Category Archives: written

on how to kill at friday

Posted on March 30, 2012 by | Leave a comment

Here’s how to completely kill the end of your work week. And I mean decimate it. Nuclear winterize it.

  • Spend a few hours the night before with a totally rad dude/dudette that you are completely into. This step is optional, since I know first hand how hard it is to find one of those. In a city of 8 million potential partners, no one here seems to want to make up their damned minds! Well, I have and, here’s the thing, it’s pretty boss.
  • Eat an apple fritter for breakfast. It will be the best culinary decision you’ve made all week.
  • Wear a shirt you adore. Mine is Gilda, hand silk screened by this lovely lady who runs the Fuck Yeah Gilda Radner. Go get your own and a dose of the lady herself. It goes great with your coffee and fritter.
  • Make a killer move at Words with Friends. Mine was “boner”. And I did that while pooping. I don’t think that I even need to play that game anymore since with that stroke, I have won ALL OF THE GAMES.
  • Your evening looks like this – Korea town karaoke, 99cent pizza, The Stepfathers at UCB with one of your oldest, dearest partners in farts and stars.
  • Followed by live band karaoke at a metal bar with 2 of the best hair having New Yorkers and that rad dude again
  • Fuck Saturday morning in the ear by sleeping the whole thing away.

You’re welcome.

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Posted in fashion, written

on ambitions and exceeded expectations

Posted on March 19, 2012 by | Leave a comment

Sunday morning at the races.
Early on a Sunday morning, I’m late of course. I run about a mile from my house to catch a cab to take me to the starting line where I am about to run another 13 miles. This is how I start my NYC Half marathon. Not with a nice, well timed breakfast, but with a rush of scarfing down scrambled eggs and peanut butter. That is how I prep for races. I get my adrenaline pumping by knowing that I am going to be so late to the race that it’s going to cost me an infuriating amount of money to get to the start line. But this time, I made it and on less than $20, already a win in my book.

Then the race starts. At first, I’m stiff. I am still having a good time though. Then I get warmed up. After the hill, at about mile three, I begin to tear the race to shreds averaging about an 8:56 mile. One mile was sub 8 minutes. Quite quick for me. I was having a blast, listening to a great tech house and disco playlist. I was expecting to do this race in 2:20. Instead, I beat my own personal record with a time of 1:57:19. I killed

I killed other things that day as well. A big ass burger – killed it. The rest of Sunday – killed it. A mini banana cream pie – killed it. Starting a relationship – killed it.

Wait what was that last one? Yup. That’s right. Looks like this lady seems to have tripped and fallen into a relationship. I didn’t expect that to happen any time soon. I was not unhappy running from my fears and drinking myself into excusable situations. That’s a lie. I was miserable. So I ran a race that ended, for once, with a nice guy waiting for me at the finish line. Isn’t that something?

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Posted in sketches, written

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on hoping your fear doesn’t eat you alive

Posted on March 15, 2012 by | Leave a comment


I think that you know what this image is. I haven’t yet got to deleting the account yet. I want to really savor that action. I want to relish finally being able to rid myself of the worry of what color my light is and what that says about me to total strangers that I care fuck all for. But that, that would take courage and trust in amount that I still need to tap my reserves for.

Let’s be clear. I am getting there. And I am thoroughly in like. And I am trying this new thing, what I like to call brutal honesty with myself and by default, that means the other person. So, get ready folks. There might be actual feelings going on.

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Posted in written

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somethings that may or may not have transpired

Posted on March 13, 2012 by | Leave a comment

There's this to cheer me in my office.

between the days of 2/06/2012 and 3/06/2012

I saw a building on fire with drama, smoke and romantic drizzle.
I fell in love for 36 hours and then that was over.
My cat at most of a house plant, but, miraculously did not throw up.
I decided it would be to leave a jacket that I really liked behind, rather than face what was waiting for me back inside that bar.
The words, “It was like an 80′s movie complete with a metal sound track” where said, a loud, and with out sarcasm.
There were about 47 minutes that I was paralyzed with regret and crippling self doubt.
I quit comedy about 9 times, 5 of those were in one week.
40 of those 47 minutes were spent trying to give myself a pep talk and getting myself to face the fact that I might be up against something real here, on the stage.
I still quit comedy.
Now I am back in lust with it.
I’ve had a total of 8 drinks.

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Posted in sketches, written

on sobriety

Posted on February 14, 2012 by | Leave a comment

1950s-cocktail-suggestions

I have made a decision. To be honest, it was a rather hard one for me. I love booze. You can tell from the history of this much neglected outlet of my brain. It’s true. It’s my one vice nowadays. We’ve had a long and storied relationship. We’ve gotten in and out of trouble with each. We’ve taken breaks before, but this time, this time, lover, it’s got to be a little longer. I have decided to go sober and celibate for 2 months. Basically, until I head to Austin for a friend’s wedding.

I made this decision after a few, ahem, mishaps. Basically, I put my vagina in some compromising positions. I woke up some places I didn’t really want to be. Nothing I felt bad about, I’m not into slut shaming or anything, but I would kind of like a real relationship. Also, when you are drunk enough not to remember, but have the presence of mind to send send yourself an email with the subject line “Stop being so slutty”, you should really listen to yourself. Getting completely swizzled and going home with people that, on a good day, I like but on a drunk one, I, shrug, guess love. This kind of behavior precludes developing a connection with anyone, let alone the guy next to me in the morning. I think that I would like one of those, a connection. Like one where I have some one to go do the stupid things I like doing with, like dress up as Spy vs. Spy and ingeniously faux murder each other all night. Or at least some one who will laugh at me while I do said stupid things, like sing “Holding out for Hero” by Bonnie Tyler in complete earnestness.

So to, whit, I started my sobriety streak Monday February 6th. It’s been a week. I’m doing alright so far. I miss it a little. The soft social lubrication it provides, but then again I don’t miss the over sharing, losing my shoes or picking puke out of my hair on a bad night.

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Posted in random, sketches, written

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