Sunday, February 13, 2005

weekend highlights

*Many, many thanks to Ashlee Simpson for making other "singers" feel the need to actually sing during live performances. J Lo and Marc Anthony just entertained me more than they ever have (which is, of course, not saying much) with their overly dramatic Spanish duet on the Grammy's. J Lo's horribly off-key vocals and Marc Anthony's, um, ugliness combined with the faux-sincerity of the spectacle made it a real heart-warmer.

*Thanks also to FAB former roommate D, who has provided me with a selection of futons on which to sleep and various pot-smoking apparati. I can't say I'm a huge fan of getting stoned, but being perfectly content watching terrible weekend television and eating pizza and leftover Indian food certainly simplifies things. Also, my recent viewing with Perplexa of the 1940's cautionary film "Reefer Madness," which depicts how weed makes everyone who so much as thinks about it instantly hyperactive and violently psychotic, has given me something to chuckle about as I sit by myself quietly in the corner, thinking about bunnies and how it feels kinda funny when I move my head.

*Though I've been in the know in regards to the Alife Rivington Club for years, I am not quite cool enough to know where it is, other than behind some unmarked door on Rivington Street. On Saturday E and I swallowed our not-quite-hipster pride and asked some vintage store salesperson for its location. Before telling us that it was just across the street, Customer Service Award Winner of the Year quickly corrected our pronunciation of the establishment. (A - life, not a - LIFE...okay then) It was all worth it because A-life is having some kind of clearance sale, and each of us got a snazzy pair of Nikes for a mere $30. Though my financial situation is not at all conducive to buying clothing and accessories, I just can't feel guilty about that one.

*And, lastly, the crowning glory of the weekend, with much credit to Drone and FAB former roommate D:
After some mingling and snarking at some rich kid's party in his Soho loft (of the movie "Big" fame,) Drone and D took a cue from another outside loiterer and decided to relieve themselves on the side of the building. While Drone left a puddle to be reckoned with, D's seemingly brilliant tactic of peeing into a grate on the sidewalk backfired as he was spotted by a police officer and slapped with a public urination ticket, to which D responded "Dude..." The host of the party came down to regulate the commotion, and when informed of what happened he scoffed, "Let them get what's coming to them," and stormed back in. This at least equals my previous favorite peeing experience: the two-part synchronized triple pee with friends E and S down the historic stone stairs of Riverside Park as FAB looked on in horror and guarded our brown-bagged 40's of Bud.

2 comments:

Fat Asian Baby said...

I think what's most amazing about that last little tidbit is that there was a time when I actually DIDN'T have to pee. My favorite public urination story is when S. and I pulled off the highway into the parking lot of the Christian Life store to be. I have a lovely picture somewhere of Steph squatting, cigarette dangling out of her mouth, with the Christian Life sign behind her on one of my 900 un-developed disposable cameras.

Andrew DF said...

Eeew, I sit on those steps, you junkies!

My fav was Chris and Tony off the end of a subway platform at 4am, getting busted by two undercovers while Ernie and I looked on pretending not to know them.

G, didn't one of the girls on your team once use a plastic bedpan sitting on the sidewalk with the garbage once? I'm sure of it. Maggie, perhaps?