Almost forgot

Yes, a costume.

pull the whole outfit together

We had a wicked rad housewarming party a couple weekends ago. A and I requested our guests bring plants and we got three cacti (because everyone knows how nurturing we are. Just ask Mister Lady!) I made an enormous cafeteria-size tin of hot pepper mac and cheese. Also we had guacamole, a la Trader Joes. Let's not forget booze, which we also had. Enough booze to drive me into my own truckbed at 5am, carrying on with my buddy Dan like a couple of drunken sailors. The hetero kind.

So yeah, the party was mad dope and all, yet something was missing, something to pull it all together, really make it *pop*. Today I figured out what we lacked- celebrity guest speakers!

I've done my research and found a great agency that provides celebs for hunting expeditions or bar mitzvahs or whatever. Now I just have to decide who I want.

Choice 1

Choice 2

Choice 3

Now vote.

Email from my mom today

Clean your hands.

Washing your hands often will help protect you from germs.

Avoid touching your eyes, nose or mouth.

Germs are often spread when a person touches something that is contaminated with germs and then touches his or her eyes, nose, or mouth

Really?

If you see something, say something, right? Maybe this isn't terrorism but still, three canisters of highly explosive liquid nitrogen tied to a lightpost at rush hour isn't like, cool.

In related news, A has a plan that terrorists could use. It involves hacking Mapquest so that every set of directions leads people to the same place. And that place is just one huge hole. Everybody falls in. Terrorism wins. The end.

Popeye Stevens

Sufjan Handsome has big pipes when I take pictures!

ain't that good news

If you want an awesome saturday night before Halloween, shoot me an email. I've got a plan I can promise will be fun. No costume? Look here.

Be a sport.

Bike in the basement of the Alamo

On my way to a bar in Park Slope last night, I saw a handmade sign that said "Psycic reading $2" pointing up some old stairs.

At the top, I rang a doorbell and met Candela, a 19-year-old gypsy. The light didn't work in the "fortune room" so she read my palms on the filthy purple davenport in her loud, brightly-lit living room. Her kids were playing in a sprawling toy estate which took up half the room. (see photo)

I've gone to a few psychics in my life and I feel like if I'm gonna pay to get ripped off, at least they can put some effort into it. I wanna be grifted by an artist, not some half-assed teen mother who isn't even willing to turn the TV off during my reading.

Candela seemed so bored. She told me all the standard crap, including that I like to travel, I will be very famous and some of my friends are actually my enemies. She wasn't even looking at my palms! (And before you ask what I expect to get for two bucks, it turned out the price was actually ten dollars. I expect to get a lot for ten dollars.)

How it ended:
"I sense there's some spiritual blockage in you. Some trouble you need to work through. May I light a candle for you?"
"Will it cost me more?"
"Yes, there is an additional cost for..."
"Not interested."
"I don't understand why you wouldn't want to take care of your spiritual health. This is no joke here."
"I don't want to spend more money. I've spent enough."
"You may regret this later. Feel free to come back if you change your mind."

Um, is that a gypsy curse? I think that's a gypsy curse. Damn it, those things are such a hassle.

Oh I forgot, I found out my spirit color is yellow and my spirit day is Sunday.

100 blog points to the first person to explain what my post title means.

playin hookey

test

The middle room of my apartment is where old technology goes to die. First my computer fried a couple weeks ago, then my old camera kicked it a few days later. I don't mind the camera's passing so much, it was the size of a small Mazda and it often took unrequested artistic liberties. And like a phoenix from the flames, I got a slick little Sony in the mail today from Ebay. Look at my first photo with the new guy, I call it Picture of Not-so-good Picture (A Celebration.)

and

I dreamed about smoking last night and it felt so good.
and
I've stopped looking the security guard in the eye when I show him my badge.
and
That may have been vomit I stepped in this morning but I didn't have time to inspect.
and
Regis Philbin was in our lobby this week but I didn't have time to inspect.
and
Moving to New York feels like I just turned 21 again.
and
My body reminds me every morning I did not just turn 21.
and
Two more blogs to read, mert and vv.
and
How does the geography of the Union Square subway stop shift every three days, so I'm looking at completely unfamiliar territory whenever I step off the train?

Dress-up

My Canadian twin has been mulling over issues of identity today, his big 3-3 birthday. I've got a few things on my plate as well. I saw this guy sing last night. Does he look like anyone familiar? Like say, me?

So one dude has my name, another dude has my face. But no one has...my provocative fashion sense! No seriously. Hey, where are you guys going? Wait up!

Everybody needs more B-E-T-H-M-U-L-L-I-N

From a Beth email today:

sometimes i just go to my good boss's office door and say things like "i am not wearing shoes." and then i just stand there and she is so nice she says "oh, okay," and smiles. then i walk away and i am like "man! i am so stupid! why did i say that.?" then i sit at my desk and look at more internet until i get up and tell her something again.

live through this

I got this delicious spicy chicken and rice platter for lunch today with yogurt sauce and mixed greens for four bucks. Okay, maybe it looks disgusting (like one of those menuboards in cheap chinese restaurants,) but it's actually wicked dope.

So right now, you're thinking, "Four dollars for all that awesome? Does Jesse work in the Magic District?" No my friends, I am just hip to the centuries-old urban tradition of street meat. Good, cheap and greasy.

I got in a long discussion with a co-worker about streetmeat pros and cons today. He was passionately opposed until he smelled this stuff after I brought it back to the office. "Dang Jesse that smells great! It was only four dollars? You're so smart, I love you, etc." I win.

