Entries in West Village (12)

Friday
Jun032011

June 3, 2011

Okay, not a good night at work again, and I actually contemplated going to the Fortress of Solitude, for a second night in a row but I just couldn’t do that to my former co-pilot, Al! So I’m going to do something that I’ve been meaning to do for awhile. I’m going to go to a certain part of the city and wander around and try to get photos of people and ask them a question. This is the kind of thing that can fall flat on its face if no one will play along, but you never know till you try. We haven’t been to the West Village for awhile, so that’s tonight’s destination.

Okay, here we go. It's a little chilly out tonight. It was blazing hot this afternoon and now I'm stuck outside in short sleeves. It's kind of a short-pants, dime-a-dance moment. Whatever that means.

Okay, here we are in the West Village. Through the magic of the internet you're spared a subway ride which included four teenaged girls all screaming at each other with iPods plugged in their ears and texting nonstop as they all tried to talk louder than each other. God I hate the world. And here we are.

I almost bagged the whole idea because I'm really beat and wasn't really into it, but I ran into Ana on the corner and decided to give it a go. I asked Ana what she'd say to Mayor Bloomberg if she could and she said: "I'd like to tell him it should be legal to drink alcohol on the streets if you're doing it responsibly." Good answer, Ana!

I had trouble getting other people to pose for me on the street and a lot of people were traveling in packs and that was no good for this reporter on the street, so I wandered into a liquor store and found Peter. I asked him what he thought of the new law where you can't smoke in the park. His answer? "It's bullshit." Another perfect answer!

I have to confess as I wander down this lonely street, I'm just not that into doing this. I'm really tired and kind of feel like just going home and drinking some beer.

Pure horse, book 'em, Danno!

There was a video playing in this store window of a man getting a massage. I decided to move on before the "happy ending" happened.

Here's that door the Rolling Stones sang about.

Okay, I went full circle and ended up back at Christopher Street and Ana was talking to Boris on the corner. Boris agreed to have his picture taken and it was then I realized I only had two questions prepared and I had asked them already. I need to be better prepared next time I do this. So I had Ana ask Boris a question and she asked him what he liked about New York and what he disliked. His answer: "I like the fact that there's everything you could want in this city, but I don't like the fact that you can get lost easily in the West Village."

I started to ask this fellow a question and then realized who he was. Aaaaahhhhh! There's no escape!

Okay, I need to try this again when I'm not so tired. I decided to head homeward bound.

And for those of you keeping score, there's only one giant Budweiser left, so it looks like the orphans are going to have new home soon. In my stomach! Sip ahoy and see you tomorrow after dark. (Sip ahoy is a patented catch-phrase invented by Uncle Waltie. Use with permission only.)

Further reading: eHow, ? and the Mysterians, IMDb and James Shelley.

You Might Also Like: Poppy Seeds, The Seeds and Poppie.

Four Roads
The Yellow Brick Road
Tobacco Road
Thunder Road
Road Runner

I found out long ago,
It's a long way down the holiday road.

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Friday
May062011

May 6, 2011

Two of my favorite writers are Amy and David Sedaris. Last year when Biff came into town, she brought along tickets to see David Sedaris at the legendary Apollo Theater up in Harlem. It was a great night and it’s also when we met Tim “Clacky” Clack and his girlfriend, Shannon. You can read about that night here: David Sedaris at the Apollo Theater, sponsored by Biff!

Amy Sedaris has a new book out called, Simple Times—Crafts For Poor People. I recently bought it and I thought it would be cool to stalk her go to her apartment and see if she would sign it.

“And just how do you know where she lives?” You may be wondering.


Simple. I shelled out ten bucks for the New York City Celebrity Map.

I didn’t buy it specifically to stalk try to meet Amy Sedaris, I thought I might use it for some late night MAD adventures, but as I was looking the list over, there was her name, right below Antonio Banderas. I feel a little pathetic using a service that not only alphabetizes by the first name, but also thinks that the letter “M” comes after “N” in the alphabet.

But I’m going to trust them anyway. The address they give is in the West Village, and I do know that she lives in that neighborhood. As far as the exact address, get your own New York City Celebrity Map if you want to stalk try and meet Amy Sedaris. However I will let you know that Antonio Banderas lives at 50 Central Park West. And you owe me 53 cents for that information by the way!

And we're off. I have to tell you, I'm a little nervous about this whole thing. I'm trying to figure out what to say if I actually do get to meet her.

Let's stop in here for a little liquid courage.

The old beer with a straw in it hidden in a brown bag. Yeah, like a cop will never know what it is in this disguise!

Okay, now I'm nervous walking around with this beer on top of wondering what I'll say to Amy Sedaris if I get to meet her. One rule about being around funny people is not to try to be funnier than they are, because you'll never pull it off and you'll end up looking pathetic. But I don't want to come off as a total dud either. Sheesh, I'm a total nervous wreck right now and paranoid as shit with this 16-ounce can of unlawfulness in my hand. I just thought of what to say! I'll show her the map and how her name is beneath Antonio Banderas and then I'll say, "It says you're beneath Antonio Banderas and that's a total lie! You're much funnier and you didn't have to marry Melanie Griffith to get a green card." That's pretty good, right? Fuck, I'm throwing the beer away, it's just making me too nervous. I should've just gone back to the M&M store tonight. This is a crazy-ass thing to be doing!

