THIS into the world:
HOW, ROD? HOW?!
P.S. 70
Woman: Why do I have to stack the F-ing milk?
Man: BECAUSE YOU'RE THE F-ING LUNCH LADY!
On Saturday, apartment 9 took a giant leap into the 20th century and bought a TV. Now, I consider myself not an idiot, but maybe I've been wrong. I was under the impression that one earned basic cable simply by owning a TV, and began receiving said channels simply by plugging the TV into the wall. I wasn't expecting HBO or MTV, but at the very least some UPN. Well, imagine my surprise when I was instead met with the sound of static and the disappointment of a wasted Saturday night. Luckily, the boys at Steinway Electronics hooked me up with this antenna, which adds to the apartment both the soothing sounds of actual television, and the creepy presence of a brown plastic "satellite dish."
When your attena looks like this, you just know it's working hard. I mean, I get like 5 channels in SPANISH.
If you can guess who said the following, you should commend yourself for your superior brainpower...
"Can I ask you a question? Where exactly are your armpits?"
"Is New York the City That Never Sleeps? Or is that Chicago?"
"Sometimes I can't sleep at night because I'm so excited about what I'm going to eat the next day. Maybe a sandwich, or a gyro. I just get so excited!"
"What instruments do they play for the Monday Night Football song? Is that horns and a drum?"
Last weekend I had my first three semi-celebrity sightings in New York. While I still hold onto the hope that a Claire Danes, Parker Posey, or Olson twin will cross my path, I'm content to say that this weekend I saw...
Christian Finnegan, of Best Week Ever semi-fame, walking in Astoria with a girl who was too pretty to be with him, even though he does have the cutest little baby face.
Veronica Webb, former face of Revlon and 90s supermodel, watching her toddler at a park in SoHo.
Rapper Jadakiss sitting on Steinway St. listening to his own music. Not even sure why I recognized him, apart from the people freaking out over seeing JADAKISS IN ASTORIA. I immediately regret even mentioning that I saw the man responsible for creating the worst song/list of rhetorical questions ever, "Why."
One reason the apartment seemed "bigger than I expected" was because there wasn't any furniture in it. And although the boyfriend insisted that he could carry a box containing the pieces of a table and four chairs ON HIS BACK to our apartment, a box that the man in the store needed a dolly to wheel out to the curb, serendipity provided us with a cab. The cabdriver was more than helpful, helping to carry the box to our doorstep, where he then suggested we cut it open and carry the pieces up separately "to avoid hernias." Sage advice, and before we could argue, he whipped out a knife, explaining, "I always have a knife because I'm Puerto Rican." Gotta love helpful people, even when they are stereotypes.