Not that I haven't had my problems...

post-script: I guarantee Cupcake or someone has some story of contracting syphilitis of the tongue from eating streetmeat. I will be very impressed by their urban acumen and will rue the day I ever found Delicious.

Ichiban!

I love Japanese class, so much. Fun facts:

-There's six students, black, white, Puerto Rican, Pakistani, Vietnamese and me (1/32nd Cherokee Warrior.)

-My teacher is a funny little spitfire named Mitsue (meet-soo-eh.) She laughs loudly at the hilarious things I say, such as- "What is the word for book?"

-I've sent a few text messages in Japanese because it sounds cool. I say things like, "Your engineer is on the fourth floor" and "Good luck with a German umbrella."

-I refuse to learn the actual written language. 1,965 characters (!) is too much for my overstimulated little cashew brain to absorb. After all, I'm learning how to live in New York!

-When Mitsue holds up flashcards with Japanese letters (Hiragana) on them, I make grunts that sound like every noise in the world.

-There are two Japanese verbs that mean existing, arimasu for inanimate objects and imasu for people and animals. Of course I had to raise my hand and ask about airplanes and robots. I would've been awesome in Sunday School.

Lazy Tuesday

"What's my weakness?"

Yes it was bizarre, yes it was hilarious, yes they served beer. Let's never speak of it again. (Cheers V, you're a sport.)

new foot visit

Park Slope, a bit later

science for real people

On the elevator TV screen today, I learned that special chemicals in chocolate can prevent severe dementia. You know what else chocolate prevents? A severe case of the Grumpies!

Have a good weekend everybody. Enjoy this picture of Fundamentalist Mormon leader Rulon Jeffs...with two of his eighty wives! p.s. Stop judging, he's dead.

Peak Hill

My mother sent me an email today with the subject header "Hey post-birthday boy." It said simply:
You are now responsible for all your actions.

She didn't sign it but I knew it was from her because it's an email.

In other news, my hair looks like a surfboard today.

The Christian in me gave you the benefit of the doubt

I've been gently hinting to my co-worker that this fine piece of R. Kelly bling, only $8.99 on ebay, would make a cherry birthday gift. He's all, 'ha-ha yeah totally!' No sucker, you need to buy it for me, make haste.

street talk

There's a song by Atmosphere, one of my favorite hip-hop rapping groups, where the lyric just seems somehow, off.

It was a .38, the poor man's machete.

Do you see why this doesn't make sense?

Mass. Peaches

Thanks to everyone who helped make this weekend shine, roll call-
Beth, Jenny, Jon, sissy, Sharon, Alison, Aaron, Bejustithany, Niko, Griff, Jess, Erin, Joe, Matt, Mike and new friends Wendy, Cecily and Doug!

Special shout-out to Auntie Mary, who turned 80 and will never read this blog!

And to Ben Alper- Dude, WTF!

Finally, a sport for the whites

Have you ever seen a hockey game? SPORTS!

Last night I went to Madison Square Garden for the Rangers opening night and it was awesome. It took two beers for me to start foaming at the mouth and yelling at the stupid bums from Florida who can't even play hockey and are stupid and lousy at sports. I kid you not, I was high-fiving with bruisers from Queens whenever the Rangers scored.

The only downside was the lack of blood. There were almost-fights and a couple of penalties but I would've liked it if a Ranger say, ripped off the head of a Florida Panther and scored a goal with it. Or could they introduce some lions onto the ice? Maybe burn the losing team on stakes? I'm a man, these are things I like.

(This post is meant to distract from the other event I'm attending soon at MSG.)

Don't anybody like the smell of gasoline?

T keeps spraying this shit in the office that he loves because it reminds him of the "smell of fresh tampons." He also likes ponies quite a bit and whenever possible, incorporates their skin into his fashion designs. Hey that's cool man, it's New York, everybody has their little peccadilloes.

It's just, I don't want to go looking for a highlighter and have a bunch of dead nurses tumble onto the floor.

Star Wars for Gays

I am in the unique position of seeing my ex's name whenever I piss in Manhattan. Kohler is the name of a huge plumbing supply company and it appears they won the contract on New York toilets and urinals. It's a funny little startle.

If I could choose, I would see my name emblazoned on delicious chicken tenders and flowers. Or this.
*
I'm ready to take my complicated relationship with cats (they are disgusting and cute, I've killed two, I nurture one) to the next level. Seriously, I think it'll be the cultural experience of a lifetime, like Best in Show meets Willie Wonka. I guarantee there's at least three serial killers in the crowd.

V likes the phrase "Click here for Agility jewelry."
*
My birthday is next week, I'm having three little events instead of one big one. Ooh, and my co-workers are taking me to Applebees for lunch! I know it's pretty fancy, but you only turn 30 once.

Damn, we have CPR training that day, I hope we can cancel. Though I love locking lips with my boo Resusci-Annie, I'd rather stuff my face with Hot Fudge Jalapeno Steak Nibble-tinis. Unfortunately no one will know how to give me the Heimlich.

C'mon C'mon

The kid above looked so peaceful on the train, I wish he was taking my sleeping picture at 1:30am. Tomorrow won't feel so wicked awesome.

Ah well, it's all worth it, special thanks to McCormacks and good company.

I listened to the subject song a few times on the way home tonight. Leave me alone Von Bondies! I already enjoy Snow Patrol and Bloc Party, isn't that enough modern stadium noise?

My computer crashed last night, probably for keeps. That means I've lost some good new york photos, all the rest of my photo library, as well as most of my song library. First-world woes.

cheers chums.