April 28, 2011

When you live here in New York, you don’t do a lot of the stuff that people who visit here do. For instance, unless I have a specific reason to go there, I avoid Times Square like the plague. I’ve written about how I don’t like the bright, shiny, family-friendly area that it’s turned into and I just don’t like to be there. But, some of the stuff there may not be so bad after all, how would I know? I’ve never really checked most of the new stuff out there. I’ve decided here at MAD that every once in a while, I’ll do something called: “Tourist Trap OR A Place That’s Actually Worth Checking Out.”

Tonight I thought we’d visit Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Odditiorium deep in the heart of Times Square. I wanted to make sure they were open late, so I went to their website and went to find their answers on their FAQ page of their website.
But...believe it or not, that question wasn’t asked. So I tried calling and...believe it or not, I accidentally called the fax number and got my fucking eardrum blown out. Finally I found out that...believe it or not, they’re open till one in the morning!

And so, let’s find out if Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Odditiorium is a: Tourist Trap OR A Place That’s Actually Worth Checking Out.

This place is within walking distance from work. Straight up 7th avenue to 42nd street.

Someone alert the fire department, terrorist's have set Lady Gaga's tits on fire! Run and hide!

Okay, here we are at 42nd street, we'll hang a left...

And run into a giant McDonald's sign.

Yeah, save up a lot of dough for a trip to New York and then eat in McDonalds. Warning though: They don't have the McRib in here.

And, believe it or not, here we are.

I like this sign, maybe this place will be cool.

I rarely do as they've led me down so many empty rabbit holes through the years. Okay, let's check this place out!

Wow, they've got Joey Ramone's right tennis shoe on display in here. I don't believe it!

Holy cow! A big stuffed cow! I don't believe the stuff in here! They should rename this place, "Crazyville!"

Wow! A big metal hand! And I can touch it! Excuse me, Ripley's people...I don't believe this! It's pure insanity!

Holy smokes, a picture of a guy with a big cigar...UNBELIEVABLE!

Look at this unbelievable fat woman who probably hasn't washed her private parts for decades. I bet she doesn't smell very well at all. This is all just too hard to believe!

it's a statue of a giant horse! Ripley's, stop toying with my sense of believability! Because, quite frankly, I don't believe any of this!

Holy shitballs, a flying crocodile! Do you believe this shit? Because I truly don't!

Am I really looking at this crazy elephant or is my mind just totally blown? I don't know what to believe anymore after all of this!

Wow, look at this crazy cylindrical device. Okay, I'm screaming. "Uncle" and getting out of here! You got me Ripley's! I can't believe this place even exists!

And the craziest thing of all, I spent close to thirty bucks to look at that shit...I don't believe it! Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.

The Verdict

Tourist Trap OR A Place That’s Actually Worth Checking Out?

Souvenir!

I thought that everytime I go on one of these tourist expeditions I'd buy a souvenir from the gift shop. Tonight I got this little glass. I figured it would probably cost around $9.99. I was shocked when I found out it was only $4.99. I couldn't believe it!

Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Odditiorium
234 West 42nd Street (between 7th and 8th Ave.)
212-398-3133

Further reading: Ripoff Report, Wikipedia, Grunnen Rocks and Cher.

You might also like: Winkin’, Blinkin’ and Nod.

Four Famous Lies
I am not a crook!
I did not have sexual relations with that woman!
Read my lips, no new taxes.
I’m married to Morgan Fairchild.

I don’t know how to write a big hit song,
And the crossword puzzles well I just shun.

ARCHIVES

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Bonus Photo!

Gene Rubbico from the BBC shot this photo when he and Smoopy visited here a couple of weeks ago. It's the Flatiron Building and it's one of my favorite buildings in New York. I've never been able to get a decent shot of it, but Gene took this beautiful photo. Thanks for sharing it, Gene! See you in May!

April 27, 2011

First off, you should go check Goggla’s blog post about the Mars Bar last Sunday. She has some great photos from the day. Check it out here: The Gog Log. And check out her flickr page for more fabulous photos from Goggla.

