Stuff you learn on the subway.

Today I learned something really valuable from a young man on the subway.  I feel obligated to pass it along:

“Don’t put baby powder on your private parts, cuz your private parts ain’t baby parts! Put Gold Bond on your private parts, cuz your private parts BE GOLD!”


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Stuff you learn from watching bad TV

I am watching the worst 9/11 special ever.  It’s called “When Pop Culture Saved America” and it’s about how it affected celebrities… and their television programs.

Turns out the real heroes are Billy Ray Cyrus, Carson Daly, and soap operas.  I’ve been so misinformed for so many years.


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Uh Oh.

So, as some of you may know, I need a job.  The kind where I get an annual salary and health benefits (the hard to find kind).  And as I go along applying for jobs people keep asking me for my blog.  And I mean I have a blog (this one) but it’s not super appropriate for handing over to people I want to hire me.

Basically what this blog says about me is:

a. I have sort of a potty mouth.

b. I’m REALLY funny.

c. I often drink too much wine while watching the bachelor/ette.

So I’m not sure what to to do… do I hand this blog over to employers hoping that they only notice point b. or that they notice all the points but see them as a valuable part of point b?

OR do I have to just start some sort of blog where I sound more workplace appropriate and share little of my real personality and stifle my humor…

And yeah, yeah, I’m sure there’s an in between.  But I liked this blog being a little space where like 5 of my  friends came every so often to laugh about my fucked up neighbor.

And now I have to write a blog that shows employers that I spend a lot of time thinking about Hootsuite’s new analytics features (which I actually do, but it’s not as fun to write about as the guy I saw on the train this am eating oatmeal out of a hole he’d bitten in the corner of a Ziplock bag)


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At the risk of sounding like I’m coming from some old timey era, like 2009, I have to talk about my amazing smart phone… my first smart phone.
Since the rest of you have probably all been addicted to yours for about 3 years now, I won’t bore you with most of my discoveries. But today I did the most amazing thing, I fucking deposited a check through my phone!
I mean it really is a smart phone!
Also, this post was SUPPOSED to be about the Bachelor Pad, but my stupid TV doesn’t work again. Plus I don’t really understand that show. I think It’s just a bunch of dumb sluts having sex and playing twister… and then fighting about sex and playing twister. Oh hey, I guess I do understand it after all.

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How often do you think about socks?  I personally think about them a lot… seriously, I do.  A few christmases ago I was gifted with about 30 pairs and it ranks up there with the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received.

Anyway my neighborhood has a traveling sock salesman.  Anyone reading this that lives between 6th and 4th avenues anywhere from 9th to 16th streets definitely knows who I’m talking about.  It’s this little old guy that carries around a gigantic bag of gym socks.  Rain or shine, he trucks around park slope peddling his socks to anyone who will buy them.  The curious thing is, I’ve never EVER seen a single person buy them.

I’m just so curious what the market for street socks is?  How did he come up with the idea?  Was it like “Hey you know what I notice a lot of people needing on the fly? Socks!”  Was there once a large market socks in south slope and now that need has dwindled due to the economy?  I mean I just don’t get it.

However as somebody who is in desperate need of a job (can anyone out there hire me?) I admire his entrepreneurial spirit.  I makes me wonder if things get really bad, could I join the ranks of street peddlers?  He clearly makes some sort of living… maybe I could sell something more practical, like stockings?

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So.  Every building in New York has a crazy guy (or a crazy lady), and mine is no different.  My building’s resident crazy is Larry, or if you’re the woman who lives above me (and across the hall from him) he’s Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaary!  Either one works.  Anyway.  This guy is a Desert Storm veteran, so I should probably be thanking him for defending my country…. if the dick hadn’t been so busy ruining my life for the last year.  Just to give you an idea of what we go through on the regular in my building here is a brief profile of the larry I’ve known and hated:

– He’s a meth head, fo shizzle (I’ll admit it, I used to heart the meth heads, until I had to share a building with one).

– He has a bum leg (on one foot he wears a crock, on the other a regular shoe) and it takes him 45 minutes to get up and down the stairs.  It makes it difficult to leave my apartment sometimes.  Often his trip involves a prolonged period of wheezing while leaning against the door to my apartment.

– He is constantly making crude comments about me.  He asks me out on ‘dates’ by coming to my apartment and asking to borrow my cell phone to order chinese food and then graciously offers to purchase me some if I come over to his place and eat it.  um, no… um, fuck no.

