Cloud 9 aint higher than Cloud 69 for a reason

•May 28, 2008 • Leave a Comment

Yes, I’ve recovered from my road test humiliation. But a new humilition befell me: the dreaded phone stolen during a drunken bonding pub crawl with some friends. I won’t go into details as it’s not very interesting or unique for a drunken gayboy to lose a phone or jacket or umbrella or bag on a barhopping adventure. I was just sad that yet again I didn’t find a cute boy to kiss. I spent Memorial day hung over, phoneless and manless. I don’t think Mama would be proud. Especially since she has secretly been hoping for me to establish partnership with a nice ‘nubian’ man and needling my sister for details of this phantom relationship. It’s all very strange.  Then my mind wonders to the Ocean Ave South Beach breeze and I just know I’ll find someone to get me all hot and bothered (not too bothered because I’m ornery and cops may need to be involved, I grew up in the ghetto South…don’t try me bitches). Anyway, I’m just rambling now and sleepy after watching a subpar gay comedy on Heretv and feel sad because the lame lead character got the hot ex-closeted guy with the mesh football jersey spouting poorly written dialogue…but still I’m jealous. And alone….and 30 lbs overweight…and peniless. The Bulgarian says you are never poor if you have love and the basics. But that chick hadn’t been to my shack back in Bama in the 1990s. So I’ll disregard her pie in the sky anecdotes and go dream of hot menz.

Road Kill Test

•May 24, 2008 • Leave a Comment

Well, I failed the road test. I’m not surprised. It took Chinese fried chicken wings with french fries, a pint of Haagen Daas Rocky Road ice cream and a tylenol PM to calm me down. I had a good instructor and can parallel park and three point turn like there’s no tomorrow. It’s my observation skills that need a little work. So I failed. But it’s not over. Florida’s driving test should be easier.  And, unlike my driver’s ed course 15 years ago, I didn’t almost hit a cat. That’s a step up, right? Don’t judge me!

Parallel Parking, You done me wrong

•May 21, 2008 • Leave a Comment

It was  perilous driving lesson today.  I think my driving instructor has had it with me. I know how to parallel park and three point turn but I always overthink it. When I stopped overthinking it, I made the straightest parallel park known to him…so he says. Then then the three point turn came to me in a foggy dream and called out to me, “Do it, you idiot!”.  I’m petrified of the road test because I can’t seem to calm down when it comes to parking.  Driving doesn’t bother me but parking does.  Anybody can stop at a stop sign but who can get within 8 inches of the curb in parallel parking.  I wonder how strict my road test administer will be. Will she flunk me? Will she hit me with her clip board and throw me from the moving car? Will I ever recover? Stay tuned folks.

The Vortex of Lefferts Place

•May 19, 2008 • Leave a Comment

My apartment is so empty that I wanted to cry. To calm my heart, I ate a pint of breyers chocolate ice cream from the Family Dollar Store. It didn’t do much for my diet but it was sinfully delicious.  But I’m getting ahead of myself. Sunday started out grand. The buyers were finally biting again. I got a buyer right away for the portable AC. I was weired out when I called back the number and they didn’t know who he was but I think he used a different email name than his real name. I would have been intrigued by the intrigue but I just wanted the damn thing out. Some cute guy dressed in doctor’s scrubs showed up and after asking a ridiculous amount of questions and having me plug it up and run exhaust in my living room, he bought the thing. Then later an Alabamian couple showed up. The only bought my bamboo place matts but at least they were pleasant. They just moved here 3 days ago. Oh, to have the freshness of the first NYC smog in my lungs to wisk me away to days of yore. I can’t wait to get on the beach bitches!

Did you not see the stop sign?

•May 18, 2008 • Leave a Comment

My driving lesson went 100% better than I thought it would. My driving instructor was very patient and calm. I was not. I was shaking like a NYC chihuahua on a January walk. Still I persevered. I kept driving through stop signs. I paid close attention to the stop lights but glossed over the stop signs just as regular NYC drivers do. I better get on board. Only 5 days til my driving test. I can’t wait though because I want to get it over with. I just can’t believe that I drove as well as I did. I forgive my driving instructor for being 15 minutes late but I don’t forgive him for making me park in some random lot that had the narrowest parking spaces I’ve ever seen. I’m surprised the car even fit. Still, on to the next lesson (a double lesson). I’m almost sure I’ll be parallel parking my way to hell. Wish me luck kiddies!

