9 & 3/4

Welcome Back!

2010-06-08T13:38:00.000-04:00

Ladies and Gents,

Welcome back to 9 & 3/4. After much deliberation, tribulation, and downright exhilaration, I am excited to announce the return of 9 & 3/4, as well as the cancellation of The Blinking Red Light. While promising, I realized that The Blinking Red Light was simply me running away from my true calling: Harry Potter.

I am back and very excited to be living in New York City. Stay tuned for some special posts! New people, new characters -- it will be a blend of a lot of things.

Train Stops Here

2010-04-26T17:14:00.000-04:00

To the devoted followers of 9 & 3/4:

I regret to inform you that this, my 47th post, will be the last before 9 & 3/4 is laid to rest. But do not fear! Do not fret! 34 posts longer than Summer in Portland, 9 & 3/4 has been, for me, a great joy. I have enjoyed blogging the long and crazy nights of my last year as an undergraduate. I will continue to look back and re-read 9 & 3/4 to remind myself--literally--of nights spent traversing the city.

Check back in the coming days to find a link to 9 & 3/4's successor, The Blinking Red Light.

Cheers.

If It's Murder, You Know She Wrote It

2010-04-11T23:14:00.000-04:00

Thursday. 40z on 40. Forty days until graduation (37 now). Most beautiful day of the semester by far, 80 degrees, sunny, slight breeze. Doesn't get much better. Wake up around noon, hit the steps with my double egg/cheese/bacon on a roll from HamDel, ready to enjoy my day, ready to bone, 55th exit, damn, damn, already we home. Get some color, talk to people on the steps, go for a run. TyRone is in town for an ~~interview~~ (he got the job!), up from DC, and I'm super stoked for his arrival. 5pm, I drink a 40 of Bud heavy on the grass with Horchata and her little sister, young Babrams, who is in town from LA for the week, before Cherry Island's show in Dodge, which was da bomb. Drunk by 8 --> perfect for TyRone's arrival. He will stay with me for two nights....
Drink more 40z on the steps, under the night sky. Back to 9 & 3/4, change, wait for Cocks Anne before going to La Pregunta (135th & Amsterdam), where Stiletto Green is tending bar. Old familiar crowd is there, music is jumping, we drink more. TyRone burns his hand on the hookah. Ouch! Fly in that yellow car to Vareli; I order Long Islands for TyRone and I. Uh-OH. 2am, back to the pad with Cocks and new friend San Diego to say hello (and goodnight) to Ron Weasley. See Maple off at 445 - he's headed out to catch early flight to North Carolina to run hella fast on that circuit. Sleep, 5am.
Friday, wake up noon AGAIN. God damn! fucking love noon. Early afternoon errands. Then Tyrone and I hit up Campo for brunch, order a Mimosa, start my day off right. Milano and International for Mimosa (cont.) supplies, back to 9 & 3/4. Hang out all afternoon. Rufus and I are tending bar at another MusicForTomorrow event at a townhouse, Casa Frela Gallery, on 119th between Lenox and Fifth Ave. Make some loot, chill with the Bootlegger 21 boys, hit up afterparty @ 130th & Lenox. Fly hunnies and bunnies. Take many shots of vodka, pick up two PBR 40z on da way to party. On that 40z kick. 1am, back to school with Rufus to meet Sweats and TyRone, then 1020. Beer! Blends. Bootlegger boys want that college feel, they join us. Hilarious times ensue. 4am. Fire Alarm @ 9 & 3/4. TyRone and I meet up with Baloney and AJ and they come see Ron Weasley with us, listen to Notorious XX. Orgy in my bed. By orgy I mean sleep. They leave @ 625am exactly, Baloney set her alarm for sunrise. TyRone, welcome to the Big Apple, homie!

Glass Table; Reno; Happy Hour; Catcher in the Rye

2010-03-29T00:50:00.001-04:00

Last Sunday I bought an approximately 30"x30" glass table from this girl living next door in 514, who was moving out the next day. She was a GS student, born and raised in Reno, Nevada, who was moving back to LA, where she had lived before coming to Columbia. She was quirky, in a sense, but had an inexplicable attractive quality to her, so I didn't mind waiting for a few minutes while she talked and wiped down the table for me. I bought it from her for $15. Rufus helped me carry it home. The reason I mention the acquisition of the glass table is that, for several days, it sat leaned up against my window because it was too big to put anywhere. When Cherry Island came over on Wednesday to take a look at it, we decided to do a little re-arranging. An hour later my room was completely transformed -- except for the bed and closet. It is a refreshing new look. But it also makes me sad to think that I will only enjoy my new set-up for another six weeks, until graduation. Ron Weasley sits atop the glass table, next to some newspapers, books, and magazines. I also keep my wallet there now, a nice place to throw shit when I come home from a long night. Ha! Bet you thought I was going to say day. If you're able to secure the big gray comfy chair which sits between the closet and the table, you will find yourself in a fortunate position; at just the right angle you can combine perfectly the activities of watching the television and keeping close observation on the other people in the room (if there are any), all the while glancing over an issue of Time Out New York to learn about where you can go to drink cheaply on a Monday from noon to eight in the evening. I have my Religion & Politics seminar tomorrow morning at 11, but I think I may just stay up all night and read Catcher in the Rye. Fuck it, I'm a senior.

