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Archive for October, 2007

Halloweekend II: The Reckoning

Posted by evankessler on October 31, 2007

Once again, the weekend recap is late and once again I apologize. However, I have been battling a tad bit of writers block since this book writing venture began….that much is immaterial to the events of this past weekend. I entitled it Halloweekend II, simply because last year I entitled Halloween Weekend, Halloweekend in the tradition of many a horror movie, this was to be it’s sequel.

The weekend began as innocently as the past few weekends began (though it never really descended into anything that would require a feeling of guilt), just another night at the Lighthouse swigging a few Buds and watching the hours roll by. The previous night Thea B and I and gone to see the New Pornographers put on a stellar show at Webster Hall. It was mostly enjoyable save for the obnoxious Six-foot-three superfan who felt he had to battle me for position despite me being 8 inches shorter than he. There’s one in every crowd and they always seem to end up several feet from me when I am in said crowd. This is a valid argument for never attending concert again but if the music is good enough it tends to win out.

Anyway, back to Friday… Me, Arby, Beers, lighthouse… Those are the essential details, if you missed them you didn’t miss much because this was pretty much all that Friday night entailed. Though there was the comical occurrence of the manager Erik, Arby, and Waymon (the cook) all taking a shot of tabasco sauce and 151. It was pretty stupid and all three of them while trying to prove their manliness would grow to regret their decision. Other than that Heather got mad at Arby for playing with the taps. Arby got drunk, we left before 1am…the end of Friday night.

Saturday, I awoke to sight of quite the downpour. It was relatively early at the time I chose to hop on out of bed and face the day. I had a few errands to run in relation to my Halloween costume, so I figured I’d knock those out before taking the time to be lazy…it seemed like the most effective way to enjoy the afternoon. I donned my Syracuse hoodie and my jeans and headed towards Duane Reade on the 7th Avenue and Flatbush. The missing pieces to my costume would hopefully be found there. Luckily for me the walk over would be a dry one as the rain had stopped. Upon my arrival,I scoured the shelves of the trusty neighborhood pharmacy in search of a clipboard and a whistle. I found a clipboard but it wasn’t one of those old school wooden ones. Instead it was some neon yellow plastic color which would was not the desired prop for my Camp Waterfront Director costume.

My next move was to the stationery store across the street. Unfortunately the rain had picked up quite a bit and I would be substantially wet before reaching my destination, despite its close proximity. I quickly took refuge inside and made my way through the store in search of my props. I found a clipboard after about 5 minutes as well as a legal pad to attach to it. I would need the paper for my general swim buddy sign up sheet. If people wanted to party tonight, they’d have to do so on the buddy system. I eventually found a whistle at the store too but it was a keychain and I wanted one that clipped to a lanyard around my neck for the costume to be perfect.

So my costume completion journey continued down Flatbush Avenue where I came to Triangle Sports at 5th Avenue. I was in and out of there in about 1 minute with a whistle and a lanyard in tow. From there it was back to my apartment to eat lunch and get into character. The last thing I needed for my character was a little zinc sunblock action on my nose. Unfortunately, none of the products I had in my apartment had the desired effect. I made one last venture around the corner and picked up some clear toothpaste to double for my final costume element. I was not aware of the subsequent slight burning sensation spreading toothpaste on my nose would cause but I dealt with it all night without bitching (so forgive me if I’m bitching now).

Before heading out to the city for the first Halloween Party I grabbed a burger with Arby at the subpar Park Cafe on 7th Ave. I honestly don’t know why we go back there. Oh yeah, it’s cheap and close. Straight from there I went home and got ready by showering and donning my costume. I emerged from my apartment around 8:45pm wearing a bathing suit, a short sleeved camp staff shirt, and flip flops, holding a clipboard. I marched right down to the 7 train passed a handful of people, none of which seemed dressed for Halloween.

I arrived just in time for the Q train and for people to stare at me as if they had no idea it was a night that people were having Halloween parties. I wasn’t uncomfortable though, I was kind of in character, ready to blow my whistle and tell them to get in the water.

It was about 9:30 when I arrived at the East Village abode of Jess S, Deb M, and Londa L. The party seemed to already be in full swing but there were a few folks occupied by the World Series, unconcerned with the goings on around them. Deb, Jess, and Londa all made a nice effort to dress their parts. Londa was dressed as Olive Oyl, Deb was Jem (from the 80’s cartoon) and Jess was Vicki from Small Wonder. Several people I did not recognize came up to me and said hello. They recognized me from the previous year when I brought Li’l Evan Kessler as my costume. I did not recognize them. It’s nearly impossible to recognize people you’ve only met in costume when they’re wearing a differrent costume. Actually, I’ll amend that statement to read it’s difficult to recognize anyone you don’t really know at all in costume.

