Goshdarnit!

I haven't been blogging much lately because all the words are being squeezed out of my head by paying gigs. Well, theoretically paying, anyway. I still have two weeks left of my boring old part-time job and I'm remembering why I quit fulltime freelancing the first couple times around—the unhealthy dependence one gets on one's mailman.

My day can be made or dashed to shit depending on what the mailman brings me. Today it was three crappy catalogs and a check for $150.00. Nothing to completely scoff at, but when you're owed five figures and have less than two in your checking account . . . well, it's a less than ideal situation.

But enough complaining about money. The big guy and I went to the members opening of the Gilbert & George show at the Brooklyn Museum last night and it was fantastic! Most everyone else was either at the bar or listening to the lecture, so we had the galleries to ourselves. What an awesome, fun, amazing show. I was so impressed I bought the commemorative umbrella!

Some lady friends and I dined at Walter Foods the other night and I highly recommend. We split a dozen oysters and then I had the lobster club. It wasn't cheap, but I didn't care. It's so nice to have good food I don't have to travel to get to. Hopefully they'll start having an oyster happy hour. That would assure my presence at least once a week. $2.50 a pop is just a little pricey for my broke ass at the moment.

Here's my Seattle column on women paying their way on dates. For some reason, this has incensed the Seattleites. I can never tell what's going to get them going. I could write about finger-banging Inky the cat and nobody would notice (not that I would ever do such a thing), but you tell some guy to quit his bitching and everyone gets tied up in knots. My Frisky column is about not moving on after a breakup.

My pals Ivan and Tricia got married last weekend, in one of the funnest weddings I've ever attended. And yes, I know funnest is not a word.

In closing, my friend Tracey has provided me—and you—with the most hilarious Judy song of all time. Frankenstein fans will particularly enjoy this.

Comments

[ks]

Great, thanks--now that song is going to be stuck in my head all weekend!

I cannot explain the ways of Seattleites. I'm merely with them, not of them.

[paul]

Dork! If you don't like paying for dates with women, don't date women who need you to pay. You're like the d-bags I used to go to bars with who complained about the smoke or people who wear earplugs at concerts...