Spring Break: New York City Edition

2010-03-24T13:52:00.000-04:00

Drop. Drop. Drop. Rain. Wind. Rain. Rain. Wind. Home. Sunday. Through. Tuesday. Beginning. Beautiful. Weather. 4:59. Mile. Still. Fucking. Got. It. Superhuman. Sixty. To. Seventy. Degrees. Sunny. Dorrian's. Karaoke. Drank. Lots. Sang. Lots. Bruce. With. Gonzo. Sweats. Maple. Rufus. Horchata. Wholly. Foods. Tomb. Raider. P. Bear. Mazda. Blue. 3. Wednesday. St. Paddy's. Day. A. Behanding. In. Spokane. Christopher. Walken. Play. Absolutely. Amazing. Applause. Applause. Whole. Foods. Beer. Good. Beer. Lots. Of. It. 9. &. 3/4. young. BUC. Growlers. Saint. Tony's. Cornbeef. 14. Pounds. Blends. Guinness. Silk. Cuts. Cherry. Island. Heights. Rufus. Irish. Car. Bombs. Away! Old. Horse. Back. To. The. Stable. Very. Thirsty. New. Blends. Pop. Pop. Pop. I. Don't. Like. To. Pop. Thursday. Wake. Up. Disarray. Run. Hot. Unpleasant. Tomb. Raider's. Birthday. Downtown. LES. Kinski. Rivington. Norfolk. #128. Yum. Next. Cherry. Tavern. PBR. Shots. Next. Home. Drop. Horchata. Off. Cherry. Island. Chewbucka. Meet. Blends. UES. Pop! Next. Raines. Law. Room. Negroni. Negroni. Conversation. Good. Conversation. Ron. Weasley. 123. &. Hampsterdam. Bed. 5am. Friday. Wake. Up. 11am. Street. Cleaning. Sleep. Car. Few. Minutes. Gonzo's. Birthday! Bday. Brunch. Good. Enough. To. Eat. Absolut. Citron. Arnold. Palmer's. Drunk. By. 1pm. Pick. Up. Keg. Bud. Light. Basketball. Blends. Afternoon. Next. Billiards. Hall. Shake. Shack. Starved. Party. Begins. Around. 9. Pong. Another. Keg. OMAGA. Why. Did. I. Drink. So. Much? Haha. Just. Kidding. But. Seriously. First. Keg. Stand. In. Two. Years. Sixteen. Seconds. Full. Pump. Beat. BQ. Superhuman status. Don't. Throwup. Refuse. To. Throwup. Throw. Some. 999. In. There. For. Good. Measure. Great. Party. Saturday. Return. Car. To. Mama. Bear. Highline. Relax. Rufus. Horchata. Chelsea. Market. Vince. New. Sweatshirt. Softest. Thing. Ever. Most. Beautiful. Day. Ever. Scratch. Best. Week. Scratch. Best. Spring. Break. Senior. Year. New. York. City. WHAA.

How Do You Make It In America?

2010-03-15T22:13:00.000-04:00

"Man, I think the main thing people tend to forget is, in order to stay focused on your mission, you gotta block out all the bullshit. I mean, it's, like, really easy to achieve a dream if you just stay focused and sacrifice a little bit, and remain determined. And you know, the bigger the dream, the harder you might have to grind for it. But everything takes time, you know, you just gotta have extreme patience. That's all."

Surreality

2010-03-07T14:55:00.002-05:00

Let me start by saying that I truly did want to take it easy this weekend. I had every intention of doing so. Early Thursday evening Nelson picked me up after my midterm, which was unpleasant to say the least, and we made the hellish drive up to Fordham University (that's East Bronx for those not up on their five boroughs), where we had dinner with our friend KoKo. Rumblings of a Saint Tony's "Surrealism" party had, indeed, reached my ears earlier in the day, which begged the question: to go or to GO? Which do you think I chose? S-S-surreal weekend begin in five...four...three...two...one...

