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Dear Woman Who Called Me An Idiot This Morning,

There was no need for name calling at 845am as we did the who is going left and who is going right shuffle near the turnstiles at the 23-Ely station. You called me an idiot, and I’m glad that I called you an idiot right back to you. As I walked through the turnstile I heard you yell again about how I should have passed on the right.

Let me remind you of a how events transpired…

I saw you walking from the G line with your manly trucker from the Midwest walk, with that angry sour face of yours. I noticed that with your larger body size you appeared as though you could probably beat up many men in NYC, and I wondered if you possibly lost the remote control in your underwear while you we getting dressed this morning, I saw that it could have easily have gotten lost in one of your rolls. I went to pass you on the right, and you made a move for the left, my right. So we both shuffled side to side for a split second. Then I passed you on the right while you huffed and said, “You’re an idiot.” To which I responded, “You’re an idiot too.” Lame comeback on my part I know. So let me apologize for not being on the verbal assault ball this morning. Then you proceeded to walk about 10 feet turn around and yell back, “You should have passed on the right!”

This was mighty presumptuous of you. How would you have known that I wasn’t from Europe? Huh? They pass on the left. If I was from Europe I might have been highly insulted at your assumption that I was an American.

I realize that this shuffle caused some physical exertion on both our parts, but I would like to remind you that you are the size of a Midwestern housewife from Chicago with five kids who eats sausage like its going out of style. You probably enjoyed the experience much less than I did due to your breaking a sweat from shuffling, which is a sweat that went on top of your normal, I sweat when I’m walking sweat. Don’t worry; this sweat is actually a good thing for your case if you want to live into old age. I would like to remind you that society doesn’t see old fat people. One could ponder that this is caused from the decades of shame of allowing yourself to balloon into the size of a baby cow, and that old fat people that are the size of baby cows lock themselves inside all day long. Or, one might assume that people like you Ms. Grumpy In The Morning Name Caller, who are the size of baby cows die while eating bologna sandwiches, all alone in the middle of the night. Such a sad fate you appear to have.

Now let me take a moment to insult your going to your work situation. I’ll assume that you either live, or work off of the G line. You take the G train! You are one of the fools who are actually able to take the G train, and get somewhere that you actually need to go? This wasn’t one of those, “Oh a friend of mine just moved off the G line and I need to go visit their mistake of an apartment moments.” You actually waste my tax dollars with your loser subway line, just so you can either live or work off the filthy rat infested G line. I shame you Ma’am. I shame you.

After I wrote this I realize that you were most likely mean to me this morning due to you just being a mean person in everyday life. I’ll assume that you are one of those angry people from that did not grow up in NYC and are angry about life, and who are mean to everyone, but decided to move to NYC where it’s so big that no one will notice the sad existence in which you wallow. Let me bring it to your attention that I noticed you for the sad and pathetic individual that you are. Which most likely have been caused by years of bad decisions, and mistakes that you regret day to day. I pity you, and am glad that I am not you. Now, go drown your sorrows out in an Egg McMuffin, or two. Happy foods make happy thoughts, for a moment.

I’m going to go back to the land of happy thoughts, and life. I’ll be sure to send you a postcard.

P.S. For the record I have nothing against overweight people, or women in general. This person happened to be female, and the size and look of a baby cow.

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Weekends Are Supposed To Be Great!

This weekend was one of those weekends that leave you feeling fulfilled and happy about your doings, yet exhausted by them all the same.

Abridged Version:

Sushi, rode in a jeep to see real live hillbillies, IKEA, slept, overslept, great weather, Intrepid, nephews, slept again.

Unabridged Version:

Went out for sushi Friday night, and didn’t feel like ordering the usual Dragon, Alaska, Boston roll combo with Miso soup, then somehow I ended up ordering three different types of salmon rolls. Ewww, but good at the same time, eww is for lack of brain functionality of having ordered no variations of fish. We sat next to two young women who looked like they were getting ready for “a night out downtown”. Meaning they were looking to snort as much blow as possible, have a nasty* hook up with anyone with coke, and call it a good night. It was fun to watch them salivate their noses by eating their sushi.

*Nasty meaning good ole fashioned humpty sex, but not good quality hook up sex.

Got up at the crack of 1030am to finally go out and have breakfast at that really good breakfast place on Washington in Prospect Park. Delicious.