Fancy psychic window alert!

You've got to love it when you look in a Mexican restaurant and there's a guy that looks like he's passed out wearing a sombrero. He kind of looks like Antonio Banderas!

Shit, I still need to get my mom a present! There's just not enough time in the day to get everything done.

Aaaaahhh! Quit reminding me that I'm a bad son!

Okay, we're almost there!

Here's the building and the door is wide open! Holy shitballs, maybe I can just walk in, find her apartment number on the mailboxes and go knock on the door. I'm going to wait out here for a few minutes first and practice that Antonio Banderas joke.

Shit, I'm across the street now. I went inside the building and there was a Spanish doorman behind a desk. I was tempted to ask if he was related to Antonio Banderas, but decided not to press my luck. He asked if he could help me and I asked him if he could ring Amy Sedaris's apartment and ask her if she would sign my book. He told me he couldn't give out any information about the building. I told him I didn't need any information, I was just curious if Amy Sedaris would sign my book. I added that I was a big fan, for emphasis. He told me he couldn't give out any information about the building. We volleyed back and forth a few more times and he started looking pretty nervous, so I decided to retreat before he called the cops. Now I'm standing here like some sort of failed Margaret Ray. This wasn't a very good night. Sorry.

I wonder what Antonio Banderas is doing right now at this moment? Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.

Amy Sedaris
Simple Times—Crafts For Poor People

Further reading and watching: amysedarisrocks.com, Amy Sedaris YouTube Channel, goodreads and Late Night.

You might also like: Jimmy Olsen, The Olsen Twins and Twins.

Five More Great Writers
Henry Beard
Hunter S. Thompson
Michael O’Donoghue
Fred Exley
Donn Pearce

Well all you ladies gather 'round
That good sweet candy man's in town.

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Bonus Photo by ragin' rr!

MAD commenter and quote-gatherer, ragin' rr sent in this photo from the front page of the Hartford Courant newspaper.

AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Tuesday
Apr192011

April 19, 2011

Hang on to your seats everybody, it’s time for the godamned thing that I can’t let go even though it’s the blog equivalent of beating a dead horse with a two year old tennis racket 10th excitement-packed edition of the Papaya Wars!

Last week The King held on to the number one spot for the third week in a row! Will he still be at the number one spot when this visit is done? Only time will tell, let’s head into another fucking hot dog stand battle and may the best Papaya come out on top! Banzai!

And it's off we go. I know you're probably sick of me bitching about the weather, but I'm still in a winter coat over here! I wish it would warm up already.

(Inside joke alert!) Walking past one of the city's many dollar pizza stores, I spied this fellow trying to snort salt off of the table. Three words: ROCK AND ROLL!

There's a familiar light ahead!

Signpost ahead...let the battle begin...

KHAAAAAAANN!!!!!!!

They have an extensive Papaya menu inside.

Everything looks good in here.

They have corndogs, but I can't face them again for awhile after that cold one in Times Square. Ecch!

I opted out for the regular Papaya dog and this gentlemen happily served it up.

There's tables in here, but no chairs. Let's settle in.

The hot dog looks good, but I forgot the vodka for the drink. Fuck! No patented Screwdapaya tonight.

Let's check out the signage in this place.

Oh, oh! Repeat signage, that's going to cost them valuable judging points!

Now wait a goddamned second! Whether you're hungry or broke? So you can just shuffle in here broke and stuff yourself with Papaya Dogs? Bullshit! This place would have half of the homeless population in here if that were true. I don't know about you, but I will not stand here and be lied to. Good night Papaya Dog!

On the way home I saw this sign, "Brunch With The Beatles." Now don't get me wrong, I'm a huge Beatles fan but Paul McCartney is starting to look like an old lady these days. And Ringo would just be staring at the bright and shiny silverware the whole time. And John and George...well, they must be pretty ripe these days, so I'm just going to pass. But thanks for the invitation. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.

This Week's Papaya Wars Standings.
As always the rankings go from worst to the best. (The latest entry is  in bold.)