"Surrealism had a great effect on me because then I realized that the imagery in my mind wasn't insanity. Surrealism to me is reality." - John Lennon

Rufus and I get dressed and head to 1020 for a few beers before making our way to 116th & Riverside Drive. We are early, but all is merry already. My plans for "sobriety" have ended after only 48 hours when I see the bar. "No worries," I tell myself, "you're fine today." Fast-forward approximately two hours. For unknown reasons, I begin drinking Gonzo's punch, a concoction which he should never be allowed to make again. 18 handles, 6 pitchers of beer, and a bunch of other shit: it is a deadly threat. I would like to personally thank him for my ~~slow~~ rapid demise into drunken oblivion. However, the punch was a delicious blend of only the best sorts. I also feel obliged to give a much, much-deserved "thank you" to Tao and Salts McGalts for taking the best possible care of me, and for not allowing me to escape down five flights of stairs at 4 in the morning.

Aaaand it's 130pm on Friday...wake up on Tao's couch, fully clothed, nursing a headache that could tranquilize a horse. It is hard for me to move. Water, water, need lots of water; wish I was the Water Boy. Chill with Tao for a bit, then meet up with Wholly Foods at my place before heading to Community Food & Mimosas for blunch. Blueberry pancakes! Yum, I never really eat pancakes. My cholesterol will no doubt shave ten years off my life...but I don't really mind. Hang out at 9 & 3/4 for a little bit, but it's already time to head downtown to Astor Wine & Spirits (339 Lafayette St.) for an Edward III Absinthe tasting. It is a very successful event - Astor sells out of all its Edward III bottles by the end. Meet and talk to some characters. Close up shop around 8pm, we are starving. DBGB for dinner with Ed and Mark, Mike, and Man, an Asian fashion photographer friend of Ed's. Walk into DBGB at around 845 (it's Friday night and the place is packed), are told we can't be seated until 10, but Mark tells the host we are from Edward III (our bottles are sold in the restaurant), and he says "right this way," table for 5, and sits us next to Michael J. Fox. Baller. Back to the future! No drinks for me tonight, please, but the host gives us a first round of beers on the house. We all order the Yankee burger, topped off with complimentary desserts, one of which was on fire? Stomach full, clear eyes, can't lose - Mark and I are off to Florio's Cigar Lounge (192 Grand St., btw Mott & Mulberry), where I don't smoke cigars but I do drink some drink. Two Maker's on rocks and a Negroni (equal parts Campari, Gin, Sweet Vermouth), I'm feeling good sitting on a most comfortable leather couch. It is an interesting spot with interesting characters - I strike up a conversation with Joe and Moe, two JP Morgan bankers who graduated last year from BU and Cornell, respectively. I knew they were bankers before even talking to them, but we ended up conversing for an hour. I enjoyed this - they were down to earth, very chill dudes. Midnight, get in touch with Tao & Gonzo, and I race up to Hill Country BBQ (26th St., btw 5th & 6th) for Bruges's bday bash. Sidenote: my cab driver was mad cool, we talked about people dying in freak accidents, like that guy in Central Park last week who was crushed by a branch with 100pounds of snow on it. The whole crew is there, well, most of them. Gonzo hands me a whiskey as as I walk downstairs and a really awesome cover band is playing John Denver's "Country Roads" and some Lynyrd Skynyrd "Sweet Home Alabama," among other classics. Whiskey and a Lone Star, and I'm off to the Breslin for drinks with Rufus, Horchata, Wholly Foods, and Tomb Raider. I am wasted. We have a drink or two there and cab home around 2. I am in the front next to the driver and apparently talk to him about "imaginary drugs," so Wholly Foods tells me. It is not a late night, but it has been a looooong time since I've been sober. Bed @ 3.

Wake up yesterday feeling like garbage. Crumpled up, chewed on, ripped-to-shreds garbage. Weather is beautiful, though, so Rufus and I go for an easy run in Riverside. Doesn't feel easy, but I need the exercise, because my heart might explode soon. Catch up with Robin Hood later in the day, grab some grub, and watch The Killers Criterion Collection. Hot bread, zee! Check out that new Mediterranean/Greek place next to the Heights, Vareli, with Sweats. It's actually real chill, they did a good job. Red wine and yogurt, and super hot servants. Aren't you, like, super annoyed that you just read this unnecessarily long blog post about, essentially, nothing? Because how could reading this have had a positive impact on your life?

Look! It's a Magic Mercedes Bus!

