Tales Of Starsky And Hutch Or How I Ended Up Back At Mars Bar...

Meet DBall:

Back Story:

DBall has been my best friend for many years now but we got very close when we broke up with our college boyfriends and started getting into all kinds of trouble in 2004.  We used to go by the nicknames Starsky and Hutch (the Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson version).  She was Starsky, the uptight play by the rules cop and I was Hutch, the cool and easygoing member of the duo. The joke of it is, that DBall only appears to be uptight and rule following.  When you first meet her she may seem like a Miranda type (minus the ugly red hair and being a lesbian) because she is a successful business woman and would probably get married and have a baby now if her boyfriend was up for it. But, in reality, DBall is one crazy mofo.

Present Time:

DBall and I try to get together at least once a month to catch up on each others lives over dinner and drinks.  Recently these nights have not been as wild and crazy as they were when we were in college.  But last Wednesday, we went wild.  Literally.
We started out our night with a lovely dinner at La Esquina where prim and proper DBall told me about a charity she was involved with where she helps out underprivileged children.  This was funny to me because DBall doesn't know how to relate to small children.  She is one way - prim, proper and mature - and that is it.  She talks to babies, animals and small children like she would to an adult.
At her last event she was paired up with a sweet little girl from the inner city.  They got off on a really great foot because DBall's first question was about the little girl's parents.  The girl replied that she lives with her grandma because her mom is dead and she doesn't know her dad.  Nice one D
The activity of the day involved making a bunny to commemorate Easter.  The girl was a bit of sped and tried to put what should be the bunny's foot as its nose.  DBall says to this little girl:
Don't do that!  The foot is too big to be the nose.  If you put it there, this little bunny will want to have a nose job when she grows up.
I swear to G-d that is what she told this girl.  In response the girl asked what a nose job was.  My very mature best friend replied with a very technical definition:
People get nose jobs when they aren't happy with the way their nose looks.  Like, see I have a bump in my nose and want to get a nose job.  So I would go to the doctor and he would cut open my nose, shave down the bump and then put it back together again.
The little girl was horrified.  You're Lucky You're Pretty DBall.

La Esquina is a Mexican restaurant that serves Tequila Flights.  So after dinner DBall and I were pretty bombed and decided it was best not to go home, but rather continue our night out.  I'm really not sure how it happened. But we basically bar hopped around the East Village and our final destination was the one and only Mars Bar.
Yes, the dive bar that I said I presumed was worse than prison and was probably owned by the devil himself.  While there I made friends with a 41 year old Israeli and because he was from Israel I assumed he knew Hebrew and immediately proceeded to sing him my Haftorah.  I didn't even know I still remembered it - but the Israeli was impressed and was even able to determine when my birthday was based on the content of the Torah portion.  I also managed to make friends with the woman in the picture below because I thought her tattoo was pretty and I wanted to touch it.

(for some reason I can't upload this picture) - go to this site to view -

I am also now best friends with the bartender, Popeye (like the sailor man - I asked), who I told about my first horrifying experience at his bar.  He promised I will be under his protection if I ever choose to go back there again.  Gee, thanks Popeye...


The Guy Who Lives Above Me Is A Trapeze Instructor...That Explains A LOT

Momo and I went to a show at Webster Hall to see an old friend of mine's band perform.  Show was awesome - great music and a great time.  After their set, Momo asks where the backstage is.  The Webster Hall employee looks at her and says "It's behind the stage." Like, duh! thanks bitchy employee.  We found the backstage hung out with the band and the random cat that was back there, which hit Momo when she tried to pet it, until both of our cell phones died.  While leaving Webster Hall we were yelled at by the bouncers who said, "if you leave, you can't come back!!"  And then I got grilled as to where I was headed - they didn't believe me that I lived at "116 Webster Hall Street."
Momo and I head to my apartment where we take turns charging our phones through my computer because obviously Parker ate my cell phone charger.
.....yadda yadaa yadaa....
At the end of the night we go to Old Balls' apartment.  OB just turned 30 and I was meeting him for the very first time.  Lots of chit chat is had and I find out OB used to be a comedian and a battle of humor ensues.  He learned that I can not ride a bicycle, ice skate and that I am afraid of fish.  I learned from him that the majority of women would prefer a guy with a big dick to a guy who was good at math; but those same women would choose a guy who was funny over one with a big dick.  Were you trying to imply something comedian OB?  Ooohhh Snaap! +1 ME! The rest of the night goes smoothly and it's time to leave - what do I do? I realize I left my keys in OB's apartment.  No, it wasn't an excuse to go back up there.  Okay, fine it was.  I mean, no, it wasn't.