9. Hell’s Kitchen Papaya: Because it’s not there anymore.
8. Papaya Dog in Times Square: They don’t have beer and I forgot to bring vodka. Plus my corn dog was borderline cold and they have a cracked window in there which can only mean bad luck to all who enter.
7. Papaya Dog at 6th Avenue and 4th: They’re liars!
6. Gray’s Papaya at 6th Ave. and 8th St: They don’t have beer but I did remember the vodka for my patented Papaya Wars Screwdapaya drink. New York Magazine delcares this the best of all Papaya’s but then tell’s us it’s endorsed by Mario Batali. Thinking about Super Mario in his shorts and orange clogs always cause me to lose my appetite, so that’s going to drag this place down in the ratings. And they get points knocked off for hopping on the dollar pizza wagon train that just keeps growing and growing. Plus I’ve got jury duty at 8:45 tomorrow. In the fucking morning tomorrow. KHHAAAAAANNN!
5. Chelsea Papaya: It’s clean, people were nice in there, but there’s no beer.
4. Gray’s Papaya on the Upper West Side: It brings back good memories and the signage is nice, but there’s no beer here and I don’t know if I’ll ever get that horrible taste of the papaya drink out of my mouth or mind.
3. Papaya Dog at 14th and 1st: The staff is super-friendly, it’s clean and the hot dogs are great there. However, they robbed me of my patented Ebony and Ivory ketchup and mustard shot! War is hell.
2. Penn Station Papaya: They’ve got beer!
1. Papaya King on the Upper East Side: They’ve got vodka...okay, you’ve got to bring it yourself and sneak it in, but still, this is the original Papaya King in New York City. They've been in the same spot on this block since 1932. The Beatles ate here on their first trip to New York when they appeared on the The Ed Sullivan Show. So does this put the King in first place for now? Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Gray’s Papaya
333 Sixth Ave. (@W. 4th St.)
212-627-9748


Further reading (This Papaya Dog doesn’t have much of an internet presence, so this list is a bit of a stretch:) Spalding Gray, Papaya Clothing, Bun candy and Smoking Hot Waitress.

You also might like: Sansabelt Pants, Barking Spiders and Bell Ringing.

Four Corndog Videos
Trailer for the Corndog Man
A corndog grows in Iowa
Chucheman (The barking dogs in the background = irony at its finest hour!)
Free corndogs!


When I'm home alone, I can think of other things to do,
But when I'm rollin' in forward motion, I think about only you.

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Bonus Photos!
MAD commenter and Leaf Girl blogger, Kari, sent in some Papaya War-inspired hot dogs that she grilled up over the weekend. The top photo looks almost as good as dogs the King would grill up himself. But that bottom photo...with ketchup...Hunt’s ketchup...AND A PICKLE! So wrong...so, terribly wrong! But Kari does redeem herself  by allowing my good friend Mr. Mustard into the shot for her variation of an Ebony and Ivory shot. Thanks for the photos, Kari!


Sunday
Mar272011

March 28, 2011

Okay, I’ve decided to dedicate Sunday nights to independent businesses. The only problem with this is that a lot of them close early on Sundays. So Sunday’s will be the rare MAD experience that occasionally starts in the early evening hours before it’s actually dark out. My two favorite kind of stores are bookstores and record shops, so we'll be seeing a lot of them on Sunday's. This week I’m going to a cool little record store on Bleecker street called, Rebel Rebel.

Ack! The brightness...it's all too much!

Check out this store on 14th Street. It's called, NYC Candy. Yet...

They don't sell candy! Now I don't know about you, but...

I want candy!

Private hooker joke between Biff and I alert: Ah, the Karavas Tavern, spanks for the memories!

Okay, we're on Bleecker, just a few blocks till we get to Rebel Rebel.

Speaking of hookers, this place is a real meat market. (Rimshot.)

And here we are, Rebel Rebel. The store's named after this David Bowie tune.

You don't even have to go inside to shop here.

But let's go in, it's freezing as fuck out here. Where is spring?

Okay, I went in and met the owner (I think he was the owner.) He was a real nice guy, but couldn't seem to understand what I was doing and why. He told me I could take a couple pictures. I told him I really needed to take more and he told me a couple would be enough. And again, he was being super-nice about it, so I asked if I could take ten and he said I could take five. Here's the thing, I don't know much about photography (other things I don't know much about: History, biology, algebra and no, I don't know what a slide rule is for) so usually I take about sixty photos and out of those I'll get about twenty good ones. So I'm really feeling the pressure here to get five decent ones in a row. Here's number one: A full shot of the shop. There's tons of records and CD's in the small shop.

There's a nice selection of rock and roll magazines in here, Mojo magazine is great!

This shot kind of sucked, I'm really feeling the pressure here.

A stack of Rebel Rebel shirts on top of a pile of albums.

The back wall has tons of magazines with Madonna on the cover. That's it, my five picture deal is done. I feel I did the best I could under the circumstances. Please don't rag on this place in the comments, it's a great store, the owner is just a little camera shy. If you're ever in New York, you should check it out.

I found a German import of "The Who Sell Out," one of my favorite records of all time. Since I bought something the owner agreed to one more photo and even took it himself. Squeezed an extra photo out of him! I felt really good about that. Yes, this is what my life has been reduced to!

And the sun has set. Look to the right of this photo for a reminder that the stupid-ass all-important Papaya Wars continue tomorrow, exclusively here at MAD! Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.

Rebel Rebel
319 Bleecker St. (Near Grove St.)
212-989-0770

Further reading: New York magazine, nycgoth, Turntabling and the Village Voice.

When I was a kid Sunday nights meant three things: School was starting the next day, my homework was never done and Ed Sullivan was on TV that night. Here’s five great Ed Sullivan moments via YouTube. You can only watch these if you've done your homework!
The Beatles
Richard Pryor
Topo Gigio
Plate Spinning
Senor Wences


 The Eiffel Tower and the Taj Mahal are mine to see on clear days,
You thought that I would need a crystal ball to see right through the haze.

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