Hoped in a jeep, peeled back all the windows, had the air blowing all over on a perfectly clear day, with temperatures just perfect, and as I was driven over the Brooklyn Bridge to Manhattan without traffic I though to myself that this was great, and it was. We (Cheese, Lesty, and the Other Cheese) were on our way to the IKEA of Paramus, NJ. NJ isn’t the best place to go to, but Ikea makes it worth the trip.

For all those Jerzey folk who know how to read, don’t be insulted, it’s mainly that there are way too many highways that go in circles, and the bricks of your fair state are all yucky brown. I’m thinking most of the bricks in your state were made with the sand that runs along the Kills in between NJ and Staten Island, NY. They are just unappealing to me. So go suck an egg ugly brick state!

Before Ikea, we needed to stop at a really big camping supply store. It was cool for the most part. There were real live hill billies, old bald men who parked in a Mercedes convertible, way too many tents, and people who actually knew the difference, and lots of cool little things that I found way too cool, and let all these localyocales know that I am in fact not “from round these parts”. I soon became way too overwhelmed by my senses of seeing all these cool things that I just needed to get some fresh air. Which I did, but only after I bought a really cool thermal bag, that holds up to 30 cans plus ice, and which also has a good strap to carry over the shoulder, and not in the hands. Perfect for picnics to the secret Island, and places that I’d like to go and not be surrounded lots of people.

These places shall remain nameless, cause I want it kept secret, so that they don’t become as crowded as Central Park.

IKEA!

The land of cheap furniture and little items for sale that I don’t really need, yet are compelled to purchase. I love Ikea. I want to have a huge party there one day, or, if you are throwing a party, why not see if you can have it at Ikea, and invite me. I just want to hang out in their room displays and have a couple of drinks, conversation, and relax. Lots of perfectly lit living rooms, dining rooms, beds, couches, kitchens, everything! I just want to see the craziness ensue from an Ikea party. Don’t think I’m a little looney for this, but just about everyone gets excited on the idea of going to Ikea, an Ikea party would most likely end up with one wild orgy. This Ikea even had a live band playing at the registers – I’ve only been to two Ikea stores, is this something new at all of them? Either way it was cheese to the max, and Upper Jersey to the max. Loved it!

I even spotted the one and only Curtis Scagnetti on line 20 at Ikea.

Got back to Brooklyn, crash napped, had one of cheeses delicious sandwiches. She really makes some of the best sandwiches that I’ve ever had, ever! Then I got home, and crashed again. My mind must have had an overload from all the great things that New Jersey had to offer, if you get believe such an oxymoron. I was so exhausted that I slept through Ms. Cheese ringing my doorbell, twice. My doorbell isn’t one of the dingdongs. My doorbell has fluff, and lots of it. It’s an obnoxious 15 seconds of the entire floor ringing bells, letting me know that someone is at my door. I finally was awakened by the phone and had this conversation.

Cheese: Where are you?
Beehive: I’m home, where are you?
Cheese: I’m here!
Beehive: Where?
Cheese: At your place.
Beehive: I don’t see you anywhere. Where are you?
Cheese: I’m outside on your front steps.
Beehive: What are you doing out there?
Cheese: Waiting for you to answer your door.
Beehive: Did you ring the bell?
Cheese: Twice.
Beehive: Oh, I was sleeping on the couch.

Sunday morning, woke up at the buttcrack of dawn, which was about 830am. Got all ready for the Intrepid Museum. I haven’t been there since a 6th grade field trip to hear some Gulf War General speak. My nephews enjoyed the Intrepid, and got to look and be quiet towards Ms Cheese. Overall the Intrepid was good. It was cool to sit in the simulators, and I want to go back with someone and go on the 4-D rides that they have. Walking along the ship I realize I would never want to work on a ship like that, or any one for that matter for a long time out at sea. I would get so stir crazy, and annoyed at everyone who surrounded me. My hats off to those that do live and work on such ships, I’m grateful for your ability to do things that I would not be able to. In return I shall continue to garden, and help provide you with more oxygen from all the plants that I tend to.

Then lunch at Trailer Park. So good. So good. So trashy, yet so good. Mmm. I think that their tots are the best that I’ve ever had. Never had a bad tot there. A $4.00 frozen margarita later, and I was feeling good. Had to lie down in the grass along the Hudson River, and then slept the day’s activity off. Well worth the weekend.

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Out of Context…

One of the women who sit in my set of cubes arrived late. She had been awaiting for a plumber that never arrived at her co-op. Her manager asked how the plumber went. Apparently the plumber never arrived…

but the woman shouted “What do I have to call the Board of Directors to get my pipes fixed!”

I giggled.

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What’s That Smell?