I get to my front steps and I see my upstairs neighbor talking with 2 police officers and I'm like umm, what's going on here?  (I was tempted to do it in the Terrance and Phillip voice from the song in Asses of Fire - SAL that was for you!!)  My neighbor, who is gay and very flamboyant, was sooo happy to see me. He said in a very fast manner,
"Oh thank you! I was locked out. Soooo embarassing! I had to ask these nice policemen to help me inside.  I just had a midnight McDonald's craving and neeeeeded to go out! So I sat locked out eating cheeseburgers and drinking beer while trying to convince the police officers that it would be okay for me to scale the apartment building because I'm a trapeze instructor"
I told him I didn't realize trapeze instructors scale apartment buildings and that I thought that was a job for Spiderman, but what do I know??  We said goodbye and good night at my floor. He thanked me again and told me I was so cute especially when I asked what was going on.
Under normal circumstances this guy would be my new best friend and I would ask for trapeze lessons (something I'm going to assume I would not be very good at it).  I mean he's gay, fabulous, lives in my building and he just complimented me.  But let me tell you a little something about Upstairs Guy.

Every night between 11:45pm and 12:15am UG has sex.  Crazy sex.  It's so crazy that not only do I hear the noises but my bed actually shakes.  Now, not only do I know it's gay sex (which I have absolutely no problem with, it just adds to the image) but I learned that one of the participants is a trapeze instructor who really thinks he's capable of scaling walls.  I don't know whether to be scarred, amused or jealous.  I do know, however, that I can't compete and that's a little depressing...-1 ME. TEAR.


Stanley, You Don't Make Enough Time For Me Anymore OR Why My Friends Are Lucky They're Pretty

Tales from this past weekend...

Meet Jessica Simpson.

I have known JS most of my life but we became close around November of 2009.  JS currently lives on the UES and has never really ventured downtown, other than to go to FiDi, before becoming friends with me.

JS came to meet myself and Momo for brunch on Saturday with our friend Cherry. This was Momo's first time meeting JS and her first time really getting acquainted with Cherry.

JS says into her cell phone "Stanley, you don't make enough time for anymore..." Momo says "Is that your boyfriend?" JS replies, no, Stanley is my hair dresser.

We decided to have brunch downtown by me because it was so nice out and I wanted to take Parker to play at the dog park.  So after lunch we go over and this, I think, was JS's first time ever stepping foot in a dog park.  She was on the phone with someone and I hear her say, "Parker's cute, he's like white with brown highlights."

Then, while on our way out of the park JS decides the scene would make for a great photo op. We ask a random stranger to take our photo - JS  says, "Can you back up a little bit, a little bit more. I'm having a fat day."  We all are SO FAR AWAY in this photo its ridiculous.

Momo needs underwear, preferably Hanky Pankys.  JS says "Momo, we are in the East Village, you have to go to at least 57th street if you want that."

As we continue towards my apartment to put my dog away so we can go to another bar, Parker starts drinking water from a communal dog bowl that a store put outside.  JS asked me how I could possibly allow my dog to drink that water, I mean, he could get herpes!!

Oh my dear, sweet Jessica Simpson you definitely are Lucky You're Pretty!!

Meet Momo.

Momo is a new friend of mine and I am really surprised she has not been blogged about yet.  We met at a mutual friend's birthday party in January and IMMEDIATELY fell in love, although I like to tell people I just randomly met her on the street and we clicked (it's a better story). Momo is totally fun, up for anything and always ready to party. She's from Ohio and has curly hair which means her name could actually be Thelma, right AB?   Her only flaw (which really isn't a flaw at all) is that she may in fact be a bigger Spaz than yours truly.

Since Momo and I became friends:

She and I have stayed at the bars wayy after last call until we are literally kicked out and the lights are on. I have learned that Momo prefers to 'pre-bar' not 'pre-game' until around 1am and stay at the bars until we are forced to leave and then have late night dinners at various 24hour joints around NYC.

She was kicked out of a bar the very same night I was; but she was in DC while I was in NY.