2010-02-27T19:22:00.000-05:00

11pm on a Wednesday night - do you know where your magic Mercedes bus is? The night finally introduced my friends to the magic Mercedes van, owned and driven by the cool & collected Sebastien. Have a couple of drinks @ 999 with Cherry Island J. Willy before flying down Columbus in the van (blasting HOT 97) to pick up Wholly Foods and Lara Croft Tomb Raider. First stop: SubMercer. Martinis that weren't really Martinis, Stella Artois, drinking games, blends, mussIC. We chill there until 2am or so, before heading to Le Poisson Rouge? strange stop, indeed, we only stay for twenty minutes before going to Employees Only (510 Hudson St.) for a night cap, Maker's on a bunch of rocks. It's 345 in the morning and we are all very drunk and tired; we hop in the magic bus! and magically, it takes us home. In bed with Ron Weasley by 430. YOU HAVE TO LOVE WEDNESDAYS.
Wiki Wiki Wiki --- FLash forward to yesterday/night, another snow-induced coma of a day in the city. I fucking hate snow, I really do. It annoys me. Head down in the e. village around 430 to do some Edward III deals; after that's done, dinner/mezcal @ Mayahuel - delicious. Paella del Mar. Scallops, Shrimp, Clams, RICE!!! OMG, best dish ever. Deer Hunter comes for a Negra Modelo, and we're off to Asian Pub @ Cooper Sq., first time I've been there in nearly two years. Good thing, too, I usually black out. $4 drinks all the time, drinks that taste like shit but are really strong. Meet up with Deer Hunter's friend, T, and we are yellow-ing to the Ace Hotel. One, maybe two drinks, and we're cabbing to Williamsburg bar, Royal Oak. Drinks there with T and D. Hunter, then it's off to gay bar Metropolitan until 3am. Metropolitan was cool, D. Hunter was my guardian. Long subway ride home (L --> 1); squat while eating leftover pasta in my kitchen at 4am, bed a few minutes later. <3 Wed/Fri combos. Always order the Wed/Fri combo - while it can be expensive, it is delicious!
Before I sign off I'd like to give a special shout-out to my good friend Devin - I hope she doesn't mind me using her real name - and her new blog, Nothing Than Something. It's brand spanking new, only two days out of the womb, and it's fucking dope. Everyone check it out. Music, fashion, movies, quotes -- not to mention the design & colors are legit. <3 you, Devin.

Mean to Me

2010-02-20T16:30:00.001-05:00

Ah, the perks of my new job. Last night I go to "work" on the second floor of the Bowery Hotel for the private event screening & debut of Mean to Me, British supermodel Agyness Deyn's first film directed by multi-media artist Peter McGough, and co-starring Law & Order's Linus Roache. A Manhattan-set 1930s noir art short about a courtesan (Deyn) and her newly fortuneless lover (Roache) as they come face to face with the stark, unanticipated reality of the Great Depression. In 1930s tradition, Edward III, Guerlain Shalimar perfume, and Mikimoto sponsored a lavish party (Deyn was there!), and I got a Guerlain gift bag as payment, which included perfume, the March issue of Elle magazine, eye cream? and a Mikimoto book about pearls (I gave it all to my mom this morning at breakfast, but kept the Pall Malls and Lucky Strikes I also got).

Although I was so sad Agyness Deyn didn't make her way over to the Edward III bar, everyone else that tried it loved it, including George Wayne of Vanity Fair, who claimed he was going to write a piece about it. He took a card. Lots of supamodules and other notable fashionistas - everyone looked killa status. Who was there? Fashion designers Zac Posen & Christian Siriano, actor Michael Pitt (The Dreamers, Finding Forrester, Silk, and The Village), supamodel Erin Wasson (supa hot), French actress/model Anh Duong, Amanda Randolph Hearst, American artist Donald Baechler, Daphne Guinness, and like, many more. Tended to da bar for about two hours, didn't eat dinner, was super hungry, snatched at the yummy hors d'oeuvre whenever I got a chance...drink count before 10pm: one Absinthe, two Manhattans. The film was awesome, especially since I'm in a Film Noir seminar, and it was supa supa dupa classy party. Meet up with Wholly Foods, her friend from home, and Willy J after on 7th & 1st, and we walk to Cabin Down Below (err, second time this week). Proceed, specifically with Willy J, to drink BIG GULP-style. Red Stripes, Negra Modelos, G & T's - we are on mission status. Blends. Good blends all around, CDB is a fucking cool place. Stay for 3 hours? Supa long time. Leave sometime after 2-230, take a cab straight to 9 & 3/4, just me and Big Willy J. We hang out with Ron Weasley and then pshhh, lights out @ 3am. I mean it. LIGHTS OUT. Hot bread, zee!