Last week, after being inspired by a post at Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York, I went out in search of the ever-elusive, glass swizzle stick. I ended up with a plastic one, but it kind of struck a spark in people. Karen McBurnie from Grade “A” Fancy sent in photos from her collection of swizzle sticks and Jaws and Jason both donated glass swizzle sticks to the MAD collection I’ve started. And there are pending swizzle sticks on the way from “Boris” and the fine blog, One More Folded Sunset.

I’ve decided that every Tuesday will be “Swizzle Stick Swag Night” here at MAD. Basically, I’ll go to a bar and see if I get a swizzle stick in my drink and what other goodies are there like matchboxes, etc. I’m always going to order the same drink—double gin and tonic in a tall glass, which should be accompanied by a swizzle stick in my humble opinion. And, not to be barking up Lyndon Johnson’s barbecue-soaked asshole, but I do feel like my opinion carries a little weight. I did go to 365 bars in a row last year, after all. Harumph.
I thought that for the very first official, Swizzle Stick Swag Night, I’d pick a bit of a ringer. One of the more high end bars I visited last year on my bar crawl was the Brandy Library. It’s really upscale, but at least on the night I went there, it was friendly and attitude free. I didn’t get a swizzle stick then, but I had a beer and two short drinks, not drinks you’d associate as being swizzle stick-friendly. Let’s go order the double gin and tonic and get rolling on the first of what will be many Swizzle Stick Swag Night. I’m so excited!

Deja view, here we are at Penn Station again.

For once I had a nice escalator ride down free from the dreaded escalator walkers. Nice!

Okay, one minute till train-time!

And 59 seconds later, here's the train! Everything's working out nicely tonight. I love it when that happens.

And through the magic of the internet, you're spared the subway ride and me getting lost for about twenty minutes in Tribeca. It's confusing down here. But here we are, the Brandy Library. Swizzle me dizzle!

Some of the top shelf liquor available at this fine drinking establishment.

Ah, nice and dark in here, definitely an Al bar!

And check it out, the "Librarian" on duty was none other than, Josimar, who mixed drinks for me last year on the bar crawl. It was good to see him again.

I ordered the double gin and tonic and he set about mixing it up. First the ice...

Josimar suggested this gin, which is served exclusively at the Brandy Library.

Tonic and a lemon wedge are added...but where's the swizzle stick?

Houston...we have Swizzle Stick! And it's a nice one. It's not glass, but it is sturdy plastic emblazoned with a gold brandy snifter at the top. Very nice!

Here's some of the top shelf liquor on top of the bar.

Here's Shawn Rhynehart who's the manager of the Brandy Library. Shawn started out in this industry at age 15 and has done everything from washing dishes to bartending to now managing this high end saloon. He's hoping to open his own place within a year or two. Best of luck to you, Shawn, I hope when you do open your establishment it's in Manhattan!

Swizzle Stick Rating
The Brandy Library is an upscale institution in Tribeca that is an attitude free zone. The bartenders/librarians are more than happy to suggest drinks from the massive list and even if you’re a newbie to the high class cocktail world, they are happy to serve you and answer any questions.
Their swizzle stick isn’t glass (will that ever be found in my travels, only time will tell and as usual, time ain’t talking) but it is sturdy plastic and a nice shade of brown. A brandy snifter emblazoned in gold leaf shines at the top of the cirlcled swizzle stick. A nice addition to the MAD collection. Plus I took a cocktail napkin which had their logo on it. I couldn’t find a pen to steal. Maybe next week.
Brandy Library
25 N. Moore St. (@Varick St.)
212-226-5545

Further reading: Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York, New York magazine, NY Times and Shecky’s.

You might also like: Pete Best, Peat Moss and Kate Moss.

Three Types of Brandy and the Sea
Chandon's Brandy
Brandy
Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl)
But my life, my lover, my lady...is the sea.

Pirate skulls and bones,
Sticks and stones and weed and bombs.

ARCHIVES

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Bonus Swizzle Sticks!
Karen McBurnie from Grade “A” Fancy sent in these photos of more swizzle sticks from her prized collection. The first two have paper rolled inside of the glass and the third is a Friars swizzle stick. How cool! Thanks, Karen!

Bonus Movie!
And speaking of Grade “A” Fancy, the other half of that publishing team, Jon Hammer made this genius movie starring my recently acquired Gumby bag versus my arch-enemy, cardboard box man. It’s a chilling and high stressed film, so don’t say I didn’t warn you, it’s not for the weak-hearted! Thanks for making this, Jon! Too cool!