We ventured to DUMBO last Friday with DBall and Momo's friend Amanda and manged to have an adventure of a night.  It started with having a jerk of a cabbie take us there.  He got lost, even after admitting to us he had a navigation system and turning it on.  He also got mad at me because I wrongly assumed he was married, I mean jeez he's only 27 - Silly Me!!! Momo and DBall taught some teachers how to properly do the 'Box Step' in the bathroom at the Brooklyn bar.  I was no help in this lesson - not only can I not dance, but apparently I can't even do the 'Box Step.'  TEAR! Getting home from DUMBO would've been tricky since no cabs were coming our way, but being the lucky girls we are I spotted an Escalade with a sign saying driver.  I look at Momo, DBall and Amanda - all 3 are up for getting into this car, so we did.  Mr. Escalade Driver tried to prove he was legit by showing us a binder full of bills - in retrospect, I am not quite sure what that meant, but hey, we made it back to NYC in one piece.  Upon arrival we met up with some other friends of mine - MS, CH and MamaC.  I have to assume it was well after 2:30am but the bar was still hopping.  With "some" alcohol in her system Momo convinces the bartenders to allow her to dance on the bar.  She was doing great until the bartenders themselves took over and started doing what seemed to be a choreographed routine involving a chair and a hot dog bun that somehow got shoved into both mine and Momo's mouths.

She met Hank Muscles while we were in DUMBO and went "straight for the juggular" as he likes to say.  Momo is a teeny tiny person and she told HM that his arms were pretty much the same size has hers.  This annoyed him, I thought it was great, especially since I have been known to treat him the very same way.

She wears a necklace that has rings on it, last Saturday she manged to get one of her fingers stuck in the aforementioned rings, TWICE.

On her way to meet me at brunch last Saturday she saw a bunch of police cars lined up near 21st Street and noticed that the street was blocked off.  Being the curious little one that she is, Momo decides to inquire the policeman about what exactly is going on. They make up some story about it being a top secret mission and now she knew about it and should consider buying herself a gas mask.  The true story is there was nothing going on, my little Momo happened to wander past a police station...silly Momo...You're Lucky You're Pretty! :)


Chat Roulette - My Most Favorite Website

To be honest I am surprised at myself for not having written about www.chatroulette.com yet.  I think this website is absolutely brilliant and tons of fun.  The few times that I played around on the site have been quite entertaining.
One very humorous time in particular occurred at my friend MS's apartment.  He and I were showing a couple of our other friends what the site was all about and in the midst of "nexting" the perverts that pop-up WAY to frequently and the countless ugly girls we settled upon a semi-normal looking couple.  I say semi-normal because while the guy was just hanging out at the computer his girlfriend was sitting topless with her hands over her breasts.  We were chatting for a little when the guy noticed that my friend MS had a JETS sign in his bedroom.  He screams at us "J! E! T! S! JETS! JETS! JETS!" and as if on cue MS screams "T! I! T! S! TITS! TITS! TITS!" and to all of our surprise the girl actually flashed us before pressing "next". 
On other occasions I have had the honor of giving virtual high fives to Asians on the other side of the world, seeing people do very interesting things in the nude and at one point I had a very interesting conversation with a young guy in Sweden before we unfortunately got disconnected.
This website, which I do take some credit for introducing to my friends, has become a little bit of a cultural phenomenon. 

Check out this video from my friend WWTM - it's hilarious!



I've Got Friends In Low Places

Last Friday night, although the exact details are fuzzy, was definitely one of the craziest nights of my life - and not in a good way.

The night began with a solo, sober taxi ride to K & J's apartment which ended with me fighting with the driver because he dropped me off on 6th Avenue instead of 7th. He then proceeded to tell me that the address I gave him, one that I have been to a million times, did not exist.  So I exited the cab without paying. I was angry and did not want to give this stupid man cash and his credit card machine was not working.  I explained to him that he did not take me to where I wanted to be and therefore he did not perform the service he was hired for and should not be paid.

Anyways, I eventually found K & J's apartment and we discussed plans over their usual choice of drink - Svedka.  This particular Friday night was the type where, according to Facebook, there were no birthdays to be celebrated or other pre-planned event.  So we decided to meet SS and JS at a bar on the LES along with some other friends.