"Sail Away, Motherfuckers"

2010-02-18T16:32:00.000-05:00

Charity event last night at 385 Broadway loft, sponsored by Guinness and Edward III Absinthe. "Bartended" Absinthe from 7-10 while Mark and Ed did their thing; it's not difficult, but it is a process to make each drink, which sometimes makes people unhappy. But! alas, people love me, so it wasn't a big deal. I had fun, I had a couple of drinks, ~~everyone~~ almost everyone was super cool, and I made, like, $30 in tips. Met two Columbia grads ('07, '09) who are now working for the U.S. Attorney in New York. Little did I know that my night was just beginning...1030, next stop: Anthony Martignetti's Southside (1 Cleveland Pl.) for open bar after-party. Request Talking Heads from hot DJ, she delivers, "Burning Down the House." I am so happy, I dance. Quick shot of Jack and a Porkslap, and we out. Then I finally get to see what Cabin Down Below is all about. One drink, a Red Stripe, a handshake with the owner, and I'm flying up First Ave to meet Rufus, Maple, Melvin, Sweats (all of 9 & 3/4), Gonzo, young BUC, and others for a very special birthday celebration. Happy 22nd, Tao! 1020 for an hour or so, maybe not even, a couple of shots and beers, and me, Tao, young BUC, and Gonzo are cruising to Knets. After Knets, I can't really say much except, good times. Senior year. Three months left. Wed-Sat, and maybe Monday, Tues, Sunday. Blends. Die Antwoord - check them out.

"There Are Some Ugly American Features"

2010-02-15T23:54:00.001-05:00

Thursday. St. Tony's. Valentine's. Day. Semi. Formal. Date. Wholly Foods. Pre. Game. Horchata's. And. Cherry Island's. Blends. Wild. Turkey. Jack. Daniels. Friends. Drunk. Black. Bow Tie. Black. Suit. Dancing. More dancing. 4am. Bed. Wake up. Friday. First. Day. Of. Work. Edward. the. Third. Absinthe. Downtown. DBGB. Hotel. Delmano. Hunter's. Apartment. Prospect Heights. Washington. Commons. Speakeasy. Beer. Blue. Point. Park Slope. Random. Moroccan. Restaurant. Two. Swedish. Girls. Black. Finance. Guy. Wine. Moroccan. Lager. Skirt. Steak. Union. Hall. Whiskey. Soda. Early. Bed. Home. Midnight. Catch. Up. Old. Friend. Saturday. Try. To. Work. In. Butler. Can't. Eyes. Tired. Shutting. Night. Fashion. Show. With. Cocks. Anne. Police. Song. Mike. Vensel. Models. Absinthe. Photographs. Runway. Stylish. Black. East. Village. Dinner. Desnuda. 7th. A. South. American. Wine. Bar. Ceviche. Sweet. Potatoes. Drunk. Bottle. Wine. Rufus. Horchata. Death. &. Co. Gin. No. Flash. Please. Pomme. Frittes. Four. Sauces. Cab. Driver. Who. Is. On. Crack. Cocaine. Funny. Drive. Home. We. Are. Wasted. What. A. Weekend. Sunday. Night. Valentine's. Day. Dinner. At. Wholly. Foods. Apt. Delicious. Clueless. She's All That. Star Trek. Lots. Of. Movies. Bulleit. Bourbon. Wine. Pudding. Yum. 1020. Sweats. Rufus. Drunk. Again. Bed. End. Of. Weekend. Eyes. Hands. Too. Tired. Why. I. Wrote. Like. This.

999

2010-02-09T22:22:00.002-05:00

Wake up late Saturday morning. Trudge to the library and attempt to read a few articles. I manage to get through two. I promised myself tonight would be low-key, haha! Good one. Another broken promise.EoH, Robin Hood, and Elle come over around 5pm to hang out. We "hang" for thirty minutes, then we out. Elle has to study, but the three musketeers are on their way to Crack Deli for Spicy Specials; we eat them in a cab on our way to the ~~Guggenheim~~ Met...

The Met is awesome when you're floating above the clouds. Check out some of more "modernish" galleries until about 730, then yellow hop to the new Whole Foods (97th & Columbus). I get bacon, turkey, eggs, cheese (the essentials), a Blue Point 12-pack, and organic CHOCOLATE MILK (a big container!). Get back to 9 & 3/4 at 830-9 and who is there to surprise me!? Maple's brother Alvin and Rosta! I literally haven't seen these guys in months. It is a merry occasion. Fuck me, I'm going out tonight. A big crew gathers at our place (only fucking Melvin is absent): Gonzo, Rufus, Maple, Alvin, Rosta, Sweats, Jenka, and others. Drink at the suite until 1030, then head to 999 (p.s. I think I'm going to start bartending there soon, keep looking out). From the day I was born I have never seen this bar so crowded. Saturday night blends! Lots of them. It is a shitshow - we start one big tab and order pitcher after pitcher of Bass and Peak Orgasmic.

