keyed in: September 2005

the grouch once called himself a simple man who liked pretty things. what an admirable thing to be it seems to me. living in brooklyn. working in advertising. tons of fun with a slender frame and few cases of wit. drink up.

Friday, September 30, 2005

napkin night @ the roc

Wednesday, September 28, 2005


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Tuesday, September 20, 2005

new message

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new messages

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new messages

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mona jump on it, jump on it, jump on it

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great question nick

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Saturday, September 17, 2005

I believe

Crimson leather, light cotton padding, steel belt, four legs and four screws. Woody had dreams the others couldn’t fathom. He wanted to get away. There were bigger bars, with better looking customers. Why not dream big, right?

The Red Jack was good all, but think about all those new bars opening up in Las Vegas or Miami or any other city with insane amounts of extremely hot ass caressing his leather face. It was enough to make him peel. The thought consumed him.

He felt himself moving closer to the door everyday. A lot of it had to do with the patrons moving him around but he felt karma had a hand as well. I will get out of this place. “Woody’s moving up,” he told the other bar stools. “I’m through with this saloon shit, I’m moving on to bitches and bottle service.” They never responded.

Maybe tomorrow.

Vince, do you remember interrupting this phone call?

K and K thought it was funny

Later she kicked you out.

Great present for terrible house guests

Friday, September 16, 2005

Everyone's A Salesman

Abe always thought about going in. The thing was that he never saw himself allowing himself to allot the time to stop in. He probably wasn’t welcome either. The ornate designs of everything old seemed to cry expensive. What’s worse, he thought, is I too am old and this stuff used to be cheap. Moreover, it wasn’t that Abe didn’t like paying for things; it’s just that there were relatively few things he could legally pay for.

What Abe could afford was fruit. Then he stole a plastic knife. Carrying one in each hand, he walked into the antique store with a smile on his face and his scent in the air. Before it reached the clerk at the back of the store he heard him ask, “Just wandering around?” Rather than talking, Abe let his appearance speak for him. The man came around a chest of drawers and realized Abe wasn’t the sale he was looking for. With a sigh the man said, “Sir I’m very sorry, but this store can only accommodate paying customers.”

Abe thought about a retort but before one came to mind, a pair of what looked like paying customers walked in. “Just wandering around?” the clerk asked. Abe froze. “Take a look at anything you like,” the clerk said to couple. He then walked over to Abe and said, “Sir I afraid you have to leave.” Knowing this was inevitable; Abe walked out and took his scent with him. Down the street he sat down on a step he never got kicked off and began to work the melon. It took a few minutes with the plastic knife but eventually he got it. He ate his honeydew and thought, “I can’t believe the clerk in the antique store had a line.” Then he got up and left. A few of the flies that had been tailing him stayed with the melon.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

topher your post makes me look like this

downloadable fun

too bad this isn't the onion

what an onion peel

hhhhhwwhaaat kind of bathroom decor is this

full foot

can you feeeel the state 6

Thursday, September 01, 2005

keys like this are left out to be found and hopefully returned with interest

don't tell anyone where you got it

who knew there was such a thing as a black market for yo-yo's. after i got off work saturday, i tried to track down vince to prove to him that i was still alive and well. i found him ripping shreds of paper into tinier shreds of paper and even though i knew what was on his mind i asked him anyway. "i wannna cigarette so f*ck'n bad bengt" to which i replied, "try to take your mind off it vince." so we went outside and he busted out this yo-yo he had got himself for when his cravings hit really hard. then low and behold lindsay busted out a yo-yo too. i was feeling really out of place until i smelled something horrible behind me and felt a tap on my shoulder. a very homeless entrepenuer looked me up and down then opened his jacket to reveal a yo-yo. "it's yours if you want it," he said. never one to look a gift horse in the mouth i walked away walking the dog.

more font that you can imagine

lately i've been reading a handwriting analysis book. it has proved to be extremely interesting. while analyzing my own handwriting i noticed i liked the look of looked.

can you tell which one is my dad?