New York Pics. Part Two.
This whole walking thing that you New Yorkers do is lame. I'll drive a half-block in my air-conditioned car any day.
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I was around some funny motherfuckers this past weekend in New York. Quite a few of you read their blogs, so you know this already. Anyway there were several occasions where I laughed so damn hard that I tore my intestinal lining and shitted blood:
1. Watching Alex (lexxy_pie) casually flick his lit cig onto Paul's (naka_chan) sandal-wearing feet as we were walking to dinner, then watching Paul scream and dance the Jig o' Pain as the lit embers swirled between his toes.
2. A wide-eyed Kirk (captredstar) asking in a very startled voice, "He shat on her?!?"
3. Paul informing me and Henry (smokedpanda) at PS1, "You see that girl in the white nurse's dress? The one trying to dance all sexy? She's really making me angry."
4. A girl rubbing Alex's bald head at a bar, causing him to flutter his eyelids in ecstacy and pretend to jerk-off.
5. The Chupacabra.
6. Rain (hipstomp) beating a sleeping homeless man to the brink of death with a shoe, screaming "I fricking can't wait another minute for the season premier of Lost!"
7. I was told by the guys that after last call at this one club, I began to jog in circles around the half-empty dance floor. I suppose it must've been really funny, because the silly whores wouldn't stop bringing it up for the rest of the trip.
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PS1. It's a former elementary school where MOMA displays its edgier work. And by edgier, I mean I wouldn't leave any of the artists alone in a room with a sharp object. Every Saturday afternoon during the summer, PS1 hosts this huge outdoor party called Warm Up. While they were very lukewarm about the music and dancing hipsters, the guys in our group were very big fans of the hot hipster girls, falling in love every four minutes.
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Don't know why, but we drank a surprisingly large amount of Patron in New York - except for Alex, who insisted on ordering Lemon Drops, which he would then use to douche his vagina.
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Train. Rain.
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There's a reason for our facial expressions. And I'm not gonna tell you.
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I think after the third or fourth picture taken on the trip, I just got plain bored with smiling for cameras. And it appears that I also got bored with looking un-sweaty and un-oily.
*All of these were taken with Paul's camera, which obviously bears some sort of grudge against me.
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Thanks to a high school volleyball injury, my left thumb can bend backward like the hammer on a pistol, or the monkey whose spine I shattered when my pan-roasted sea bass was undercooked. It looks like I shot Kirk in the eye with my finger gun, causing him to turn into a pirate.
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