Shamrocked

that's some drunk ass bitches that live next door. just heard one of them pound up the steps, hiccuping and obviously wasted.

at 10:00 p.m.

on St. Patrick's day.

no stamina.

i haven't had a drop. i'm going to this party tonight that starts at 3:30 a.m. i'm going to leave here around 2:00 and go somewhere in the village for a warm-up.

it'll be weird hitting the bar scene stone cold sober at the absolute pinnacle of everyone's drunkeness. must be on the lookout for green puke and dropped wallets.



"HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY!" says toilet.

"BLLALALLALALGHHHAHAHAHA" says neighbor.

Also, new sheets and fruit.

when i die
you may want to look into
unwashed colander
as a cause of
death.

Tiptoe Through the Tulips, Wade Through the Web Pages

A client wants me to start an email with "April Showers Bring May Flowers."

I'm scouring the Internet looking for a way to put a creative twist on this most original of sentiments.

In doing so I stumble across the world's most annoying web site.

HERE IT IS
(turn up your speakers)

I also found Raindrops: Death Education for Kids of All Ages.

Tell me if you're as confused about your mortality as I am after viewing the slideshow. Gentleman's got problems.

In the South They Say "Pocketbook"

I'm not into purses. Wait, that's wrong. I'm not into expensive purses and think women are deluding themselves when they spend three thousand dollars on a handbag and expect people to give a shit or notice.

But I read a lot of tabloids. I live in New York. Occasionally I will have an opinion.

This one has to do with the Fendi Spy Bag.

What the fuck is that big long thing in front? Is it a liquor flask? A horsewhip? A leather-bound dildo? Did someone steal it from a mummy?



"A curse on she who plunders chin and affixes to ugly overpriced purse."

OK, I'm done.

Just had to get that out.

Sorry.

Everyone cares about me and what I look like and what I'm doing at all times.

On the way home from the shrinks today I stopped at a cart and got a soft pretzel.

This always makes me self-conscious. I feel like people look at me and think "TOURIST" and that bothers me so much that I find myself subtly modifying my behavior to look more like what I think looks like a New Yorker.

This means walking at a quicker pace, glaring a little so as to look more unapproachable and being all lightning quick with my MetroCard.

It's shallow and adolescent but I'm not the only New Yorker who does this. It might not be pretzels. It might be looking at a bus schedule or going to MoMA but the spirit and attitude are similar.

I wonder, does anyone do this in Fresno? Dallas? Detroit?

My guess is no.

Tuesdays with Someone Who's Not Morrie

Me: dig this McDonald's ad. when and where is McDonald's food served up like that?

Sister: i have to say that ad is pretty damn good. it makes me think "QUALITY" even though i know i shouldn't.

Me: it's so fucking over the top. there may as well be a unicorn in there.

Sister: there might be, erin, there might be. look closely at that nugget.

How to Play NO EAR CAT SAMURAI

1. Get cat.

2. Pet cat head. Firmly.

3. Position fingers on either side of feline head and pull back, flattening ears and elongating eye sockets.

4. Say "SAMURAI CAT! SAMURAI CAT!" triumphantly while sibling or non-PeTA-affiliated friend snaps photo.