– He has a crack head friend who drives a red mustang (douchy crack head alert) and is always at our building.

– I get to hear gems like this because he and his friend can only converse by yelling on the 45 minute long trips they take up and down the stairs: Larry: (moaning and groaning as he climbs the stairs) “I wanna go caaaaaaampin.  I wanna goooooo campin.  It’d be nice to go caaaaaaaaaampin right now.”  I mean home slice can’t even WALK UP STAIRS… how is he going to go caaaaaaaaampin?

– one of my neighbors told me that they left their apartment one afternoon to find him bare assed in the hallway struggling to put on his ‘pants’… he couldn’t get them on because he was actually struggling to get the arms of his jean jacket over his legs.

– My super smashed his head through a window one night because Larry was so fucked up he locked himself out of the apartment and then tried to punch my super when he went to let him in.

– I walked out of my building one day to find him icing his nostrils with little bits of snow.

I don’t really need to go on do I?…

Anyway he’s been reaaaaaaaaaaal quiet lately.  Actually JUST the other day Scott asked me where Larry was and I realized, wow, he’s been missing.  I figured maybe they finally shipped him off to rehab, or the loony bin, or the gutter.  Who knows right?

Well yesterday I was coming home about to run up the stairs, bike over shoulder, when I see larry coming down the stairs.  Now, first of all, he was wearing a matching set of sneakers.  Second of all he had a cane.  Third of all, he looked… well… kinda normal.  Like a old dude who was once a meth head… but not an old dude that’s currently a meth head.

So I open the door and am fully prepared for a him to sexually assault me verbally (which he only does when i’m looking busted as hell, like after coming home from biking in the pouring rain… which pisses me off more than if he was doing it when i actually look hot.  If somebody is going to say nasty shit to me at least it should be sincere).  But he didn’t say anything remotely sexual.  He actually yelled at me for treating him like a crippled crack head!  I asked if I could get past him with my bike and he looked at me and goes “I have trouble walking but I’m not a cripple, I’ll be down these stairs in a second.”

WHAT?!?!?!  Who is this man?  I guess I always knew we couldn’t go on like this forever, but the option of him staying and cleaning his act up never occurred to me.  My mind is… blown (LIT-erally as Rachel Zoe would say).  I just wonder how long it will last.

I’ll keep y’all posted.

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I missed you. Oh you too!

home visits?  What is WRONG with these parents?  If I EVER said to my mom “hey i’m going on reality show to mee the love of my life will you meet him?”  I think my mom would rightly say ‘no.”  Just that.  No.  And you know who else would say no?  my dad. And you know who else?  my brother.  Like where on Earth do they find these horrid humans?

EVEN EVEN if a mother watched the show and loved it, wouldn’t a sense of maternal normalcy swing in and tell you to say to your child “NOOOOOOOOOO! This never works.”  Especially this crazy train Jake.  If I brought a Jake home my parents would just DIE.  And not a good death.  A ‘please boot him death’

Okay now I’m watching Alli (the blondy) try to leave…. Ooooh i’m torn, does she just want fame, or does she really like him?   I mean i think they are d.bags made in heaven.  Oooooooh oh my god she left.  I’m sure she returns next weekend.  Oh and I’m right about the “most dramatic finale ever’.  clearly she’s the one he chose.  I am no fool.  I’ve watched enough seasons to know that the fame whore always wins.

God.  This show.  Tinley?  Really?  “I only had sex with my husband and then he cheated”…. NO SHIT!  Nobody…. yo woman… nobody just sleeps with one person forever. “My ex husband never saw me dance the dance I had in my heart.”  Vomit.  Hahaha.

Oh. so terrible.  I’m horrified to admit this, but on Live! with Regis and Kelly they do a segment called Bad Regis where he plays an evil devil on the shoulder of the Bachelor…. and frankly its AMAZING.  They did a whole montage of her saying “I don’t want to talk about my husband” followed by husband comments with regis making snarky comments on the shoulder.  And then when she danced he was ON the dance floor going ‘you feel as awkward as we do? nobody wants to watch her dance”.  I’m sorry  Bad Regis RULES.

so this episode was horrible/amazing.  Alli is coming back and hopefully winning.  She’s the only person as cheesy and horrible as him so I’m assuming its just some network drama before she wins.  aaaaaaaaah bachelor… the worst/best show on TV

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