April 26, 2011

Okay, I’m really hungover tired tonight and so I’m skipping the Papaya Wars for a week (that applause you hear is coming from Miami...who could it be?) and I’m just going to do a random quickity blickity blog tonight. I’ve decided to go to Penn Station again. I know I went there last week, but it’s always full of people and a good majority of the shops and stores are open all night long. So it’s a good place to get some decent shots and then get home and try out my new keyboard. If the blog is blank tomorrow, you’ll know it didn’t work.

Easter Sunday at Mars Bar: Priceless.

New keyboard and mouse after drunkenly spilling a 16 ounce beer all over them after you got home: $106.

Here we are, Penn Station.

And here's some asshole that just pushed by me to walk down the escalator...

Because apparently there was just no room for him on the stairs. Asshole!

Wow, it's kind of empty in here. Is everyone on spring break?

Let's see what's happening at Duane Reade.

What a difference a week makes. Stock up for next year. Let's go see if the cards section have cleaned up their act.

Lyndon Johnson humor? What, are in 1965 or what?

Now that's just wrong! Let's get out of here!

Too bad this is closed, I'm wondering if they have Curly fries in here.

Well, well, well...look what I stumbled upon.

They've got beer in here!

Hair of the dog, Lloyd!

And speaking of dogs...well it is Monday night after all. Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.

And now, a short film: Click here to go to film.

Further reading: Amtrak, Wikipedia, NYC.com and Cafe Press.

You might also like: Sean Penn, Penn and Teller and Pens.

Four Hangover Cures
About.com
AskMen
Forbes
WikiHow

My makeup is dry and it cracks round the chin,
I’m drowning my sorrows in whiskey and gin.

ARCHIVES

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Bonus Photo!

Ace photographer Jefferson Siegel sent in this photo from the Mars Bar festivities on Sunday. About 14 beers later and my keyboard would be history. Great to meet you Jeff and thanks for sending in the photo!

April 25, 2011

Okay, it’s Michael O’Keefe’s birthday and it’s Easter Sunday. That can mean only one thing...MARS BAR!

Last year I bought pizza for everyone at the Mars Bar, but this year, they're having a BBQ, so I thought I'd bring dessert. I spent all night Saturday decorating this special Jesus Easter cake for the event. And it is special, isn't it? Okay, the rest of the pictures are going to be caption-less, because as Rod the Mod once sang: "Every picture tells a story, don't it?" And there's a million stories inside the Mars Bar. And I don't have time to type them. Especially since I came home drunk out of my mind and spilled beer all over my keyboard and now my computer doesn't work. I came in to work early to post this (I'm off the clock for any of my bosses reading this.) I don't feel too well right now, but yesterday was a ton of fun! Here's a little glimpse of the festivities. But you really had to be there and I'm sorry if you weren't. I think I had a really good time.

The Mars Bar
Another epic Easter at the Mars Bar. People always ask me what was my favorite night on the 365 Bar Crawl and I never hesitate when I say it was last Easter at the Mars Bar. I always have so much fun there. I don’t go that often because I’m always nervous that for some reason it won’t be as much fun as the last time, but it always is. I think it’s because everyone lets their guard down in there. It’s one of the true non-judgmental zones I’ve ever been in.

What a night. It was great to see Terry, Hamlet, Lisa, Goggla, Ed, Eric, Bob, Bob’s two friends, the guy with the white beard, the giant Easter bunny and the guy who had a trash bag on and was kind of dressed like an alien and everybody else who was in there. I’d like to try and describe the feeling, but you had to be there. I will tell you that when I heard “Good Vibrations” coming out of their classic jukebox and everybody was laughing, drinking and shoving things into the Jesus Easter cake, it felt like one of the best times of my life. Another Epic Easter at the Mars Bar. Where will we be next year at this time? Only time will tell and hopefully time will be on our side. I hope to see everyone again. Mucho love to the Mars Bar and all that inhabit it. Happy birthday Michael O’Keefe!
Long ago it must be, I have a photograph,
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you.
—Paul Simon

The Mars Bar
25 E. 1st St. (@Second Ave.)
212-473-9842

Further reading: EV Grieve, Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York, Nadie Se Conoce, The Gog Log and Village Voice.