Here are a few of the things I remember from Saturday night:

1. Nate

2. Blends

3. Rosta getting Crosta

4. Broken glass

5. Gonzo's penis (talk of it)

6. Sophomores

7. Some rando drooling on himself at the bar

8. The best playlist of any bar I've ever been to

After a Ron Weasley session back at 9 & 3/4, I am beat, it is 4am and I have to wake up at 830 to go to LI for my uncle's 50th bday brunch. This weekend was a blend.

Party & Bullshit

2010-02-08T16:52:00.060-05:00

"In my room at home I secretly practiced the Charleston, in case I was ever in a situation where I'd be asked to do it. I'd caught on that among the more glamorous crowd at Barnard and Columbia, it was very much the thing to emulate the customs of the Roaring Twenties. In addition to the revival of the Charleston, this involved a lot of flamboyant drinking and the throwing of wild and lavish parties. The previous spring, thirty students had sold pints of blood to finance a May Wine Festival at the swanky Essex House -- on whose neon sign that night the E and the first s had been totally blacked out, according to later legend. Blood and wine -- there was something about the decadent absurdity of that party that captured my imagination. Never had I imagined that pleasure could be pursued with such seriousness." - Joyce Johnson, Minor Characters
Pleasure this weekend was pursued with such seriousness, even the serious kids were like, "THIS is serious." Be kind, please rewind, to Friday night, when Rufus, myself, Jenka, and Maple (welcome back to the blog, Maple!) ventured into the loft heaven that is Chelsea to bartend a private jazz party hosted by Music For Tomorrow, featuring the Sugartone Brass Brand, @ 136 10th Ave (btw 18th & 19th St.). The band was on fire and, of the nearly 150 people there, not one was unenthusiastic about consuming as many drinks as possible. I might add that everyone was beautiful, the loft was insane (some Australian guy's), and oh, we bartended the shit out of the shit. I'm not going to lie -- people loved us. People wanted our drinks, they wanted to drink the drinks that we made, and, with good reason, they hoped to get wasted from our drinks.
[[Right now I want to give a shout-out to Holly and Lara, whose WBAR radio show, Tender Muttons, is currently streaming live (and every Monday, 6-8pm); they are blasting Solange, Dirty Projectors, Hot Chip, and WHAAA, Lil' Wayne - enjoy Riker's, sad to see you go, but know you'll be back. Also, I just ran with Rufus for about thirty minutes, outside, and my heart almost exploded; I am dying, out of shape, need to run more. Might not be able to walk tomorrow.]]
Anyway, back to Friday night: Jenka and I, in the course of making drinks for others, may have also sampled the Bootlegger Vodka which we were, incidentally, promoting. The exclusive alcohol of the MFT party, Bootlegger is distilled six times in upstate NY and also gets people fucked (and fucked up). Vodka Tonics, Vodka Sodas, Vodka punch -- anything Vodka, you name it. Shots, wine, beer, and Vodka. Blends. By 9pm, we are drunk (but so is EVERYONE else). At around 10 o'clock, our station (we were split into two) is completely out of alcohol and ice. That was fast. So I guess we'll go see how Rufus and Maple are doing. In the course of this action, I somehow end up talking to a girl who attends NU school -- she is rolling a joint on the counter. WHAT IS GOING ON AT THIS PARTY?! Rufus looks up a few minutes later and I have extended my services to that of the role of DJ, and grinding with some hot girl who is one drink away from CTRL + ALT + DLTING (why she is dancing with me). The blasphemous, but oh so good Miley/Notorious mash-up is my song of choice to get people rowdy: SUCCESS! 11pm, we gotz our monies and are out da mofuckin' door --> easily $150/each, CASH MONEY HOES. Easiest monies I ever made. We are fucking jacked. Cab uptown to Village Pourhouse; round of beers, round of Jim Beam shots, BLENDS, I tell the bartender I love her, get her to do a shot with us, and somehow we get her # and e-mail? I like where the night is headed, if it's walkin' my way. Not really sure what happened next, but we are back to 9 & 3/4 and some friends join us for some treats at Hogwarts International Playhouse. Bed by 4.
Saturday night recap to follow tomorrow...

Sex Ed Fail

2010-02-05T12:35:00.000-05:00

Resolved Question: Can your baby get pregnant if you have sex while pregnant? like if you are pregnant with a baby girl, and you have sex while you are pregnant, can the sperm go up in there and impregnate the baby?

Best Answer - Chosen by Voters: The baby CAN get pregnant only if it's a female. If you suspect that your baby is pregnant, try not to have sex again. You run the risk of getting your baby's baby pregnant, and that can lead to complications like an infinite loop.

classic.