Vicki From Small Wonder’s Mechanic Said She Shouldn’t Be Allowed In The Water

The party itself was okay. I didn’t know a great many people there and some that I knew best were completely entranced by the Sox. I was involved in several conversations but I sort of tried to hang with Jess, Deb, John, and Londa a little bit. Some of the staples I’m used to seeing at Jess and Deb’s parties were not there save for her friends Orli and Meg, both of whom kept me entertained for a while. The best costume was probably a tie between Jess and Meg, who came as Amy Winehouse. By the way, I still have no idea what the big effin’ deal about Amy Winehouse is. Every few years an artist comes along that everyone thinks is so great and they fade into obscurity. Does anyone know where Macy Gray is?

Anyway, there were a few awful costumes as well. Some girl was dressed in green, I think she was a leprechaun or something and on her tall dumb green hat she had taped a piece of paper that had the numbers 420 and 69 on it making it even dumber than it already was. I guess she was a leprechaun who liked to smoke and do it. Maybe she was just sounding her mating call instead of shouting “I’m so drunk”. I wish I would’ve asked what she was trying to do but I just didn’t think the answer would’ve been rewarding or interesting.

At around 12:15am I realized I was not talking to anyone and aimlessly wandering. It was at that point I decided to head back to Brooklyn to my old apartment and hang out at a party where I would more than likely know everyone. I said a quick goodbye to the hostesses and caught a cab down the street. It was one hell of a long cab ride and it was 12:50 when I finally made it back to the Slope.

By the time I got to Rob and Marty’s party it seemed to have quieted down. I was fine with that since the people left were some of my favorites. Rob his girlfriend Beth, Reva, Katey, Alice, Tara, Jason, Deirdre, Chris, Josh, Ali and Marty were all hanging in the living room drinking and just generally emanating good times. I cracked open a beer and joined the fray.

I’d Prefer If My Pilot Didn’t Enjoy A Cocktail

Bi-Curious George and The Man In The Yellow Hat

The Boss Spreads His Patriotic Message To The Crowd

Marty also continuously doled out tasty hors d’oeuvres which I probably had one too many of, but I couldn’t help myself. The party raged on until after 3am when after Marty gave out costume prizes he tried to get people to go out to the bars for last call. Rather than give in to temptation to drink more I packed up my clipboard and called it a night.

The next morning I awoke and felt full of food and beer. I wasn’t hungover, just overly full. I could barely move…and on top of that I had a bit of a cold. Rather than venture into the great wide open, Sunday was spent mostly in the comfort of my own bedroom watching football as the good lord intended.

So there you have it…my pre Halloween weekend. There’ll be plenty more to talk about after actual Halloween. I hope everyone has a spooky day, but I also hope no one gets murdered by a fictional murdering character like they have in the movies.

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Your Job De-PUN-ds On It

Posted by evankessler on October 25, 2007


Now, I don’t know if anyone picked up the New York Post today… but if you did you saw this headline in reference to the Red Sox 13-1 drubbing of the Colorado Rockies in Game 1 of the 2007 world series. I’m not sure who came up with this particular play on words but I imagine he/she’s been waiting all playoffs to use it. Unfortunately, now that that’s been all used up, said staffer will have go back to the clever pun drawing board and hope for other scenarios to play out. With so much pressure for a repeat punformance , I figured I would lighten the burden on the certain staffer’s shoulders by offering up a pun of my own for a particular scenario. So with further ado:

If the Red Sox should take the first three games only to drop Game 4 to the Rockies in Denver, feel free to make the headline:

Rockies Mountin’ Comeback

You can thank me later.

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Hunkering Down

Posted by evankessler on October 17, 2007

It is not my intention to make this a weekend recap. Very few notable things happened this weekend. Save for drinking with Thea and Heather on both Friday and Saturday, Arby and I grabbing some brunch on Saturday afternoon (which resulted in one choice photograph) and our subsequent pigskin toss in the park, it was a sort of slow couple of days.

