"There's Some Gunk on My Shoes, Baby-eeaah-ee!"...Shit, Even Writing I Can't Hold a Tune

Today, while I was smoking outside on 27th, I noticed my shoes had become atrocious since the lastest winter blowout that hit the tri-state area. I thought about getting them shined at Penn Station on my way home, but then thought: Maybe I should buy some better shoes first. It's embarrissing in New York to find out that even your shoes aren't worth spit. There's nothing more humbling than seeing a shoe shiner grimace when shining the shoes on your feet. I mean, it's not as if I was going to ask if he enjoyed it, and expected to hear, "I've had better." However, that would be pretty terrible. In fact...shit! Now I'm definately not getting my shoes shined.

Welcome to New York!

One problem with living slightly above the poverty line in the tri-state area is that you still feel like an asshole when you're walking in the city and you pass one of those tables with the jugs for donations to the homeless, but you know that if you gave you'd be right where they are. After I gave my last five dollars, I'd have to exchange seats with the guy and ask for my money back.

Yes, they continue to move the cheese. Sadly, it's never towards my mouth.

Another Note on the "Starving Artist" Idea

How can anyone really be a starving artist? When I'm starving I can't even think; unless, it's about food of course. You'd think there'd be more paintings of meatloaf, or possibly, a burger and fries. The center piece of the starving artist's exhibit at MOMA, a block of cheddar cheese. Professor's could stand around conversing: "This artist never made it during his lifetime. Sadly, this was his last piece of work." Others in the chorus: "breathtaking. Simply magnificient."

Hungry Artist, Maybe. Come on! Who's starving? Really?! Starving?

Someone referred to me as a starving artist today. I replied: No, I'm simply starving. Luckily, that was enough to get him to buy me lunch. That seems like a Woody Allen joke to me.

A Note on the Current Sexy Situation

Listen. No one can bring Sexy back: it was Sexy's decision to leave, and no one knows that better than Sexy. When she decides to get off her lazy ass and come back to work she can. We all know Sexy doesn't work that hard; therefore, Sexy does not deserve an escort. So all these famous stars can attempt to evoke Sexy with there one lined catch-phrases all they want, cause Sexy will simply treat there proclamations like a welfare-mother treats an alarm-clock and simply hit snooze. Why try? If there's one thing about Sexy, it is that she always seems to get what she wants.

Ten Reasons I Feel I'm "Utterly Jersey"

1. I find woman who wear bronzer and too much eyeliner attractive.

2. Most of the girls I went to college with looked like Tara Reid (and ironically had similar drinking habits).

3. I feel high property taxes are ok if they finance keeping such an aesthetically pleasing state.

4. I'm ok with Newark, but Irvington is just out of hand.

5. To me, there's only one city and it isn't freakin' Philadelphia.

6. I don't know anyone who doesn't pay too much for a bad haircut.

7. I can't sleep without the sounds of airplanes soaring overhead.

8. I find proselytizing in the classroom agreeable, right Kearny!

9. Parsippany is tantamount with the wildwest (you mean, it's past Montclair?!).

10. And finally, I only smoke when I drink, but I'm willing to stand outside in the cold to do so.

Honest Answers to Cliche'd Questions

If you could have dinner with anyone in the world, alive or dead, who would it be?

--Anyone willing to keep quiet while I stuff my face. When did dinner become all about Q & A?

Do you believe in miracles?

--I'd start if you'd stop speaking.

Is there a God?

--Sure there is. Next, you'll ask me if there's an Easter Bunny. Jesus! Are you kidding?!

All Through the House, Not a Creature was Stirring Except for the Ax-wielding maniac and his Involuntary Prey. "Listen, that's how I remember it, ok!"

Wow, what a fantastic idea for a movie! I bet the killer's Jewish...Just remember I called it. I'm simply looking forward to certain catch-phrases and expressions I'm sure will be in abundance in this film, such as "Merry fucking Christmas mother fucker!" Or, "enjoy the birth of our saviour you son-of-a-bitch!" And then someone gets pumped full of lead. (I love that, pumped full of lead. It's just become apparent to me that I don't get to say things like that as much as I'd like) How about, "and a happy (protagonist sticks bad-guy with long metal pole) fucking (protagonist twists long metal pole, while its imbedded in bad-guy's stomach) new year (protagonist lets go of pole--realizing bad-guy is dead--and falls backwards, breathing heavily) you crazy fuck! I know I love it. Again, remember I called it. And the bad-guy's final retort could be "baaaaaaaah huuUUUuuum buuuug (and then his head twists so that he's not facing the camera): genius.