Dear Fucking Nails, I Hate You

2010-02-02T22:30:00.000-05:00

Not those nails, the other ones. I just spent twenty minutes trying to nail with a hammer my beloved Dazed and Confused poster, which, last semester, used to hang in the suite, but this semester has somehow found a new living situation among a pile of clothes behind by door. I really really tried, but fuck you nails! you are impossible, you are weak - you cannot withstand the blow of my hammer. Hammer: 1. Nails: 0.

Still kind of sick, whatever. "When nothing else works, blog" - words to live by.. A great mentor of mine once uttered those beautiful, mottofic words before he was run over by an eighteen-wheeler. Hah, just kidding! I'd rather not to do my stat homework; instead, I'll write about absofuckinglutely nothing. THEY really shouldn't let average citizens like myself have access to blog for free. I should be charged money to write this crap, on da realz, yo. On a lighter note, Happy Groundhog Day! One of my favorite movies of ALL-TIME. Melvin and Rufus just left for Dead Poet to enjoy some beers, but I have work to do/early class/still not feeling well. Still rare of me not to join them. I yearn for an alcoholic beverage (I also yearn to go back to Dutch Kills - who doesn't like it when bartenders tell you what the fuck is up?). Busy day planned for tomorrow + I hope to make it out at nighttime.

Wow, my life is boring! I should get a job or something, for next year.

"Feet on the ground, head in the sky." <-- Barely.

Happy Monday, Happy February

2010-02-01T18:08:00.001-05:00

Err, today? I hate being sick, which I am, kinda. When I constantly have snot and boogers and ickiess oozzing from my nostrils, I become severely self-conscious and fall into a quasi-category of mental hibernation. I shut off from the world. This morning Melvin (welcome back to the blog, Mel!) and I attended our 11am Political Science seminar, the first class we've had together in four years --> crazy. It's an interesting class, but the last one I'm going to today. I need to rest up and not be sick anymore + I needed to run some errands this afternoon. Followed class up with lunch at Nussbaum, then Melvin jetted downtown to his place of work, while I headed home to 9 & 3/4 to my bed. The rest of my night will consist of more bed, and reading/writing/TV/soup. I just now learned of a mysterious new Columbia blog, The Red Zone, written by a senior at Barnard or Columbia, who works in Avery - I'm pretty sure I know her, but there's an equally good chance I don't. One can only wish. I hope she continues to write as I will be looking for updates. She is a witty writer, and the words she produces are far more coherent and interesting than the ones you are reading here.
Less than four months till graduation: not yet sure how I feel. I no longer desire to work - in fact I despise the thought of it - however, once the bubble bursts, I fear the party may be over. I bought a ticket to see Hot Chip today, on April 23, @ Terminal 5. Saw them there two years ago and it was a wild show. Hopefully Murakunas will buy a ticket, too, so that we can replicate the legendary sophomore year shitshow. Anyway, I hope I get better soon so that I can blog about something far more interesting later in the week, more interesting than a monDAY.

Don't Push Me Cause I'm Close to the Edge

2010-01-29T16:16:00.002-05:00

Wake up at 3pm yesterday.Previous night is P-Bear's 23rd, which we celebrate at Brother Jimmy's on the UES. Party all night, bed at 7. So I wake up at 3pm yesterday afternoon and make myself some eggs (scrambled) and bacon; it seems like all I am eating these days are bacon and eggs, with some dat cheese, too.
Head downtown at around 630 to El Cantinero (University Pl., btw 11th & 12th) to meet up with some friends from NYU - $4 everything/anything, happy hour all night. Two beers and I'm in a cab to the East Village, to an opening/gathering/drinking for Salon 13, a legit new beauty salon started by Greenhouse bartender Seamus Regan. A wide range of awesome people, old and young, drink Maker's Mark and white wine, and cram into the cozy salon-converted-bar for an hour or two. Craig's got the Mercedes van parked outside, and it is in the van that people gather to smoke cigarettes and converse, all the while simply trying to escape the weather's icy chill. The open bar continues across the street at Luca Lounge (Ave B, btw 13th & 14th). Vanessa (a Perrier promoter) and I meet Kate, a hot/nerdy lesbian bartender who we take pictures with. At the bar a piece of candle wax actually falls into my Maker's Mark. I get a new one. I am drunk already, and it's only 10pm. Stay for a minute, then we're off to 230 Fifth (rooftop bar/penthouse lounge) on 27th & 5th. Thought Lady Gaga was going to be there, but Melle Mel (main songwriter for Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five) instead. Whatever! He is A Granddaddy of hip-hop --> see 1982 The Message. Horchata, Rufus, Lisa Leslie, and Cherry Island meet us there, literally as we pull up. Check ID's and we elevate city to the 20th fl. Sick views of the Met Life building and Empire State city, total unobstruction. Leave not too late, around 130, I am wasted. It's been a long 48hrs. Time to detox/sleep/eat/recover. Blends.