You might also like: Rubber Bands, Band on the Run and The Band.

Six People Born on April 24th
Michael O’Keefe
Jim Capaldi
Shirley MacLaine
Eric Bogosian
JIll Ireland
Cedric The Entertainer

 

Running: Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday,
Saturday Sunday,
What have I done?

ARCHIVES

April 24, 2011

Live, from New York it’s Cheeseburger Saturday Night. Starring my apartment with a special appearance from the Food Emporium in Union Square and featuring the Ready for Prime Beef Player, Marty Wombacher. And now, please welcome, my apartment!

I thought I'd stay home tonight and make a cheeseburger from home. Tomorrow's a big day at the Mars Bar, so I decided to stay home. But we have to go get ingredients so it's off to the Food Emporium we go. And now...Fruit! From the Farmer's Market on 14th Street.

Regular tomatoes are $1.99. I wonder how much the irregular ones are? They usually taste better.

Holy shitballs, they're selling computers here for 99 cents! I wonder how much the iPickle is going for?

Union Square Park is a little lively as it's finally starting to warm up a little.

And here we are at the Food Emporium to get our ingredients for tonight's homemade cheeseburger.

Bananas!

Check this out.

It's a scale for customers to use.

So you have to climb up on this thing to weigh yourself? And you'd fall right over yourself trying to read the results. This thing is a lawsuit waiting to happen!

Okay, all the ingredients are in place, back to my apartment to make tonight's Saturday Night Cheeseburger.

And here's the ingredients for tonight's cheeseburger meal. From left, red chili popcorn, ground sirloin, Jerk Sauce (yes, I bought it just so I could type in the words, "Jerk Sauce"), A.1. Sauce and in the front a Kaiser roll and WisPride Sharp Cheddar cheese spread. Everything one could want for a cheeseburger meal.

And the background music is my favorite Rolling Stones album, "Beggars Banquet." I added a little graffiti, see if you can find it.

Here's the burger seasoned with pepper, hot curry powder and a liberal dose of mustard powder.

I made a marinade of the A.1. Sauce, Jerk Sauce (Jerk Sauce!) and a dollop of Italian dressing. We'll let that sit in the fridge for about a half an hour and have a beer or three.

Okay, a half an hour and four beers (burp) later, here's the burger cooking in my electric skillet.

I applied a couple of mountains of the WisPride cheese spread and covered to let it melt.

And here it is in all its melted glory. Holy smokes, its grown cheese tits!

I cut the Kaiser roll in half and spread cheese on them put them in the toaster oven. Okay, time to put this all together.

And here it is, in all its cheesey glory, tonight's cheeseburger.

And here's the entire meal, plated with the red chili popcorn.

A great burger, if I do say so myself and I just did, so there! And what did I watch while eating this feast?

Fugitive Girls! It came in the mail today, look for it next Friday night. Goodnight and see you all tomorrow after dark.

My Meal
This is the best cheeseburger I have ever made and it was inspired by the cheeseburger I had at Whitman’s. Mine wasn’t quite as good, so Whitman’s is still the one to beat. The popcorn went well with the burger and there is no finer movie to watch while eating a cheeseburger, some popcorn and a beer than Fugitive Girls!

Cheeseburger Rating: Three Wimpy’s

Further reading: Food in Mouth, cooks.com, Cheese-Burger.net and Homemade Vs. McDonalds.

You might also like: Fuzzy Vodka, Fuzzy Duffy Bags and Fuzzy’s Taco.

Five Cheese Jesus’s
Cheese Jesus on Uncyclepedia
Grilled Cheese Jesus
Three Cheese Jesus Pizza
Cheese Toast Jesus
Cheeto Jesus

We ain’t got no friends,
Our troubles never end,
No business cards to send,
Daddy likes men.

ARCHIVES

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Bonus Photos!

We've been on a swizzle stick kick here, inspired by a post at Jeremiah's Vanishing New York a few days ago. Yesterday, Grade "A" Karen sent in some photos of some swizzle sticks from the collection she and Jon have over at the Grade "A" Fancy publishing and cocktail compound. Check these out!

