eXcursions

It was early one winter morning, when the confines of my immediate surroundings encroached two steps too close. I decided what I needed was a vacation (another); a release. Instant gratification as Freud would claim.

Hastefully I packed: a few light garments (like my trusty jungle green, Michael Cera from Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist hoodie) ...Nunchucks... and headed north to a certain undisclosed location, in order to better "clear the Air."

[Pseudo-fed]

#whatever

After a few shots of JD and a tallboy or two, a man is bound to say what he really feels. Ha! Opinions. S0, without further ado, what I feel like I admire most about the dive-bar drinkeries of our day lies not in alcohol's bark but its bite. You hear the wildest things man! ..Also it usually works out that the proverbial yackers who relay these wild things are, in fact, wild things themselves.

Take, for example, a tale (over ale) I was told just the other night from a dude who once (allegedly) dropped 10 hits of LCD and locked himself in a porn-filled closet for two months.

Wild.

At this point, you're probably wondering two things: what kind of company I keep, and what's up with the notepad pic - in all of its gibberish glory? It's actually a shot of Twitter in the early years (circa '06), before the balding. Maybe. I stole the image from Wiki, so don't bank on it. But really, how did we go from talking to just ughhhh tweeting?

__________ + 'light bulb' moment (i.e. notepad gibberish) = Twitter

2 month acid trip in perverted closet + 'light bulb' moment (i.e. notepad gibberish) = Twitter...?


[bit of a stretch]

Roots

[the CREAM always rises]

A Plan For Saturday

Two strangers meet on

a train.

a bus.

a subway.

But sometimes, if you're feeling the insanity sauce, you bite off more than you can chew...and swallow no chaser. Because here you do it all, and that's really the operative word: do. This particular day though has been one for the record books (wherever they're kept).

"Chapter One. He was as tough and romantic as the city he loved. Behind his black-rimmed glasses was the coiled sexual power of a jungle cat. Oh, I love this. New York was his town, and it always would be."

Glow Sticks

When lights coming through the drapes and we're both yawning, I roll over and ask if I can hit it in the morning?

Wifey Material (Pt. 2)

If you must know, "Pt. 1" belonged solely to Ms. Thirlby but she's so 2009 ago. No, Twenty-TEN is all about trying new things. Like studying abroad. This broad.

I haven't been this excited since I first heard Lisa P. was back!

[FROM RUSSIA...]

Rap Good, Rockwell

Wake up KrAmerica, it's voting season! And while we're on the topic, I look at this particular portrait and I immediately think leadership. Sure, maybe he's wrong. Hell maybe Robert Stack in suede is a bumbling moron. But I'll tell you what: women love a strapping gentleman who can command an audience...combover or not. Actually, keep a' rockwellin' it daddy. THE SHOW GOES ON!!