My original intention was to title this post “Gawking Gawkers and The Gawkers who Gawk Them” on account of the party I attended over the weekend which was attended by several current and ex-Gawker staffers. There was a sense of superority in the air as most of them could not complete a sentence without using the word Gawker as if it would impress anyone not rocking the vastly popular blog’s name on their resume. Needless to say those of us who did not spew that word with regularity were rather bored by the excessive work talk and we left for another outing but quickly called it a night.

Yes rather than dwell on the past that was this weekend I am looking towards the future. . This past week I have been hunkering down in preparation towwards fulfilling or at least tackling a new career goal. The Costner blog gave me the sweet taste of success and showed me the value of hard work. With that sweet taste fading I’ve decided to go after something bigger (no not Robin Williams, though I am currently chasing a photo of him looking at If I Blog It They Will Come.) . I’ve decided to try my hand at writing a book. Since the beginning of this blog I’ve had folks tell me that I should consider conquering such a task, but I’ve never really had the balls or the idea to follow through. Well, things have changed and I’m proud to announce that I’ve already begun research and broke ground on my sample chapter.

Today was probably one of the more important days in my new journey as I visited the “Hall of Fame for Great Americans” on the Campus of Bronx Community College. I’d tell you all about it but then it would ruin the 1st chapter in the book seeing as I don’t want to write it twice. In any case, this thing is just getting off the ground and I’m excited to attempt to put my writing into a more tangible form. Now, if only I knew a literary agent or had enough money to fulfill all of my research. Crap, I need a job…or an advance.

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D.C. Follies

Posted by evankessler on October 9, 2007

It was another eventful weekend in the annals of evankessler.com history and probably the final installment in our Wedded Bliss 2007 series. Prior to that occurrence we said a hearty welcome back to one of our good friends who made his long awaited return to the city of New York. Friday night saw the return of one Andy S, who spent the past several months on a boat in New England doing his manly duty at sea. There was probably lots of business with masts and sails and rigs and whatnot. I’m not well versed in that fishy ocean business. I’m a man of the land who stays anchored to the sand so I won’t pretend to have that knowledge at hand and I’ll say nothing of the supposed mysteries of “shore leave” if you know what I mean. All I know is that a few of us met up at Lorelay on the Lower East side for our share of Bier and German fare. Joining in on the occasion were Ken S, Jason S, Kayvalyn, Ahmad, Dmitry, Lauren, Miller and myself. I know I’m probably leaving someone out or adding an extra person but my memory doesn’t always serve me perfectly…though sometimes that works in favor of the story, like if I were to tell you a giant dragon suddenly showed up and breathed fire on an unsuspecting crowd before I slew the beast with my erection because I have a hard on for violence and heroism. However, that did not happen. We just had a genuinely pleasant get together with huge German biers in honor of Oktoberfest and smiled and laughed much to the chagrin of some of the surrounding crowd, whom beckoned us to quiet down.

After receiving a surprisingly large bill we settled up and I made for the Lighthouse Tavern with both Andy and Jason in tow. Kayvalyn and Ahmad had left earlier in favor of hanging out with some of their high school friends from back in Thailand. We got a nice seat in the outdoor space as the inside was packed with Red Sox fans cheering on their team who was in the process of defeating the Anaheim Angels of Los Angeles (which is an absolutely retarded team name). Ken joined us after biking over from Manhattan for a drink and some wings. Heather was at the bar and Thea joined us in back but Andy, Jason, and Ken left soon after and it pretty much ended up being Me, Thea, and Heather for a bit. However, I could not stay out too late but I had a few more drinks before heading home as I had to wake up the next morning to meet Suli in Williamsburg so we could drive down to D.C. I think I went to sleep a little bit after 1:30am.

My alarm rang on Saturday morning at 8:30am and as tempted as I was to snooze it, I sprang out of bed and hit the shower. I had to pack my bags and be in the ‘Burg by 11am. While that sounds like a reasonable amount of time, I had to take into account the unreasonable length of the intraborough commute which included three separate subway lines, the stubbornly inconsistent F, G, and L trains. Toting my suit housed in it’s dry cleaning uniform, with a smaller travel bag in my other hand I plodded towards the F train station at 7th Avenue and 9th Street stopping for a bagel and my beloved Ito En Jasmine Green Tea (the more I mention it the closer I am to getting endorsements). It took about 7 minutes for the F train to come and the transfer to the G was simple enough in that I didn’t have to walk anywhere seeing as it stops at the same platform I exited onto at the Smith and 9th Street station. From there it was another couple of minutes until I reached the Metropolitan -Lorimer stop and transfered to the L train. This required a slight underground trek but I wouldn’t exactly describe it as lengthy. Perhaps the most comforting thing about the L train is the fact that there are signs on the platform that tell you when the next train is coming. As I looked up I saw it read 3 minutes and I was sufficiently pleased with this knowledge. Much to my surprise it arrived in 2 minutes completely shattering my faith in the timing system but getting me to the Graham stop a full minute earlier than expected.