Intellect is expensive, stupidity is free

•May 17, 2008 • Leave a Comment

I’ve been dealing with Craigslist again. I want to say that things are slightly better but the morons who just bought my bed frame need their IQs checked. First, I asked listed the bed as best offer with a price but still they decided to ask me how much to pay. I should have said 2,000 euros and see if they would go to the money exchange. Then they asked me how many trips they would have to take to load the unassembled frame. I should have said “If you’re an octopus, 1 trip. If not, 8 trips.” Then they asked me if I had a dresser to sell them even though it wasn’t listed in the ad. I had a bridge I could sell them but I’m sure they don’t want it. They also asked what other items I had for sale. Of course all those items were listed in the same posting as the bed and have been for 2 weeks but any one could have missed it. Helen Keller…Stevie Wonder…anyone. I still have a few items left to sell but I think I have to request that they take both a street smarts test and IQ test before I can give them my number and address. Otherwise, I going to snap. Just wanted to share.

She didn’t cut me, so I like her

•May 16, 2008 • Leave a Comment

The Bulgarian has grown on me. No, I don’t mean like a lung-eating mold but more like a barnacle, which is harmless. She treated me and my coworker to lunch today. I was very excited to chump down on my take-out chili con carne burrito and tortilla chips. However, as always, her overbearing nature took over.  She wanted desserts and we were to have desserts with her or else.  So I walked down to Bread Factory to get her requested pastries to avoid the wrath of my scary Armenian one.  Unfortunately, it’s been raining all day but she somehow felt perturbed that I had gotten her papers wet when I sat the bag down on her desk. Still, it was nice of her to treat us to the forced lunch per her tradition. Still, I’m petrified of her and I plan to buy mace before last day. I must state, in her defense, that the canoli was delicious.

And I’ll bet we’ll be together for a million more

•May 15, 2008 • Leave a Comment

Who knew the theme song to Family Ties would be so prophetic. Cockroaches had invaded my apartment in January and slowly enacted a coupe that had me scared to get out of bed. One day I came home and they had packed my clothes and pointed me towards the door. Granted, roaches have been around for millions of years but I’m paying the rent on this crib. Basically, they had to go. So I brought in a series of toxins to combat the roaches. Unfortunately, the roaches haven’t survived for millenia by caving to a few roach baits and some boric acid.  I felt like I was living in Joe’s apt and I couldn’t escape the creeping feeling that they were eating more food than I was. With grocery prices so high, I fumed. One day, though, an angel walked into my life by the name of our company receptionist and recommended a sinister gel that would extinguish them. I was a bit skeptical of quick fixes as I had almost died of respiratory failure from the boric acid and the stories of roaches dancing on her Sonic Roach repellant plug in had seeped into my psyche. Fortunately, the receptionist had an exterminator friend who know better. Within two weeks, gone…no need to pack bags. They didn’t make it that far. Still, I wonder if they will survive this instectaggedon. I hope the new tenants have strong stomachs and airtight food containers…

If you don’t have a vijay-jay, you can’t wear those jeans

•May 14, 2008 • Leave a Comment

I had the honor of sitting in front of a ghettofabulous lady in artery choking jeans.  Another name for these wonderful circulation killers is low rise.  I’m not going to pretend to be a novice in the world of tight jeans. I like a good pair of butt-hugging jeans as much as the next person but this was a little extreme. I could see every bodily curve of everything below the waist. If I were a hetero, I would have been in heaven. But I’m not so it was disturbing and it lasted the entirety of the 20 minute ride.  I tried to close my eyes, but all I could see was tight hot mess. I can’t wait to be darting around Miami in my car by myself…vijay-jayless.


•May 14, 2008 • Leave a Comment

I just helped the buyers for my futon figure out how to get the damn futon downstairs. It was unfortunate. This time, it was the futon and the wacked out architecture of this building that was the culprit. The buyer had cash, was determined to make the futon’s wide dimensions work but her Irish boyfriend drew the unlucky straw. The way this building is built, you would think only Barbie furniture would fit. And there’s an excessive line of sprinkler pipes. They even lined the top of the stairwell ceilings. I bet that Irishmen was wishing this buiding was in violation of the fire code as he huffed and puffed trying to pivot around it. We even had to ask the neighbor to open his door so we had room to move turn the futon. I’m glad to be rid of that futon and the 5 lbs of water weight I loss from the heaving lifting/sweating. Still, I’ll miss that lumpy old futon. It was my third futon in NYC but it was also my favorite.  I spent many nights tossing and turning, praying for a chiropractor (preferably a hot one like those Craiglist ‘masseuses’) to come and knock out the knots. Fairwell good futon…Just got paid…Tuesday night…Party pumpin’…