I’m old. I feel older. Y’all young whippersnappers with your Snoop Bloggy Blogs and your heezy sheezies, you make me feel like Blue in Old School. Or like any one of the Commodores at the Vibe Awards. Or like the Yankees rotation. Bah, you’ll get cold, you’ll need a sweater too. Now change my diaper!
I’m reading "The Bad Guys Won". For those who don’t know, it’s SI’s Jeff Pearlman’s book about the ‘86 Mets. Here’s two excellent quotes that I love:
"[Ours] was home to Paul’s Pizza and Rodak’s Deli; to plumbers and electricians… The Yankees were McDonald’s and Macy’s, lawyers and doctors. No thank you. Not here. To many New Yorkers, a visit to Shea Stadium was akin to sleeping in a sewer. From the blue paint peeling off the seats and the incessant noise of LaGuardia Airport jet traddic to the charmless concrete walkways and the goofy jumbo-sized apple beyond the outfield wall that glowed with every Met home run, the place (especially compared to palatial Yankees Stadium) was a housing project surrounding a diamond. Yet it was OUR housing poroject, and the Mets rolled out the red carpet for the average man."
And this one’s bitter and sweet but not bittersweet: "Yeah, Mariano, we know you just wanna win for the Yankees and play hard. We also know that Adidas is paying you $50,000 to wear that sweatshirt."
Thanks to all y’all who came and made the party a success. I hurt.
Sorry to anyone who reads this anymore, and the only one I know who checks it is my bro Tom Taylor. What Tom does not know that I am currently writing something and have borrowed his name for the main character. And Tom also does not know that I’ve replaced his usual coffee with Folger’s Crystals.
I’ve been on hiatus from life. I went to my friends’ wedding, that was cool. I saw Batman. I read the Harry Potter book. So, yeah, I’ve been doing jacques shit.
What can I say? What do you want to know? I had a modeling gig yesterday. It’s quite sad… Talk about out of my element. But holy smokes, the female model was so damn beautiful. So much prettier when she smiles but she don’t smile too much cus she’s a model.
I get depressed every year about this time. July. Hate it. It must be a low cusp in my man-period. At least for the past two years, it’s also been because I fell in love in spring and ruined it by this time of year. (During the photo shoot, the one time I did feel I was in my element was when we were supposed to be watching a game on TV and ignoring the woman (not bloody likely with this girl and no actual game on). My term for it was "channeling my fear of intimacy towards watching sports".)
We’re having a big party at our place this weekend. That should be cool. Come one, come all.
PS. I received a phone message where someone said "Thanks for not giving up
on me." I realized that I should tell everyone I love and everyone who
stands by me "Thanks for not giving up on me." Crap, that’s some cheesy shit. Sounds like an entry from Chicken
Soup for the Eternally Damned Soul.