The night was fun and going smoothly until around midnight when SS and I needed to use the bathroom.  The line was very long and SS was curious as to what was behind the black curtain to our right.  Maybe it was a secret bathroom??  So I went to take a look, it was a pantry.  Having felt defeated and suddenly very tired I saw a Red Bull on one of the shelves and decided to take it.  The manager (I think it was the manager; SS thinks it was simply a bus boy) saw me and would not accept money for the drink - instead he said I needed to leave the bar IMMEDIATELY.  I suddenly find myself being physically pushed outside by this man and am truly in a complete state of shock at the absurdity of the situation as I wave bye-bye to SS.

On the way out of the bar the manager/bus boy told the three doormen not to let me back inside no matter what.  This was a problem for a few reasons; 1. It was raining, 2. I had no way to reach my friends because the bar was in a basement and they had no service, 3. I still had to pee very, very badly.

I tried arguing with the bouncer but eventually had to give up because it became very clear very fast that I was not going to be allowed back inside - not even to be "escorted" to the bathroom so I could relieve myself and then "escorted" right back out.  Giving up on an argument and accepting defeat is something that does not come easy for me as those of you that know me well can attest to.  I am a very stubborn person and not only do I not like to lose or be wrong,  but I NEVER lose and I am NEVER wrong. So it was with great effort that I succumbed to the oh so important bouncer and asked where he would recommend I use the bathroom since at that point that was all I cared about doing.  This big blob of a man looks down at little ol' me and says nothing, instead he smirks at me and just points straight ahead.  I look towards where he is pointing and accompanied with a facial expression that was a mixture of horror and disgust I say, "You have got to be fucking kidding me," because my friends, this is what I was looking at:
I looked at the bouncer, gave him my nicest smile, and through gritted teeth asked him if he could at least point my friends in the right direction when they come to find me. Because there was no way in hell that I was literally going to step foot in a bar that looked like it was inhabited by the Devil himself, without someone knowing where I was going.

I can't explain the appearance of the inside of the bar or it's customers without sounding obnoxious, but let's just say that the outside doesn't even compare to the inside. I would imagine prison to be cleaner.  I held my breath and with one hand holding tightly on to my bag and trying very carefully not to touch anything with the other, I made my way, past some of the scariest looking people I had ever seen, towards the bathroom:
A very nice guy told me that the stall through the door on the left was cleaner and that his girlfriend, who saw and understood my look of horror, would wait outside for me since sometimes the locks don't work. I opened the door and this was what I saw (this picture is taken from my cell phone; not a wesbite):
Yes, I used that toilet.  After exiting the bathroom and finding my new friends:
I offered to buy them tequilla shots as a thank you for serving as my body guards.  They decided they would call me "Chanel Girl." I smiled and went along with it out of pure fear.  They could have called me "Stupid, Ugly, Fat Idiot" and I would've been cool with it. Seriously.  This girl could have made me her Bitch like in prison and that would have been okay too.  I was terrified.  People around me were talking about how many times they had been shot.  So I was happy with my two new friends. I also made friends with a guy who resembled Silent Bob - from Jay and Silent Bob, except his beard was longer and he wore yellow aviators and kind of also looked like Ted Kaczynski, the unabomber - (I will post his pic later).  But this guy let me wear his sunglasses, I felt like I fit in more wearing them.  I think I may have been the first girl to ever speak to him in his life.  Come to think of it, he may have been more like Silent Bob than I first realized, I don't think he said one word back to me.

Then FINALLY, after what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was enough time for me to use the bathroom, buy and take very cheap, warm tequilla shots and get a hold of a stranger's aviators, my friends arrived to save me.  But being the kind of cool kids they are we didn't leave right away like you would imagine.  SS actually put her entire wallet into the Juke Box (and all of her belongings on to the bar) and we rocked out to some rock and roll tunes before making our getaway.

Now, as much fun as that was, I am sorry LES, I love you and I love NYC but I will never return to a punk bar. I just can't. I'm not lucky I'm pretty, I'm lucky I'm alive....


There Is A Difference Between Eating 'Healthy' And Eating 'Clean' ....If You're A Guido

This morning Hank Muscles and I had a rather interesting conversation about nutrition.  However, the primary focus of the conversation was how best to lose winter weight gain by summer.  When I mentioned to HM that I wanted to lose the weight I gained since last summer for this upcoming summer, his first question was
"Are you eating clean?"
I told him that I eat healthy.  HM then explained to me that eating clean and healthy are different; 'healthy' is eating healthy food while 'clean' is eating the right foods at the right time.

