Brookyn Botanical Gardens...biotch!
Aug 25, 06
Godspeed!
This past Saturday, the lovely girlfriend Karen went to the beach with her friends Po, Peter, Mauricio, Qian & Sara. I was working (like usual), but I got out as they were all coming back from Long Island(?), so the lovely girlfriend Karen, Po, Peter & Mauricio came back to our apartment for some home-cooked ziti, meatballs and the kind of company you deserve after a hard day at work/beach/wherever.
ANYWAYS, even though we spent the evening strapped to the couch watching the JonBenet Ramsey upheaval over the freaky guy who came forward (that and The Cosby Show...who knew a combination like this existed?), it was altogether awesome times four.
Godspeed!
So, this past Monday, the lovely girlfriend Karen and I were invited to my friend Poker Chris's loft in downtown Brooklyn to sort-of celebrate his upcoming birthday (35? 36?) and partake in his filming of a short fictional film he's working on called "Partychild".
So, we walked over to his place and hung for a bit while his friends were all getting into gear to start acting (though no one could spot the "motivation" aside from booze, boobs, and contact high). ANYWAYS, his pal Sergio was spinning and a lot more people were ALLEGEDLY supposed to be popping by, but many many many were no-shows.
The lovely girlfriend got all doll'ed up (as seen below), but we ended up leaving within the 90 minute mark of staying late enough to be considered party-goers but early enough to realize that I had work massively early the next morn.
Okay, so click on the lovely girlfriend to check out a few pics, and you can go right here for more on the one, the only, the (in)famous Poker Chris.
Godspeed!
P.S. Click here for an exclusive look at a snippet from Partychild, directed by Poker Chris.
PARTIES:
New York Night Train Presents:
Ian Svenonius and Calvin Johnson
Monday, August 21, 11 PM
Monkeytown, 58 N 3rd St, Brooklyn
FREE Admission
Tuesday, August 22, 9 PM
sub-Tonic, 107 Norfolk, Manhattan
FREE Admission
Godspeed!
So today, while the lovely girlfriend Karen and I were sitting in our living room watching the idiot box, we spotted a number of flies in our apartment...so I, in my valiant efforts, ran out to the store, got some RAID and started spraying.
After that, I suggested we leave to let the air fumigate, dissipate and eradicate, and we walked out the door. Click. SHIT!!!! We were locked out. FUCK. Here's the situation. Our landlords are on vacation. In Maine. I call and try and find them at the "resort", but the front desk person says that he can leave a message for them at the office (?) but there are no phones in the individual cabins. Are you serious?
(*please not that while the following is transpiring, the lovely girlfriend Karen is sitting there, calm like a Hindu cow, telling me all the "bright-sided-ness" of the situation we were currently in)
We called my father to log onto the lovely girlfriend Karen's email address to get the neighbors' number that our landlords left for us, but they only had the keys for our landlords' unit door, not ours. DOUBLE SHIT.
I call my father again and got an 800 number for a locksmith. $300 (Karen's for now until I pay her back...my broke-ass) and an hour and a half later, here we are, back inside, sweeping up dead flies, letting a strange 20-something Israeli ex-pat break our lock to get back into our own apartment.
The remains:
Aesop says "You better learn from mistakes or you'll end up wishing you had a hammer, a screwdriver, and a drill. Then mistakes mean nothing. You can't get arrested for breaking & entering your own apartment. Or can you?"
Godspeed!
Proof positive that p!o!p-kids are the sweetest, weirdest, best-and-worst-hair-having, sincerest, melodious, and, quite possibly, most humorous people on the face of God's green Earth. Especially if their from Sweden and not from BARCELONA.
Godspeed!
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