April 23, 2011

A few posts ago the Mad list was comprised of legendary filmmaker Ed Wood films. While Googling around I found one I had never heard of called, “Fugitive Girls” (he wrote it and had two brief parts in it, as Pops and a Sheriff.) It looked great! And Jaws commented that he had a copy. So I went to Amazon (yeah, I know, I should’ve tried to buy it locally after all my preaching, but I was in a hurry) and found it on DVD. As I was leaving for work, the package was on the landing in my apartment building, just in the nick of time. It was a real Bonnie Raitt moment. I really felt like dying my hair red and then marrying and divorcing Michael O'Keefe (who's birthday is coming up and flea markets in NYC are closing in honor of it.) But I had to get to work, so I left the package on the landing. Let’s go get it and then it’s: Lights, Camera...Wood!

Okay, this is my block, almost home.

And here's the box on the landing, almost movie time! Let's take it upstairs and open it up.

Wow, this thing is really packed solid!

This doesn't look like a DVD, what is this?

It's the glass swizzle sticks that Jaws sent me! Thank you so much, Jaws! They are really cool and boy do I feel guilty as I haven't sent him the John Lennon drawing he won here the other week. I'll put it in the mail today Jaws, and thanks again!

The least I could do is to put up a link for Jaws' fine book, "Two Fisted Cab Driving Tales." It's a great read and I have a copy and so should you. You can order it here: Two Fisted Cab Driving Tales.

And check out Jaws' online store right here: Jaws the Cabbie Store.

I'm going to start collecting swizzle sticks. Here's the collection so far: The glass ones on the left are from MAD commenter Jason Hwang (I traded a skull shotglass for them), the the Jaws set and last and least the shitty one from Sir Harry's. I should've saved the Blarney Cove straw, but I wasn't thinking. And now, since I thought Fugitive Girls was waiting for us, I don't have a movie for tonight. Well, let's just watch some trailers from YouTube and call it a night.

Here's the trailer for Fugitive Girls, which I'm sure we'll watch next week. “Betrayed by her lover; Pimpkiller; Dope Smuggler; Bank Embezzler; Lesbian—Leader of the pack!”

I love the smell of napalm in the morning...

Do you know what it takes to sell real estate?

My advice to you is to start drinking heavily.

Mommy...

It just doesn't matter!

He's very clean.

Further reading: Killed by Dreck, amc film critic, Avax and The Deuce.

You might also like: Clown Handkerchiefs, Lollipop Tits and Strawberry Socks.

Five Fugitives
Abbie Hoffman
I Am A Fugitive From a Chain Gang
Robert Vesco
Frank Abagnale Jr.
The Fugitive

Mr. Congressman,
You can’t understand.

ARCHIVES

April 22, 2011

If you follow this blog, you’ll recall that Tuesday I was inspired by a post about Sardi’s Bar and swizzle sticks at Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York to go seek out a glass swizzle stick. I went to Sir Harry’s, one of the cities pricier and upscale taverns in the Waldorf Astoria and was disappointed when I only got a shitty plastic one in my 41 dollar drink.

It got me thinking it would be fun to travel to the other end of the spectrum and order the same drink and compare experiences. I didn’t have to think too long to come up with the flip side of Sir Harry’s: Blarney Cove!

I had to work late again tonight, so we'll be traveling by taxi. Sweet overtime!

And here's a yellow chariot.

And we're off to the Blarney Cove.

A shot from a moving cab at 12:37 in the morning.

Okay, it's right down the street here.

And here we are at the Blarney Cove, one of the last true dive bars in the city.

Neon in the window advertises Budweiser American Ale.

Golly, what a shock.

Let's go in and see what's what in here and check out their version of a double gin and tonic.

I ordered the double gin and tonic from a lovely and friendly bobbed-haired Asian bartender. It was ten bucks, which I thought was a little pricey for the Blarney Cove, but it sure as shit beats 41 bucks.

Instead of a swizzle stick you get a discreetly covered plastic straw for a stirrer.

Here's a shot of one end of the bar.

And here's a shot of the other end of the bar. After I took this, the bartender said no pictures are allowed in the Blarney Cove. So I put my camera away and ordered another double gin and tonic. I got a buy back after just two drinks. That's the kind of place this is. Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.