Read on to learn about the highly coveted never before shared Guido Diet Plan, courtesy of Hank Muscles. 


Carbohydrates and Sugars - These should only be eaten before noon and immediately before a workout for energy.

Cottage Cheese - This can be eaten right before bed because it is a very 'clean' food.  It is a slow digesting protein that actually forces your metabolism to burn through the night.  Essentially, according to HM, you lose more weight eating 1/2 a cup of CC  right before bed as opposed to eating nothing before bed.

Whole Wheat Pasta - Very healthy, but if eaten after 8pm the carbohydrates will be stored as fat while you are sleeping and your metabolism is shut down.  So if you like WWP it is better to have it with veggies for lunch than for dinner.

***Other Weight Loss Tricks***

1. HM says you should cover your meals in lemon juice or cayenne pepper because they help suppress your appetite. 
"natural appetite suppressant- now that doesn't mean u wont get hunger pangs, but it will reduce them. i make all my ckn covered in cayenne pepper...tastes like shit, but makes me think im full off of a 6oz ckn breast and 1 cup of broccoli"

2. According to HM you should also eat the minute you wake up. This is
"bc as u sleep ur body turns catabolic, so its hording fat and burning muscle to keep u alive while u sleep. so u need to eat as soon as u wake up to turn ur body from catabolic to anabolic.  meaning, have it start burning fat stores and food instead of ur muscle"  

3. HM says if you work out before eating anything you will actually be burning muscle instead of fat because there is not food in your stomach.  So if you like to work out in the morning you should
"drink some protein or eat something right b4 u leave, eat a hardbolied egg, or have a bowl of oatmeal and then run. ull burn more fat that way believe it or not. eating right after is great too, bc ur metabolism skyrockets, so whatever u eat will get burned quick".

4. Expect to lose 1-2 lbs of fat per week -
"the human liver can only process between 1-2 lbs of fat a week (i forget the exact figures) so if ur knocking off 5 lbs a week, it a mix of water, fat and muscle once all the water weights gone, then its just majority muscle"

5. Don't eat after 8pm.
"the general rule is to stop eating 3-4 hours b4 bed. girls have it easy tho u can just run and lose everything and not care. guys haveta tweak it a bit more, bc we need to lose fat and preserve muscle...i could easily drop 30 lbs in 3 months...but then ill be a scrawny twig".

So basically if you look like this, a fat guy in a little coat, now:
But want to look like The Situation by summer:

Then you should definitely follow Hank Muscles's diet plan.

A typical day in the life of Hank Muscles:
Breakfast: 2 scoops whey protein mixed with water
Mid Morning Snack (10:15): 1 can tuna straight out of the can & 1 cup brown rice
Lunch (12:30): 2 scoops whey protein mixed with 1 cup 1% milk
Gym Session (1:00): "Quick Cardio Sesh" according to HM's GChat status.
After Gym Snack (2:30):  12 Almonds
Mid Afternoon Snack (4:30): 6oz grilled chicken and 1 cup broccoli
Gym Session (5:30)
After Gym Snack: 2 scoops protein
Dinner: half cup cottage cheese and some sliced deli turkey

Boys and girls, you better get on it, only 3 months until summer!!!!  


Brad Pitt Is Ugly, I Am One Sexy Play Boy...

I have a homeless friend, Tom, that lives on my corner who always has hysterical signs.  His signs are so funny that  I can't help but give him whatever singles are in my wallet. For some reason if it's singles, be it $1 or $20, I rationalize that I am not giving this man THAT much money.  I also wondered that if he is creative enough to make such clever signs, is he really homeless?? Yes, I know, one thing really has no bearing on the other.  And that was also before I learned his story.

Homeless Man Tom is so nice.  Yesterday he helped me parallel park my car by guiding me into the spot and he is not that skivvy so I really don't mind if he plays a little bit with Parker.  HMT's shtick with the signs is that he always has a clever saying relating to something in current events (last night's had to do with the Oscars so it referenced Brad Pitt) and then he turns his sign around and it says "What is the best nation? A Donation!" My homeless buddy is a Veteran who can't get a job anywhere and spends his days trying to earn enough money so that he can  stay in some shady place off of Bowery that charges $20 a night, he says its better than the Bowery Mission.