I walked out to a familiar scene as I had exited at that stop many a time though admittedly not in the morning. I used to frequently take the L to Graham when Rich, Dmitry, Ahmad, Miller, Victor, and whoever the crap used to live at 709 Grand lived there. Now Suli had taken up residence a mere block away in the familiar neighborhood which houses a store that sells diving gear, though I don’t suspect they sell a great deal of diving gear. Suli welcomed to me to his relatively new abode with the unfortunate news that Lina would not be joining us on our jaunt to D.C. for our friend Matt’s wedding as she had badly injured her ankle the day before and would probably be very uncomfortable couped up in a car or dancing the hora.

With heavy hearts Suli and I jumped in his vehicle and headed for the nation’s capital. Our last such road trip was way back in 2003 when we, along with Joe D made for The Big Easy after thanksgiving. This trip would be about one fifth as short since the drive to D.C. was only going to take us upwards of around 4 hours…give or take. We did hit a bit of a snag getting to the Holland tunnell but our route was marked by mostly smooth sailing. Although we encountered little highway resistance there were some things worth noting. While driving through New Jersey, we passed tour bus that was for none other than James Taylor Curtis and the Silver Eagle Band. At first we thought that it might be “Fire and Rain” and “Sweet Baby James” Taylor but it took us about a second to realize that that guy didn’t need to add Curtis onto his last name. Not being familiar with any of their work, I decided that James Taylor Curtis and the Silver Eagle Band had only one song that they played over and over again and they changed lyrics in accordance with whatever they were doing at the time. At this particular moment the song lyrics went:

“James Taylor Curtis and The Silver Eagle Band…Driving through New Jersey with a guitar in our hand”.

Had they been at a diner at that moment the lyric “driving through New Jersey” would be replaced with “eating at a diner“…and so on and so forth. By then end of our drive this melody was bouncing around our heads all weekend and still hasn’t excaped due to its catchiness. The roads were also packed with horible drivers. At one point we could not escape a red minivan with three bicycles on the back. I decided that this vehicle would made an ideal getaway car because one could not clearly view the license plate. Sure it had three bicycles on the back but you could either drive away and sink the car in the river and ride off on the bicycles or ditch the bicycles in the woods and use the vehicle as Detroit intended with no one having seen your license plate as you sped away from the robbery.

Behold…The Perfect Getaway Vehicle

Suli and I eventually stopped at the Clara Barton rest area, the last one in New Jersey. We needed to eat but we more or less stopped out of curiosity over who Clara Barton exactly was and why she warranted her own rest stop, which is precisely why we didn’t stop at the Thomas Alva Edison and Vince Lombardi rest stops. I was pretty sure ‘ol CB had something to do with Nursing but I didn’t think she founded the Red Cross because I thought that was Florence
Nightingale. I hope there would be a plaque trumpeting her achievements but instead just found a TCBY, Pizza Hut, Burger King, Travel Mart, and Cinnabon. I’d have to wait to the actual wedding when my friend Dana R cleared up that she did indeed found the Red Cross. That certainly warrants having your own rest stop though I don’t necessarily Ms. Barton would be proud of the greasy, sugar-saturated goings on inside. I didn’t stop at any of the fast food shops. Suli had gotten a coffee from Cinnabon and I had a particularly strange encounter at the travel mart. When I presented my water to the clerk, she asked if I wanted anything to eat with that as if she was about to produce a suitable meal from a non-existent grill under the gum racks. Really, if I had wanted something to eat, wouldn’t she be under the impression that I would’ve brought it to the counter to pay for. I guess it must be a rare occurrence in this country that people just buy a bottle of water without getting something to make them fatter to go with it.

The rest of the ride down was pretty uneventful. We drove through Delaware and Maryland before being greeted by the Washington Monument towering above some generic office buildings. Our directions called for a minor detour through the Capital city on our way to our hotel in Arlington, Va.

