– Went to the opera in Central Park last night (aka: Yuppie Public Boozefest). Shouldn’t they just change New York’s laws on public drinking to read: “Consumption of alcoholic beverages in public spaces is illegal, unless there is classical music playing in the background.”
– Oddly, I never see any homeless people at these events. If I were homeless, I would look forward to these concerts all year. And then when the time came, I would gather all my homeless friends, spread out a sheet (or some AM New Yorks) on the Great Lawn and crack open our flasks.
– Like my friend James said last night, how lucky are the cops that get chosen to work these concerts? Time and a half to walk around babysitting the wine and cheese crowd? What’s the worst that can happen – someone doesn’t rinse out their paper cup between the cabernet and the pinot gris?
– On my bus ride across 79th street to the park, I saw three 20-something girls who were obviously going to the concert (grass mats and liquor store bags in tote). The funny thing was, they were all decked out in their best “going-out” attire (cleavage shirts and $5,000 jeans), which led to this hilarious conversation:
Me: “It’s like they were planning on picking up guys at the concert.”
James: “If they’re planning on picking up men at the opera in central park, I don’t think they should be wearing club outfits.”
Matt: “Yeah, they should wear a man costume.”
– Lenny’s makes the best sandwiches. Period. H-1 brings tears to my eyes. I might name my first born “H-1.” I know it’s more of a boy’s name, but I think it works for a girl too. (Seeing as how I can’t go with my original name for a girl, which was Madison, because my little sister named her Yorkshire Terrier “Madison.” The last thing I need is my daughter reaching the age of reason and asking me why I named her after her aunt’s dog. And it’s not like I can wait until the dog dies and then have a daughter, because then I’m naming her after her aunt’s dead dog.)
– I was just in a stall in the bathroom and a guy was already in the middle stall when I got there (asshole). So he’s finishing up and of course I’m watching his feet because why wouldn’t I, and suddenly I see him flush the toilet with his foot! And what’s worse is that he then left the bathroom without washing his hands. So he’s not OK with touching the toilet handle and then washing his hands, but he’s OK with wiping his ass and then not washing his hands? Unless he’s just so lazy that he doesn’t want to bend over to flush the toilet, in which case I respect him.
– Apparently my job might be in danger because I have a blog. God I hope it never slips in here that I ordered a new staple remover not because my old one was broken, but because I wanted a red one to match my stapler. (Is it just me or is this headline unnecessarily bitter?: “Warning: Your clever little blog could get you fired.”)
– Is it just me or does the camel look like it is going to kill Jennifer Love Hewitt when she least expects it?
"You wouldn't be laughing if this guy would just let go of this rope."
– My friend just asked me to help her find an apartment. Isn’t that the equivalent of asking someone to help you quit your heroin addiction? Sure, I’d like to be a good friend, but some things need to be done on your own.