HMT told me he was having a rough day yesterday, he only collected $5 out of the $20 he needed for that night.  I only had $2 in my wallet thanks to my guy friends who so cleverly mooch off me that I ended up with nothing after our day in Hoboken on Saturday.  Ahem, MS.

It's probably not safe to talk to the homeless, but I really feel badly.  I wish I could give this man $20 a day.  He talks about how he had to give up on being proud because he really has no other choice.  His funny signs keep him going, they show that he tries to make light of his terrible situation.
I told him yesterday how I lost my keys for the 4th time since November.  He laughed at me.  Losing my keys 4 times and talking to this man about his life really puts things in perspective, ya know?

This is not to say that I am always so aware or considerate when it comes to the homeless.  I can sometimes be so oblivious to their struggles.  I actually saw a really long line outside of what I thought was a club and  a happening party, until I looked a little closer and realized it was the Bowery Mission and I was wayyy off.  It was kind of funny, but not really.

Moral of the story is to not always judge, some of these guys are in desperate need of a dollar or two. That little bit really goes a long way for them.  HMT doesn't get mad or hurt if you don't give him money.  He says G-d Bless to you whether you do or don't and really means it.  This super nice homeless guy on my corner fought for our country and now he cant get hired anywhere and is begging for money on the streets.  His sense of humor and real kindness through it all is truly something to admire.  I don't know if I would be so fast to help a girl park her Mercedes and laugh at how SPAZZY  she is that she lost her keys 4 times in 4 months...but he does.


My Friend The Guido

My friend, Hank Muscles, is a Guido. Or, at the very least, a Guido during the summer months where he fist pumps on a regular basis at a rented house on the Jersey Shore. What I have come to learn is that some Guidos take a break from the heavy demands of their religion during the winter months and now that it is March, and summer is fast approaching, they begin to get back into action, and HM is in full force. He is both mentally and physically preparing for the upcoming summer. It is very important that he drop 12 pounds of fat before then and replace it with as many pounds of muscle as possible.

HM and I were the best of friends in college (this Guido side of him was not as obvious then). Our friendship took a short hiatus and now that we speak again I noticed that he has completely transformed into a full fledged Guido. Due to our hiatus I can not pinpoint exactly when this transformation occurred, but, because of him and his friends, I am beginning to become fascinated with the Guido lifestyle. I just can't get enough!! This is similar to my fascination with Polygamists and the Amish, but those are topics for an entirely different post.
Yesterday HM said
"damn rain fucking up my hair and shit"
- I responded
"No, you didn't just say that!"
Then around lunch time he says,
"tuna and brown rice, must be summertime"
And just now
"I just turned down a girl scout cookie...i hate summer time..."
It's this strength that is most admirable about Guidos.  You think I would ever turn down a girl scout cookie? This morning HM tried to tell me he was kind of 'metrosexual.'  Guidos are not 'metrosexual' though, they are on a completely different playing field.  While both groups tend to spend more time getting ready than I do and probably have nicer looking eyebrows than me as well, Guidos are much more about the gym, tanning and wearing graphic t's and 'metrosexual's are more about expensive clothing and dressing exactly how male models do in the latest fashion magazines, fedoras, skinny ties, etc. As I digress. Anyways back to HM..

HM fell in love at the Jersey Shore - Strike 1. I never met this girl, but from what I hear she was by no means good enough or classy enough for my Hank Muscles.  Lets call this girl Trash Bag.  TB was your stereotypical Jersey Shore girl.  From what I gather she was not very cool and not very fun to be around.  I mean she's 26 years old and still wears Roxy. I am not even sure if they sold Roxy where I am from...JK.  She also is abrasive and has a potty mouth.  HM is an amazing guy, if you can look past the Guido exterior (I'm just kidding Hank, the Guido exterior is perfect...perfectly sculpted wink wink).  But, he let TB get completely inside his head - Strike 2.  He was an amazing boyfriend and she totally sucked.  Strike 3 - he didn't dump her ass when advised to by all of his friends, and she left him first.  He was sad for a short time, but now HM is so over her and totally focused on getting ready for summer.  He is gelling his hair and going to the gym and eating all the right foods.  So ladies, and I mean all of you, because only classy girls read my blog, if you are interested in HM please feel free to let me know. 