We arrived at around 3:30pm, an hour and twenty minutes before we were to catch the shuttle bus to the Ronald Reagan Center for International Trade. This gave us enough time to head up to our room and cycle through the TV channels while getting dressed. Turns out we would use most of that time fixing our ties as we both moronically struggled with attaining the perfect knot. Our epic battle with our neck-cessories ended at around 4:30 pm when we decided to hang out in the lobby waiting for our friend Eric L. and his girlfriend Gina to make the scene and join us on the bus. However, the shuttle soon came and feeling bored in the lobby we decided to sit on the bus and wait. At around 4:45 our friends joined us and the bus was all but ready to go though we waited 15 more minutes for no one else to show just to be safe and so we could sweat more in the sauna like shuttle bus.

We arrived at the Capt. Ron Reagan Center after a brief drive. I was disappointed that there were no giant memorial statues to pose in front of. I wanted a 60 foot wax statue or a slew of movie posters highlighted by 1951’s Bedtime for Bonzo.
Despite my disappointment over the lack of Reagan paraphernalia, I was delighted to know that Homeland Security would be watching over this wedding as I stepped through a metal detector en route to the elevator. Once upstairs I saw that very few folks were hanging out. We were amongst the first to arrive and we quickly formed our own little clique area. Soon we were joined by Eve and Jess D, as well as their parents and Joe D’s girlfriend Jaysarah. We talked for a bit before making our way into the room where the ceremony was to be held.
Suli and I sat in the 4th or 5th row next to Eric and Gina.

We sat quietly but there was no sign of anything so I inexplicably started chanting “dudes…dudes…dudes” to myself as I’m wont to do when I’m surrounded by a bunch of dudes. Suli mistook it as me saying “untz…untz…untz” like a house beat and mimicked it. At that moment the dude in front of use turned around and asked if we liked house music. He then went to tell us he’s a house DJ in Miami and that he’s best friends with one of the best DJ’s in the world as if we would care. We didn’t really feign interest but he kept going on and on about house music and some party his friend was throwing. He then asked where we were from and started talking about how he’s from Massapequa and was with some band we should be familiar with and how he got his start in DJing….none of which was information we solicited.

Finally the wedding started and Housedouche turned around. The ceremony itself was very nice. It was funny to see Rich, Joe, and Mike S as groomsmen. I sort of felt left out but not really. It was weird to see our friend Matt get married. I’m really happy for him though. When you meet people in Junior High you never think about knowing them til the day they get married and then when it happens you sort of realize how much your life is in shambles and how much other people have their shit together. Ah well, I suppose I can continue on…the evening certainly did.

After the ceremony the newly crowned King and Queen of weddingdom walked out to an orchestral version of Coldplay’s “Clocks” at which point housedouche turned around to notify us and ask if we had heard a certain remix version of said song. Ugh.

The cocktail hour was a good time. I hadn’t seen some of the people there before the ceremony and in some time. Dana R was in from Arizona where I believe she is working on her doctorate. She is always fun to hang out with. Her sister Jodi was supposed to be there but was sick after picking up something in the Ukraine. Mike S made the rounds but mostly Dana, Joe, Suli, Rich, Jaysarah, Eve D, Jessica D, Mona, Jay, Jaysarah, Eric, Gina and I made conversation while sampling the alcoholic offerings along with the tasty array of finger foods.

The Last First Dance of Wedded Bliss ’07

Soon it was time for the party to begin and how does a wedding usually begin…with the first dance. This moment was a little awkward because I don’t think either Matt or Lindsay are the people in this world most fond of dancing. It sort of seemed like it too though I didn’t really expect Matt to get down so much as he’s usually one of the more laid back people I know. Besides weddings with Jews usually get going when it’s time for THE HORA!!! However, once the DJ signaled it’s beginning by playing of appropriate song, no one really did anything. People stood in a circle, and seeing as half of them weren’t Jewish, they weren’t exactly sure what to do. I tried to goad Joe’s parents into starting the dancing and they were trying but no one was going along with it, not even the bride and groom who stood unmoved at the side of the center of the circle. At this moment I looked at Joe and said that we should do something. I think Mike felt the same way too and a group consisting mainly of Matt’s friends got in the middle and started dancing in our attempt to breathe some life into the gathering. We pulled out two chairs and put the newlyweds on the chairs and hoisted them in the air as is tradition (sort of ironic that our efforts to uphold Jewish tradition needed the aid of a Paksitani and a chinese friend) but we didn’t have enough people participating and the situation was unstable to say the least. After a brief stint being hoisted skyward the duo was soon let down. None of the siblings or parents followed. I could understand their trepidation though.