Ooooohhoooh that smell, cantcha smell that smell!

Sometimes I forget what happens, how events occur, and unfold. Other times I just plain old forget to do something, like pack a Power Bar, close a window, bring an umbrella, nothing that would really destroy the world.

This morning, I’m sitting in my cube, and doing my work.

I smell something.

Not sure of what it is, I freeze my body, and let my brain run its check as to what this smell could possibly be.

DING! We have a hit.

It’s rubber.

Rubber?

Why do I smell rubber? I looked at the bottom of my shoes, looked around my desk, and did not see anything that would smell like rubber.

Then I remember that I didn’t take a shower this morning. I usually shower the night before work, but lately I’ve been showering at night before bed, again in the morning before I leave for work, and yet again in the evening when I get home. NYC has been way too hot and sticky. This morning though was 66 degrees F. I didn’t need that extra shower, and didn’t take it.

Now I’m thinking what if I normally smell like rubber if I don’t shower in the morning, and I’ve never realized it, and nobody has ever informed me of such things.

I’d like to state I am often complimented as smelling very good. People wonder what I use, and I tell them my secret. It’s April Fresh Downy fabric softener in the clothing. It keeps me sweet scented all day long.

So back to the point… Why is there a rubber smell near me?

Then I remember that I did not shower this morning, but I did shower last night, before the girlfriend came over, and that this shower was before we did the unspeakable. If you don’t know what the unspeakable is let me explain it for you. The unspeakable is when two people have sweet yet dirty hot sex with each other that stains the comforter cover. The type of sex that lets the entire neighborhood know that I am a MAN! The type of sex that makes each of you scream the joys of passion. The kind that afterwards when I take off a condom I am way too tired to jump back in the shower. The kind of sex that lets me cuddle, and talk a good conversation until it abruptly ends with my snoring in mid sentence.

Bottom line, the rubber smell is most likely my rubber scented penis, and I’m not sure if everyone else notices the scent.

***Writing this blog has made me feel like Danielle Steele.

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Crying In The Office At 9AM!

I sit in a four set of cubes, and right now, literally right now one of the women that sit in my set of cubes is crying. Not just crying, but sobbing, and weeping. Why is she crying? For starters she is scared to death that she will be on a hijacked plane. Mostly due to the fact her job involves flying across the country for about two thirds of her job. It is awkward to say the least, but thank God someone in her department is there right now trying to calm her down. I don’t want to be insensitive to the woman, but at the same time I don’t want her to have more attention drawn to her tears by having a crowd of people around her. Plus I wouldn’t want to be the male who helps her stop crying, and then have her run around the floor saying that we’re dating – like she has done in the past with other male coworkers on the floor.

AWKWARD!

It sounds like she is trying to hold back the tears, but it’s no use. She should just let them out. She is trying to talk, and hold them back, which is making her voice all high pitch and squeaky. She doesn’t want to fly anymore.

Just imagine when the government wants to raise the color coding again, and they literally go off the charts.

And to all you terrorists out there who might read my blog. Find a new career!

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Movie Reviews

So I find that I cannot successfully give movie reviews for movies that I have not scene if I do not know what the title of the movie is. Internet access to movies is restricted and denied in my office, I rarely watch commercials, and don’t have a clue as to what movies are out there.

I saw four movies in the theatre this summer.

1- The Break Up – Go see this with your girlfriend or boyfriend, and enjoy the tension that builds between the two of you as you watch the horrors fall off the screen, and then afterwards try to pretend that you both actually enjoyed this movie. If this does not seem appealing to you, might I recommend you Netflix “Fever Pitch”.
2- Strangers With Candy – Go see this with your best friend that doesn’t speak a lot of English. You’ll be sure to enjoy the movies much more than your friend.
3- You, Me, & Dupree – Hands down the best movie of the summer. If you don’t enjoy this movie, you should have instead have opted to shave your balls, or that of your neighbor, or close friend. Go see this movie.
4- Art School Confidential – I would recommend you go see this movie, but only if it is at a theatre other than Sunshine, this way you can avoid the awkward waiting of movies lines. However, this is a must see for any artist. You will smile, laugh, cringe, and cry as they spoof many of the people who you know. Especially the many “individuals” that there are in the world of arts.

There you have it world. Go run off to the theatre!

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Screwed Myself

Today I got in the office early, at 8:45am. Which for some reason has been the norm for Tuesday, Wednesday, and Fridays. Both Mondays and Thursdays are 9:00am for some reason. The subways just run better on those three days for whatever.