I will keep you updated with HM and his progress of transforming from winter Guido to summer time Guido. And this summer I plan to have much more postings about the Guido religion because I will be making my second appearance ever at the Jersey Shore.  The first experience resulted in a fight at Seaside Heights, but HM and his friends assured me I will have an amazing time.

I know that I will need to buy some new clothes because my current style is not appropriate for the masses that I will be with.  HM is going to teach me how to fist pump, imagine a SPAZ like me trying to fist pump? I can barely walk in a straight line.  After that, all I will need is a nickname of my very own.  I kind of like LWoww, but I think Jenny may get mad at me for stealing her idea, and we can't have that happening...


Vainglorious - My New Favorite Word - Surprised?

I am just kidding about really liking the word 'vainglorius.'
However, some might say it's egocentric to create a blog about your own life and only blog about yourself. So, beginning with my next entry, and as a stolen idea from a good friend ND, I will be incorporating humorous and zany stories from the lives of some of my close friends. This will be done through the use of aliases in order to maintain anonymity. (With their permission of course).
For life is simply a series of events like scenes in a movie and, in the movie that is my life, there are many co-stars that contributed to making me the SPAZ that I am and they shall be honored ever so kindly.


On a serious note my thoughts and prayers go out to the Licursi family and the Langhamer family.

I Lost My Yellow Aura And I Want It Back!!

I've always had a strong conviction for the Buddhist belief in Karma, the idea of What Goes Around Comes Around and what Oprah refers to as The Law of Attraction.  So it comes as no surprise to me that when I am nice good things happen and when I am mean bad things happen. 
In case you are interested,the days leading up to yesterday, I am happy to report, were SPAZ incident free. It is possible, according to my beliefs, that I was lucky because I had been an uncharacteristically nice person towards everyone around me.  Which leads me to conclude that yesterday was just plain awful because I was not so kind. 

I would like to take this opportunity to confess to some of the terrible horrible no good very bad stuff that I did yesterday.  But being Jewish, albeit secular, I do take Yom Kippur, my people's most religious day and our 1 DAY of atonement, very seriously,  I am left with no choice but to do what Jesus, a Jew, would do and use this blog as confessional.

1.  I poked fun at my friend SAL and told him, basically, that he was a SPAZ and that falling off a chairlift is something that Brian Boitano,the greatest olympic skater, would never do.
2.  I made way too much fun of the cast of the Jersey Shore.
3.  I also hated a little bit too much on the country of Canada. 

Now of course I realize that there are natural disasters occurring much too frequently these days, and by no means am I trying to say that my day yesterday is even remotely comparable, but it still effing sucked. Here's what happened in no particular order...
1.  I parked my car and then drove it into one of those cement things that are sometimes in front of parking spots so that you can't drive forward.
2.  I walked down 1 flight of my stairs with just a bra on - luckily no one saw me.
3.  I came a little to close to stepping in what I am pretty sure was human feces during my transfer to the JMZ train from the 6 at Canal Street.
4.  I fell walking UP the stairs to my apartment and have a really sexy bruise on my left shin.
5.  Sat in more traffic than ever before on the Williamsburg Bridge on my way back into Manhattan after work.
6.  I bought a diet coke at Duane Reade - it came to $2.22 - I only had $2.21 and the young man with corn rows gave me an unexpected hard time about the missing penny.

To clear my self of this bad Karma spell and to make my aura glow its brightest yellow I would like to apologize for my harsh words.
SAL - I am sorry for saying you are not as graceful as Brian Boitano. I realize he is g-dlike, almost celestial and that no normal human being can be compared.
Snookie - I am sorry for saying, and not meaning it, that I was going to purchase a "Bump It" so my hair would look like yours.
JWoww - I really do like your clothes, that was honest. Okay fine, maybe it wasn't.
Canada - I'm sorry - for everything.

Please let today go smoother....

To quote my dearly departed Great Grandmother Henrietta Leib (LS do you remember this?)
"There was a little girl, who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead,
And when she was good, she was very, very good,
But when she was bad she was horrid.

She stood on her head, on her little trundle bed,
With nobody by for to hinder;
She screamed and she squalled, she yelled and she bawled,
And drummed her little heels against the winder.

Her mother heard the noise, and thought it was the boys
Playing in the empty attic,
She rushed upstairs, and caught her unawares,
And spanked her, most emphatic. "
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. (American poet, 1807-1882)