Soon after the strange sustenance of a traditional showing of wedded bliss we were all beckoned to our seats. The meal courses were served in rapid succession with barely any dancing in between. Though that left plenty of time for conversation which is actually my favorite part of attending weddings. I usually wish there wasn’t some obnoxiously loud band playing “Hey Ya!” in the background while I’m trying to catch up with friends. I had more quality conversations with folks at tables 12 and 14. In between two of the courses we were also witness to do heartfelt, albeit brief best man and maid of honor speeches made by the couple’s respective siblings.

Probably one of the oddest parts about the wedding was the fact that there was no wedding cake. I don’t mention it to take issue with it…I’ve just never heard of that before. Instead there was a candy ceremony, which I liked because it was very different and sometimes different is good. Plus, it doesn’t involve knives and knives can be involved in accidents whereas candy can be delicious. Also, candy has lots of sugar so when dancing actually happens you have plenty of energy before crashing.

Candy!

Dancin’ with the Bride

Eric and Gina Do Their White People Dance Thing

I Suppose This is What Me Having A Good Time Looks Like


It seemed like a majority of the guests left after the candy ceremony leaving the Reaganomics Arena to friends of the bride and groom. That was fine with us as we continued to drink and dance until the last shuttle bus left for our hotel at 11:30pm.

Once back at the hotel, we changed clothes and gathered together at Joe’s room. Not everyone was present as it was just Suli, Joe D, Jaysarah, Eve D, Rich, and I. We spent the rest of the evening looking through pictures and exploring the wonders of abbreviated language, overusing the phrases, “totes” (ofish) , “ofish” (official), and “natch” (naturally), amongst others. We even rewatched a youtube-worthy video of one of our friends dancing about 35 times. While I don’t have it and don’t think I’d be able to post it without tremendous fallout or getting sued It was indescribably funny, though if I were to describe the video in 2 words I would call it “male tittyshake”. You’re probably not getting the right mental picture but perhaps one day I’ll be able to show you.

That basically put an end to our weekend. The next morning we woke up at about 9:30am. Suli and I hung out in the hotel room for a bit before leaving to meet Rich in the lobby since we were taking him home to Rockland. We said our goodbyes to Eric L, Gina, and Eve D in the lobby before hitting the road a little after noon. I was somewhat distressed that I was missing the Giants-Jets game but got regular updates from Arby via text message. The trip back took us longer than we expected since we missed a couple of steps on the directions back. However, as long as we got on I-95 north we were headed in the right direction. The trip back was certainly less eventful but with seemingly more traffic. There was no James Taylor Curtis and The Silver Eagle Band driving back through New Jersey with a guitar in their hand. It was just Suli, Rich and I high tailing it back to the Empire State.

We did make one stop at the John Fenwick service area. Upon pulling in we once again tried to figure out who John Fenwick might be but to no avail. Suli confused him with James Fenimore Cooper, the author of “The Last of The Mohicans” but according to wikipedia he was an English Jacobite conspirator in the 1600’s which doesn’t at all seem relevant to the part of Souther New Jersey we were in. Coincidentally, the next rest stop ended up being the James Fenimore Cooper service area. We didn’t stop there though, because we knew who he was and we had more important tasks at hand, namely finally getting the hell home.

I finally arrived back at my apartment in Brooklyn at 7:20 PM, ready to break free from a lengthy day couped up in a Toyota Rav 4. Upon my arrival I sat down with my roommates who had just cooked a homemade dinner and recounted the weekend, before heading into Bassett’s room to watch the Rock of Love reunion special. I subsequently made a trip down to the Lighthouse and drank with Arby, Heather, and Thea until the wee hours because I’m an alcoholic. A weekend well spent if you ask me.

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It’s Not Polite To Share

Posted by evankessler on October 5, 2007


It’s not often I take it upon myself to applaud the actions of others on this here site but today marks such an odd occasion. On this first Friday in October in the year of our lord 2007, I have been compelled to laud the actions of the recording industry who have won their case against Jammie Thomas who shared 1,702 songs over the Kazaa network and has thereby been ordered to pay $222,000 as a settlement to the music industry. I am most certain that banishing this deserving Native American burglar of beats and mother of two into abject poverty will undoubtedly cure the ills of a flagging industry. One things for certain, the white man has certainly not done enough to her people. She must continue to suffer the slings and arrows of great misfortune so that Lars Ulrich and record company CEO’s (all 4 of them) can rest easy at night and not worry about improving the quality of the disposable product they are spewing onto the market. Bravo, music industry, bravo.

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