The Blarney Cove has quite a different crowd as the shift changes. It opens at 8am and that’s the time of day you should go to witness the true spirit of this East Village dive bar. Years ago I worked a job where I got off at seven in the morning and I used to go to the Blarney Cove now and again at the first opening bell to escape the sunshine and the harsh and cruel morning 9 to 5 crowd of coffee drinkers and glad handers hustling and bustling about in a manner that's never made me feel comfortable. Old timers would shuffle in and start the day with a draft and a shot. I remember one morning when a guy who looked like a walking corpse slowly hobbled his way inside the dark and dingy tavern and carefully made his way to a stool at the bar. His eyes were sunken and a curious combination of yellow and red. They kind of resembled egg yolks having a period. His skin was gray and the few white hairs jutting out of his bloated head looked like bleached white straw. Once he got situated he promptly passed right the fuck out on top of the sticky formica bar. The bartender on duty laughed, poured out a beer and a shot and shook the fellow awake. He got up, dutifully drank his breakfast and then—boom—out again. There was never a lot of chatter and the music played on the jukebox was mainly old soul with a ratpack song here and there. Two peanut machines in the back offered solid food, for those that could keep it down. Most of the regulars stuck to cheap drafts and shots at regular intervals. It might have been sunny outside, but inside the Blarney Cove it was always a nice permanent midnight on my morning visits there. I seem to remember cartoons playing on the TV, but that could just be a drunken memory. I do know one thing for sure though, I’m usually a nervous wreck, but I always felt nice and calm while drinking a beer at eight in the morning at the Blarney Cove. The rest of the world may be starting the working day, but mornings at the Blarney Cove are a magical drunken mess.

At night there’s still some of the regulars, but there’s also a smattering of hipsters and curiosity seekers. I also noticed that they have an internet juikebox now. The music blaring from it was bad pop music and some rap and hip hop. I hate the morning, but the Blarney Cove is the rare place where the am trumps the pm big time.

Blarney Cove
510 E. 14th St. (Near Ave. A)
212-473-9284

Further reading: Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York, EV Grieve, New York magazine and Time Out New York.

You might also like: Cock Soup, The Sizzler and Chicken Fried Babies.

Three Internet Articles on Liver Disease and a word from Snoop Dogg.
Medline Plus
Wkipedia
Mayo Clinic
Snoop Dogg

Oh, Foot Foot,
I wish I could find you.

ARCHIVES

April 21, 2011

Before I even begin tonight I want to write about an email I got tonight that really bugged the everloving shit out of me.

I get tons of spam email. And I really don’t mind most of it. Here’s one I got earlier in the evening from a certain, fj.becker. It starts off with the enticing subject of: “Good evening darling,” And then when I opened it up I was presented with this message and clickable link:

When you read it, it’s almost like some sort of kooky, free-form poetry. Look at it in a normal text and grammar setting:

Sandwich...
Watch big dicks fuck the tiny sluts so hard!
Mysterious...hides...
Flies into a rage!
Guardian angels cab driver...

Not too bad, huh? Shit, I might get some tea-shades, a black beret and some bongos and start a whole new career. Swing, baby...swing!

Anyway, the point I’m trying to make here is that your run of the mill porn/Viagra/heir to a fortune emails don’t bother me in the least. I find a good chunk of them entertaining. But then every now and again you get one that seems innocuous at first, but then gets under your skin quicker than a wood shaving while walking barefoot on Coney Island's boardwalk. Here’s the one I’m talking about:

I hate the way this thing starts off with: “Guess what, Martin?” And then they tell you the answer before you can even guess! It’s like asking you a riddle and then not giving you time to try and answer it. It would’ve been a cool marketing ploy to start off with, “Guess what, Martin?...(we’ll let you know in an email in an hour, till then, have fun guessing what we’re going to email you!)”

That would have been fun and I would’ve been guessing right up to the moment I got the email back in the following hour. What in the world were they sending me? Maybe a picture of a basket of radioactive puppies with eyeballs blazing in the color of electric Cheez Whiz! Maybe it would be a photo album of tiny sluts getting fucked by big dicks really hard. Perhaps an offering of a glass swizzle stick emblazoned with a tiny etching of Michael Nesmith.

