Posts tagged ‘public transportation’

Non sequiturs: vol. 1

– posted by russellmania3000

The problem with reading on public transportation, other than that it can put you to sleep and cause you to miss your stop, is that you can’t look up and check out whether other people are impressed with what you’re reading. Because if you’re looking for around for potential people to chat up, you’re not really reading, are you? Don’t give me this I-read-for-enjoyment/self-betterment crap. Books are fashion accessories, same as everything else on your person.

Is it just me or are keffiyehs the new buffalo plaid button-downs? In fact, in the last couple days I’m pretty sure I’ve seen some oversized purple or aqua buffalo plaid neckerchiefs with tassels, which pretty much qualifies as keffiyeh in the same way Chipotle qualifies as Mexican food. And we wonder why they hate us.

Christoph Niemann - I LEGO NY

The thing about walking downhill on ice is that it’s really easy to start moving diagonally but once moving diagonally it’s really hard to straighten out again. Walking uphill on ice won’t put you in the same quandary.

A woman getting cat called and a man getting stared down by a gay guy are not the same kind of uncomfortable. They’re just not.

The thing about getting idea for a project is that most of the time you just accumulate the idea but never really follow through on it. Maybe you return to it a few months later and realize it’s a terrible idea. If you’re lucky. If you’re unlucky, you start thinking you’re some kind of great idea man when you’re not and maybe you turn it into a start-up and lose some VC firm’s coin and ruin the show for everyone else.

I know that deep down I’m an awful person because I’m not that upset about all the lives drunk driving has claimed, but I am upset that Charles Barkley is off the air. Police are such cockblockers. This segment in which Bob Costas talks 2008 with John McEnroe and Sir Charles on HBO is amazing. No disrespect to Chris Webber, but for the last several years Charles has been the best basketball pundit in business, and outside of Bill Simmons and Nathaniel Friedman a.k.a. Bethlehem Shoals perhaps the best pundit in sports.

equine ass

A while ago Sam was talking about viral marketing and mentioned Ray-Ban’s cow-birthing-a-dude spot. So the guys from Never Hide Films actually contacted us to mention they had 2 new spots out, which is, I mean, hey thanks I guess but we don’t care. Even though Disco Ballers is marginally amusing, once you have a guy coming out a cow vagina all covered in amniotic fluid and chunks of gross, you’ve pretty much maxed yourself out in advertising and you might as well pack up and hit the beach. I think Sam’s tongue-in-cheek/backhanded compliment might have been lost on them had they read her piece at all, but I don’t think they did, which makes me wonder how many times it occurs that a blog pokes fun at – or outright tears new rectums in – a particular ad or product or institution or whatever and said entity’s marketing/web team gets wind of the fact that they’re mentioned in the post but doesn’t pay attention to the context and tries to cozy up to said blog without even realizing they are poor bedfellows.

For some stupid reason I decided not to watch the AC Milan game on Sunday and instead go to the Punk Rock Flea Market, which was so crowded that even if I had wanted to buy something, I doubt I’d have been able to reach for my wallet without groping three asses that were way too young for me to be groping. Every third person smelled of reefer or of just plain body stank. I spotted a mug shaped like a tree trunk with an owl peeking out of a knot in the side, which was actually kind of cool and surely one of a kind, but no, the girl working that table told me she was only selling that in a set of six. So what she meant by that was she wasn’t going to be selling them at all.

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February 3, 2009 at 9:20 PM Leave a comment

Public Conversation

the people's bus

I’ll start a conversation with just about anyone. Most strangers seem to know this about me, because they readily start conversations with me. Often times, the friends I am with just sit back and watch, as though they were a studio audience. This particular time, my friend had lost her voice the day before. Had she wanted to talk, it was virtually impossible to hear her, much less have the ability to interrupt the shitstorm that is a conversation with me. On a Friday night, this man stumbled onto the bus, and made eye contact with us. Luckily for him, the seat directly in front of us was free for him to lounge on, and he took it by force.

With lazy eyelids bouncing up and down with the wheels of the bus, he looked at us.

“Whasssss your name?”

“My name? My name’s Sam.”

“Sam. Sam.” He takes a swig of his black plastic bag.

“How you doin’ Sam?”

“Oh, I’m good. How are you?”

“Good. I’m real good.”

“What’s your name? I didn’t get your name.”

“Say, are you wearing make-up, Sam?”

“Yes.”

“You know who you look like, you look like the Joker!”

“Maybe that’s because I am. You enjoying the public bar?”

“Oh yeah, this the 800. The 800 bar. The Old E 800 bar.” This is accompanied by him pointing out each word on his can of beer in the plastic bag.

“You still didn’t tell me your name. What’s your name?”

“Jesus. You can call me Jesus.”

“Oh so you’re Jesus? You’re the second coming?” He nodded to assure me. I addressed the rest of the people on the bus. “Did you hear that? We have the new Jesus here with us! The new Jesus!”

“You’re funny, Sam. Why doesn’t your friend talk, Sam? Hey, Ashley! Why don’t you talk? Ashley! Say, what’s your friend’s name? Why don’t she talk?”

“Actually, herĀ  name is Ashley.” It was not.

“Nahhhhhh, you joshin’ me. You’re kiddin’.”

“I am not, I can’t believe you guessed it right.” Ashley was laughing too hard to defend herself and had no voice, so of course I ran with it.

“I can’t believe I guessed her name! That shit’s crazy. So what you ladies doing tonight, Sam? Where you going? I don’t even know where I’m going. I don’t know where my stop is…”

“Maybe going dancing, we’ll see.”

“Oh! You like to dance? What you like to dance to? Do you know how to PB&J?”

“Wha? Peanut Butter Jelly Time! Peanut Butter Jelly Time!” I keep chanting this, getting louder, and singing to everyone, while the new Jesus starts rapping.

“Now tic-tac-toe, oh yeah, tic-tac-toe, ya got it, Where he at? There he go!
Peanut Butter Jelly with a baseballĀ  bat.”

Needless to say, it was time for me to leave. I left my poor friend Ashley with the new Jesus. Maybe she would be the next Mary Magdalane, who knew. Only Friday night would tell. Jesus later pressed his cell phone to Ashley’s face, requesting she enter my number to his phone. Ashley of course, declined, but without first thinking maybe she should give Jesus my number, just for leaving her alone with him.

-posted by samsquared

December 18, 2008 at 4:06 PM Leave a comment


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