So, I get in, and immediately checked cnn.com, gawker.com, and all the usual blogs that I visit on a daily work basis. All this was done before 9am. 9AM! That left me with nothing to do but do work! While I like having work to do so that may 4 hours of work on most days will go by quickly, I also like knowing that I can go read something on the internet and waste my work time away.

Not today.

Nope. Not me.

Nope. Today I shot my internet load before 9am, leaving me bored out of my mind with nothing to keep it occupied but work.

I think I’ll occupy my brain by reviewing the movies that are out in the theater, and which I have not scene for the most. I’ll post up some reviews later today, hopefully…

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College

After 8 years of lacking a “traditional” education, I needed to go back and get 30 credits in order to join the FDNY, who have since changed requirements, and I meet qualifications by having more than 6 months of full time paid work experience. Anyways, I have been attending a Colonial American through Civil War Era History class, up at Hunter College. To be quite honest, I’ve always thought of most college as being complete BS, and had no desire to go to one, EVER!

Now, after three weeks of enjoying class, and revisiting things that I already knew, and learning new things that I never picked up upon before, I find myself to be correct in that college is BS, and yet I still go. I am also learning other things, lets take a look…

1.People are most likely in fact definitely born idiots, and most likely do not become one.
2.Henry David Thoreau is full of crap. I agree with his beliefs that slavery is wrong, and that he would much rather live in places populated with people who are drones, but for the life of me, I find his writings to be even longer, and more rambling, and full of more BS than anything of my own. I read his writings, and just keep thinking, “Spit it out already! Didn’t you finish your point yet? You’re repeating yourself for an exhausting 19th time!”
3.College papers help mold the brain to want to write retarded corporate forms, which are the cause of far too much red tape.
4. Coeds are really unattractive when they feel the need to ask way to many questions and need their hand to be held in order to think their own thought on how to answer questions with writing a paper.
5. Old people can be just as creepy sitting alone in the corner of a class, as they can be when sitting alone on a park bench.
6. Teachers go to college in the summer, and are just a weird and socially awkward amongst themselves, just like when they are in the teachers’ room at schools.
7. Some coeds wear really short skirts, and you can see their ass when they walk in the halls.
8. College professors are exactly like the stereotypes show in movies.
9. The Asian kid who went to Stuyvesant High School in NYC (it’s a really prestigious school, if you never heard of it) cannot speak good English, and cannot fathom why his alma mater was named after the racist former colonial governor of New Amsterdam.
10. I can break wind as much as I wish inside a small room full of strangers with the door and windows closed, and have no one make a mention of any odor.
11. Girls from Texas are annoying with their politeness.
12. Some men are so hairy that they need to shave with a blade the back of their necks in between regular haircuts. Which is way faster hair growth and more than I have on my entire body.
13. What they say that college is a time for experimentation is true. I decided to have an experimental mustache on Saturday, and then shaved it on Sunday. Apparently my 26 year old body will have to wait until I’m 35 to grow a full mustache.
14. People in college don’t know the unwritten rule of how to ride escalators like everyone else, ride the right side and walk on the left – even though the steps are moving!
15. I am way too old inside my head to sit in a college cafeteria and eat.
16. I picked up a new move on how to get out of awkward conversations with people who just go on and on without letting you get a word in, and simply love the sound of their own voice. Simply HIGH FIVE the individual say, “thanks”, then turn around and walk away.
17. People who would normally find it gross to lay down on a public bench and sleep have no problems doing so on soft yet filthy seats in the common areas of the campus.
18. Listening to someone moan while taking what must have been a horrific dumb in the mens room while I was in it is still amusing.

Sorry can’t complete this right now, need to do the office work.

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ALARMS

When I woke up this morning I realized that something was wrong with my alarm clock. It was buzzing, and I couldn’t get up to turn it off. Yeup, something was definately wrong with THAT alarm clock.

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This is a cameraphoto of my garden from Saturday. Lots of Salvia.

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Danny Glover Officially Welcomes Mel Gibson

This morning Mel Gibson was officially welcomed into The League of Washed Up Action Movie Stars by Danny Glover. Gibson was shocked at his induction into this exclusive club, of which he is only the second member.

Glover was so happy to have someone to mill about the rest of his days with, that he shot off two celebratory rounds of blanks. Glover also has high hopes for his organization with its doubling, he says that he has plans to one day unite with The League of Washed Up Romantic Comedy Stars, which Ben Affleck has so far been objecting to.

Gibson was seen walking into the sunset towards the nearest AA meeting, muttering the names Katzenberg, and Brillstein.

