It’s a balmy 16 degrees here in NYC. Which, I guess, is just warm enough that your penis won’t freeze when you pee against (in this particular guy’s case) the wall, the street, your shoes, maybe a little bit on the dog who was chastened by your urinary boldness.
Good morning from the bus. The lady with the baby onesie tied around her head and the e-cig wants you to know she’s “got you” today.
Because I can’t get enough, here’s the moment when John Travolta’s brain exploded. His wig must be “wicketly” tight. https://vine.co/v/MA7z1mQDL7B
4) John Travolta and his wig stole the show. When he whispered sweet nothings to all of us (“Thank you. I love you.”) and then butchered Idina Menzel’s name (“Adele Dazeem”). We love you too, John.
3) This Oscars has been brought to you by drugs.
2) Brother of Liza. Son of Judy. How’d you like to be….Joey Luft.
1) Somehow Harrison Ford’s decision to have pizza is a surprise to absolutely no one. Especially no one who has ever smoked large quantities of pot before.
So the Oscar pre-show is happening. And it feels like every party you’ve ever been to where you tried to start up a conversation with someone way out of your league. I keep waiting for one of these interviewers to ask someone if they’ve tried the hummus dip or if they too prefer a quiet night at home with the collected works of Shakespeare. Not that that conversation happened (recently).
I happened upon a Very-Public-Television-Show about Irish squirrels. Maybe Irish birds? Whatever it was there was a fierce amount of pan flute (maybe recorder?) and some bagpipe over slo-mo footage of a couple of wildly boring animals attacking each other in the style of River Dance. Note: If you ever need to fall asleep in under a minute, this is the program for you.
After a few weeks of paralyzing snowstorms, hibernation-style eating, and sporting-events-played-by-other-people much of NYC remembered that they will be a little more nude in the not-too-distant future and made a lemming-style dash for a collective jiggle around the park. And today in this part of the first world, the earth shook with regret.
Got in some luge practice on the sidewalk today. Or was it skeleton. Either way, gold!
I am on the phone with Citibank. And I am speaking with someone named Joe. Joe is “EXTREMELY fabulous” (he told me so himself). My name is also “Mrs. Waters.”
Rheumy. NYC snowstorm. Other park.