But I had no fun guessing, because they told me one space later. And I received this lame-ass offer because I bought my dad a bathrobe for Christmas from RedEnvelope (it was monogrammed, I’m no cheapskate!) And that purchase allows me entry into an exclusive club of lucky charmers who get 15% off baskets of chocolate covered strawberries from some god-forsaken place called Shari’s Berries.

Oh Shari, first off thank’s so much for that Steve Perry moment. I had forgotten all about that fucking song and now it’s going to be stuck in my head along with this one. Great.

Secondly, I’m highly suspicious that this “Shari” person even exists. It’s just too much of a coincidence that her name rhymes with the item she’s selling online. Shari’s probably some fat, unshaven slob named Lou from Newark, New Jersey who buys vats of strawberries and chocolate at Costco and then sells them online at inflated prices. He probably smells like he’s been marinating in pastrami, Yoo-hoo chocolate drink and out-of-date Aqua Velva for the last fortnight or three.

And speaking of inflated prices, this majestic “deal” that they’re offering me is six chocolate covered strawberries for $24.99! What the fuck kind of mind-blowing, bizarro “deal” is that? That’s over four dollars a strawberry! And I don’t even like strawberries. And the fact that they’re covered in chocolate is making my skin crawl. And yeah, I know I blew 41 bucks on one drink last night, but at least that thing had about a half a pint of gin in it. All you’re going to get from these things are probably a bad case of the hives.

And Shari is not only trying to rip me off with her exorbitantly high-priced berries, she’s condescending as all hell! Check out this line: “Delight family and friends with a Half Dozen Dipped Fancy Berries.” Yeah, as if my family and friends are such low-life, wild and wooly knuckle-draggers that they’d be simply delighted by the chance to have their very own chocolate covered strawberry. What are you going to try and sell me next Shari? Shiny colored beads that sparkle when light hits them?

And the icing on the over-priced strawberry is this line: “Order today, before it’s too late!”

Too late for what? What, if I don’t order right now something horrific is going to happen? Are animals going to start spontaneously exploding, killing farmers and small children in their bloody, fur-flying wake?  Is Armageddon going to reign down from the heavens above because I didn’t buy your four dollar berries? I can just see tomorrow’s headline in the NY Post now:

I’m sorry Shari, I’m going to hit delete now and get rid of your despicable offer as I’ve got other pressing things to attend to. There’s tiny sluts being fucked really hard by big dicks on the internet right now for God’s sake and I don’t want to miss out on that shit!

Okay, tonight’s going to be kind of a simple one, because I’m beat. I was out late last night and didn’t get much sleep and I'm tired. I just thought we’d go over to Penn Station and fuck around.

And here we are. I thought we'd enter from the back of the station tonight, I'm sick of taking pictures of the front of it.

Everyone's stationary on the escalator, nice!

I think this is a mobile art piece called, "A Blast From The Past."

(Joke that only EV Grieve readers will get alert!) There's an angry mob from the East Village protesting the hot chicks in this window.

Let's see what's happening in the Duane Reade store.

There's the Easter stuff, let's go check it out.

Wow, look at all the Easter goodies.

These Easter lambs are sniffing each others chocolate asses. That's kind of gross.

Easter grass, how appropriate, seeing as I'm taking this picture on 4/20.

I thought I'd check out the magazine section. If this woman is trying to look hot, she should try to put on more clothing. She looks a little chilly in this shot.

The greeting card aisle! Let's check out the wholesome humor that these cards always bring.

What kind of card is this doing here? Children could see it!

This is just vulgar! What kind of cards are these?

While I agree with the sentiment here, I don't know if it belongs on a greeting card!

Now this is just too much! Date rape is nothing to be laughing about! Outrageous! I'm going to go home and write a letter to Duane Reade about this! It's just sickening!

Ah, home sweet home! I think I'll have a beer before I write my letter to Duane Reade.

AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Further reading: Culture Vulture, BRB, Owned and Fail.

You also might like: Exploding Rabbit, Exploding Toads and Big Jim McBob and Billie Sol Hurok.

Half a Dozen Sluts
Reality Sluts
Co-ed Prison Sluts
Red-Headed Slut
Slut Soup
Bret Michaels
Mary Magdalene

Nothing hurts like a silent stare,
Nothing bleeds like a broken man,
I broke in cause it’s cold out there.

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