*It should be noted that both Glover, and three innocent bystanders to the induction asked Gibson if he could purchase a shirt and pants for Glover. Gibson released a statement through his publicist stating “I am deeply saddened that my fellow action star only has the means to wear polka dot boxers, and I shall purchase neigther pant nor shirt for him. I will relinquish all hope of living life as I have in the past and follow suit.”

Whatever that means.

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I Shall Not Be Outed By My Lover, Therefore I Will Bare My Soul!

I’m not about to come across all Lance Bass for you guys. I need to bare the truth, that I am prepared for a blackout, an act of war against NYC, or something of horrific nature. My place is stacked with gallons of water, food, candles, flashlights, battery operated lights, among other items. This week I’ve been carrying around on my bag a flashlight, a red cap - since my newly buzzed head burns, power bars, a bottle of water, and a comfy pair of sneakers. I was seriously expecting to be caught on the subway this week, and being THAT person, who whips out a flashlight on a pitch black subway car, or platform, and hope that no one would beat me up for my flashlight.

So, yes, the rumors that you have heard are true.

Also, deeper and darker, for about a year after 9/11 I carried around with me a big bottle of water everywhere I went. It was supposed to be my getting home comfortably water, my empty bottle to fill when I needed to walk 70 miles to my sisters home upstate, or my last drops of water until my death, while trapped in an air pocket under a building that had been bombed out.

To answer your questions, yes I am neurotic. No, I was raised Roman Catholic. No, I don’t practice. Yes, I will be stingy with my water and let you fend for yourself. No, I will not eat my cat, at least not for the first month or two without food. Yes, I am sitting on a different chair while I type this in the Tony Bennett room. Yes, this chair is about 40 or 50 years old. Yes, I am still hot and sweaty.

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Stinky!

Someone I work with has very bad BO, and I’m told that it’s always, and not simply from the heat. Ewwww!

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Heatwave! Heatwave! Oh Boy Is It An Oppressive Heatwave!

I know that other bloggers have touched this subject since the beginning of blog time, some few short years ago. Even I briefly touched the subject already, and I must continue!

On my way into the office building from the subway, which connects directly into the basement of my building a young woman seemed to be overtaken by the heat and decided to “rest” on the pavement instead of going into the air conditioned building. I guess she figured it better to show good signs of heatstroke in public, just 10 feet away from the entrance that 85% of your coworkers use, rather than going inside and asking for help. Swallow some pride and inform someone that your head hurts or something, no need to let yourself look like a fool who didn’t drink any water this morning. Aye, a fool.

That “aye” is a reference to Henry David Thoreau. Who I feel is a gigantic douche bag of a writer. I need to read “Civil Disobedience and Other Essays” for my history class. I read Ben Franklin’s Autobiography, and Frederick Douglas’ Narrative already, BF was quite full of himself, and FD was an interesting read, and maybe it’s the heat that is getting to me but Thoreau books should not be read. He makes me want to induce vomiting, with his over the top full of hot air way of writing. Yesterday on the subway after class, when I was going home around 4pm, the a/c which had been running strong, stopped altogether, and the cars of this N train got crowded and hot. A woman and her about 4-year-old girl sat next to me. The girl was sitting on her mother’s lap, with her mom fanning her. This whole I’m not touching you, but I’m waving something in your face on top of reading douche bag Thoreau was not going to be stood for. So, I channeled all my energy into nothing but good, and I politely said, “Can you please fan your daughter from the other side?” The woman huffed, and complied, but apparently her right hand doesn’t work well in a fanning motion. I was happy.

So, the FDNY and ConEd are outside my office building, looks like we may need to evacuate today.

Gotta go get some work done.

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Blackout! Blackout! Blackout!

It’s 9:45AM on Tuesday, and I’m at work up on the 24th floor, and in the middle of nowhere Queens, about 10-12 miles walking distance from my home, if I walk through Brooklyn to get there. I’m wondering if and when a power outage might occur, thereby making me walk either to school, on the Upper East Side, or walk home, on the other side of Brooklyn. I have my flashlight, a hat, and a bottle of water for my journey. I think tomorrow I will bring in my sneakers and leave them in case of evacuations.

Think I’m crazy? The building was evacuated a couple of Wednesdays ago, no more than a minute or two after I left to go to school at 1PM. It remained closed the next day. That Wednesday the AC wasn’t on good, much like today, and only 2 elevators from each bank were working. I won’t be surprised if it all goes off this week, and definitely won’t be disappointed if it doesn’t.

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