Okay, kiddies. This is another of those things where I’ll probably just breeze through about 19 topics because I don’t have the time or energy or patience to post proper things anymore. Not lately.
So it’s like a Week In Review kind of thing, I guess? I don’t know. Whatever.
I got drunk as fuck last night. Not as drunk as I should’ve been, based on the amount of drinking I did. But it was fun. 7 or 9 beers and a half of a fifth of Jim Beam I had left. I woke up still drunk this morning, for work. I didn’t even do anything last night. I mean I wanted to get fairly drunk and write a lot. But I ended up just talking on Gmail chat or whatever that thing is called. It was fun though. Good, mellow fun. Tonight, I’m having a beer. One. I need a break. And Herr Doctor says I have to not consume things that will thin my blood. Because if I do, I can probably bleed to death through the holes he’s scheduled to put in my balls on Tuesday afternoon. Oh noes!!
I went to the city on… oh, Thursday! My day off. I was hella bored of sitting at home, and all of my friends were off being responsible and working and rearing children and stuff. So I got on the train. I met a girl who was pretty. We were getting along, and I wanted to ask her out for drinks but. She was a fucking scrub. She ended up not even having money for her train ticket. But she had pretty lips that I may or may not have fantasized about briefly. Anyway. I got off in Penn Station and then walked over to take the 6 train down to Astor Place. I really wanted to find something good to do that night, find a show to see or something. But there was nothing good going on until the following night. Of course. So I ate some good pizza. I went into a couple of record stores and didn’t get anything. I almost got a first release copy of “It’s Spooky” by Jad Fair & Daniel Johnston, the one that came out on 50 Skidillion? But I really didn’t feel like spending 15 bucks on a cd that I already have the reissue of. Fuck all that. So. I went and got drunk and made friends in bars.
I went to Mars Bar. Which is maybe the shittiest dive bar on Earth. So I stayed there a long time. I chatted it up with some drunks and some punks and the bartender was pretty much amazing. She was like a cross between Scary Spice and Amy Winehouse and Downtown Julie Brown, except she may have had a cock. I mean, I don’t know. It’s possible. She was as swanky as it gets. And the jukebox there is the best ever. It’s mostly full of mix CDs that people have made special for Mars. So there was tons of great random shit. We listened to The Mekons and The Stooges and Black Sabbath and T-Rex and The Misfits and a bunch of other good things. And it was good, not all scenesterish. Even some jock-looking tourists came in, greeted by friendly hellos. What I’m saying is that you should go there sometime.
I also drank a few beers and played some darts at Grassroots Tavern on St. Mark’s. I haven’t been there more than once or twice, but it was a long time ago and I don’t even remember if it was called Grassroots at the time. To be honest, I think I was under-age when I drank there before. I like the place though. It was pretty empty but I liked it. The place is big, with a low ceiling, and everything is made of really dark, rich woods. And the beer is pretty cheap.
(I’m writing these down because I’d like to remember them for going back to them next time I’m in that neighborhood.)
The subway back uptown was fucking bad news. I thought we were going to die. You know how there’s fucking turbulence on planes? Like… rough turbulence? Yes, that’s what this particular train ride was like. And so it slowed down to a near halt. And I was convinced Wesley Snipes was going to come in from another car, with a laser gun from the future. Wesley was going to kill us all, for no reason. I pissed a little.
Okay. So this blog entry isn’t going to be very big and diverse. It’s about drinking, and drinking in New York, and Wesley Snipes sci-fi things. I’m going to leave it like this. I will title it with a song lyric (probably something from the new Menomena because I am addicted to it right now) that makes not much sense. And I will move on to my cigarette upstairs. And when I get back down here, I have things to say about Shareem. And maybe some other things too.