so i went to the mets game on saturday with mike and his friend dr. paul. this was my first visit to shea stadium so i was pretty excited to visit the home of my ill-chosen childhood hero darryl strawberry. upon arriving i was a bit disappointed. i was expecting a cadre of food vendors hawking things to cheaply fill my stomach like they do at safeco but instead all we found were a crappy credit card sign up booth (in exchange for a life full of indentured financial servitude you get a thin piece of cloth posing as a fleece blanket) and a mets "fan zone" consisting of mr met acting like a jackass.

so inside we go to proceed to blow a bangladeshi child's yearly salary on hot dogs and beers. i'm not sure how many i had but i can tell you that the self proclaimed "drunk irish" chick sitting behind me had at least 3x as much as i did. we were clearly surrounded by a few dozen young impressionable children but this girl had no problem spitting out a flow of encouragement to the opposing team laced with the terms "f****n fa**ot", "p***y ass whore" and "f***n p***y ass whore fa**ot". not one person told her to shut up and i counted at least 4 voices of kind words from others egging her on to keep it going for 4 innings straight (her voice gave out after 3). between the beer/inning consumed and the loving words of a good irish woman i forgot who won the game and had to go check it online the next morning. i heart nyc.

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So I'm IMing with a good friend of mine who's about to have a kid and the following transcript was about the funniest thing i've heard all day:

San Toki says:
u getting ready for this kid
Baby Daddy X says:
tryin to
Baby Daddy X says:
shit...we just moved in together...and that shit takes some gettin used to
San Toki - in nYc says:
yeah i hear ya
Baby Daddy X says:
and she has a dog...so i'm family guy now
San Toki - in nYc says:
holy shit mon frere
Baby Daddy X says:
insta-family
Baby Daddy X says:
just add sperm

haha......love it.

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screeeeeeeeeeeeechhhhhhhhhhhhh. my life is trying to slow down but the brakes are bad. i knew i should have changed them 6 months ago but instead i blew the money on records and cards. i have work clamoring at me day and night (couldn't break up with her yet, she made me a delicious casserole the other night which reminded me why i started with her in the first place) and here i am with 2 weeks to go before i have to move and nowhere to live.

for those of you that don't know looking for an apt in nyc is about as fun as watching courtney love trying to prove she's much more then a coked out whore/crappy musician on the pamela anderson roast....so painful.

so here i am... the plump, fat ass newman in jurassic park renter. there they are, the cute lil dilophasaur other renters that chirp and smile all harmlessly at me until they spit acid in my eye and scoop the place up and then proceed to peck me to death. then there's the big t-rex rental brokers. these carnivores prey on stupid renters that only have 2 weeks left to find a place who charge you a left arm and right teste to find a place.

this movie sucks....except for jeff goldblum of course. his words make me feel like that my life will find its way out of this.

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so i figured i'm on a roll and after a week of pickling my liver, why stop now. after a few beers i met up with some more friends at a hooka bar down in the LES. i walked in and was instantly transported to a couple years ago, hovering around the cubby table at the 707 with seth and arturo and then waking up on the floor in an outline of totinos crumbs with both of my roommates sprawled on the couches and the main menu of the animatrix dvd stuck in a repeating playback mode.

but tonight would not put me into that sweet soft slumber.... no, tonight would just be a slightly tipsy night of passing around the hooka filled with the "pharoh's sweet summer" or something like that. i will tell you that the pharoh is a sick bastard. i definitely do not smell or feel like a sweet summer but instead feel like i need a 45 min scalding hot shower and a pipe cleaner for my lungs.

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In Toronto. Battling with the whore in my current relationship called work. She refuses to let me go out and play tonight calling me back to finish where I left off with her and to put more into this comittment.

I'm thinking about dumping the broad but need to do it gently as she's a bit of a crier.

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Newark Lab Experiment 1

i. Goal of Experiment: Attempt to determine if a connecting flight can be made in 30 minutes at Newark Liberty International Airport
ii. Hypotheses: A 75% probability exists that the flight will be late in arriving. In addition a 80% probablity exists that the connecting flight will be late in taking off leading to a damn good chance that the flight will be made.
iii. Theoretical Principle: Boyle's Newark Airport Blows Nuts Law will be utilized. The formula is as follows: S=(i*c)/((p*d)*100)
S= Suckage
i = incoming flight arrival time
c= connecting flight arrival time
p = number of pilots
d = blood alcohol level
iv. Materials:
1 737
1 shitty puddle jumper,
1 Newark Airport
1 Passenger (X)
1 black suitcase, carry on w/ 1 broken wheel and a broken handle
1 full laptop bag, weight 12.7 lbs
1023 obstacles (tourists/travellers/strollers/porters can be used)
v. Results:
- Inbound 737 flight from Seattle-->Newark arrives 10 minutes early.
- Tarmac delay for 30 minutes leaves 10 minutes to catch connecting "shitty puddle jumper" flight.
- Unexpected factor - 1023 obstacles within Newark Airport are mobile with high entropy causing pre-defined path to be recalculated causing a 0.37 factor increase in connection gate distance.
- Passenger X observed running at a mean speed of 12.4 mph through Terminal C at Newark Airport.
- Passenger X arrivess at connection gate in 9 minutes leaving 1 minute of time to catch scheduled connection flight.
- Connection flight (as hypothesized) is late by 2 hours.
- Passenger X makes connecting flight.
vi. Conclusion: "Boyle's Newark Airport Blows Nuts Law" holds true. In addition an unexpected result was discovered, Passenger X has become "That Guy".
*That Guy: The sweaty, huffing and puffing smelly mess of a man who has been able to draw that unwanted attention of over 37 people simultaneously. (AKA: Wasted Guy, Obnoxious Guy, That Dick and Who the Fuck Was That Guy"

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So after failed attempt 1 at this whole blogging thing I've decided to give this whole thing another try. As a warning this will probably be failed attempt number 2 which will lead to another month of silence on this thing followed by failed attempt number 3.

The inspiration for this was fueled by all the lovely folks I met here in Seattle this week. After beer feuled conversations of rusty hooks, teddy bears and peeing in bathtubs (how'd that happen???) I thought that I could use a way to try to improve my non-literary skills, let people know where I am today....or as another outlet for me to hear the sound of my own voice.

Regardless, I'll do my best to update where I am and detail on how much I hate Avis shuttles and how much I love the Sweet Sleeper bed.

tks to all who have put up with my liver failing ass here in Seattle this weekend. You have all supplied more ammo to my "Why Seattle Rocks Gun". From Block Party's with popsicles to degenerate behavior with Seth to getting scared by passing bikers with Alli and finally to the breakfast of rice and beans that was 1/10 the price of Arturo's "good morning tequila" I am weepily reminded of the goodness of Seattle and my friends that use it as an alcoholics depot. As for now, I'm in Seattle, it's gorgeous and I'm out.....peas.

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