"Do not what I would do unless I tell you to"

2010-01-27T15:38:00.000-05:00

I know people are reading 9 & 3/4 on the regz. B l o g g e r tells me these things. I just don't know who, but I know you're out there. Can anyone tell me who this woman (above) is? Hint: Her motto is the title of this entry. I ~~kind of~~ would like to encourage people to start commenting on the blog - I'm pretty sure you can do it anonymously. Tell me what you think, or give me ideas on what to write about. I've been doing a lot of late-night recaps, which I will continue to do, but I'd like to due sum uther tings. Ciao.

Hunter S

2010-01-25T01:58:00.000-05:00

"He talked about luck and fate and numbers coming up, yet he never ventured a nickel at the casinos because he knew the house had all the percentages. And beneath his pessimism, his bleak conviction that all the machinery was rigged against him, at the bottom of his soul was a faith that he was going to outwit it, that by carefully watching the signs he was going to know when to dodge and be spared. It was fatalism with a loophole, and all you had to do to make it work was never miss a sign. Survival by coordination, as it were. The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, but to those who can see it coming and jump aside. Like a frog evading a shillelagh in a midnight marsh." [Rum Diary]

Back to School [Final Countdown Edition]

2010-01-20T17:36:00.001-05:00

Back to school yesterday, for the final time, the last semester. However, we need not get reflectional - YET. To usher in the new year, 2010, and catch up with friends, much drinking has been done these past few nights. First night back (Sunday) - 1020 for-four hours or so. Salts McGalts, Robin Hood, EoH, Rufus, Horchata, my cousin, Cherry Island; everyBODY was out.
Monday was special. Saw Book of Eli with Sweats, it was pretty good. Classic Denzel. Happy hour blends & darts at 1020 with Dick. Dinner at his girl's place, then THE DUCK (111th & 2nd). Quack Quack! We are a group of seven and walk there around 830. Play some more darts and choose our jams from da jukebox: Janis Joplin, Jonny Cash, CCR - what's not to love? I drink a pitcher's worth of Patriot Ale, two shots of Wild Turkey BGOOKK!, two shots of Cuervo, and a Kamikaze. 1020 after to meet up with Gonzo and Sweats, then Knets for cheese pizza.
Welcome back.

Das Racist

2010-01-13T23:14:00.001-05:00

Rainbow in the Dark

Las Vey Has Wisdom, Part II

2010-01-12T17:22:00.000-05:00

Arrive in Vegas around 5pm last Monday. Exciting blends are in the air. In our bags, too. Haaa! JK. Anyway, park da car and call Hunt City to find our where our room in Caesar's is. 6611-6613. It's a big fucking suite. Epic. My favorite part of the suite is this perfectly rounded round table with six chairs (one for each person on the trip), where we can play drinking games or just drink. Fantastic!

Start drinking way too early and by dinner, we're sufficiently drunk. Oh, I forgot to mention that I lose $200 in less than hour during my first go-round at BlackJack. This did not sit well with mwah, and I became determined to win mah money back. By 1am, we are all dead; we call it a night because we know there are big times ahead.

Wake up Tuesday, start to win maaah money back at the BJ tables. Early afternoon delight at Rhumbar of the Mirage, then make my way to a $70 buy-in poker tournament at Caesar's. Bye-bye, I'm out in an hour-and-a-half. Not ready for the big boyz yet. Hoooold up, though, because I'm about to pay for my tourney losses by winning at the BJ tables. See Bette Midler show @ 730, go upstairs, get changed, play epic game of Kings, then we make our way downstairs where I win $100 at the BJ tables before we go to Pure. VIPs, holla. --> King's at "the" table (Bette Midler cards). The club is huge, people are crazy, woo Vegas. Get really, really drunk and have late-night $21 room service hamburguesas delivered up at 330 in the morning, which I don't remember eating at all.

So drunk that Hunt City and I wake up at 8am, four hours after we "went to sleep." Gambling at 9am is interesting. Stopped by the Wynn hotel and casino --> baller, can't even smoke inside. And any hotel/casino with an Alexander McQueen shop deserves props. By noon, after losing $50 during the morning, Nils, Kalle, and Goldman Sachs and I decide to indulge in a little brunchfest buffet. It's mediocre, but a) I don't even know where we ate, and b) I wasn't very hungry. Oh well. Fast forward --> later in the day, I go downstairs to play some more BJ, but just enough to pay for my portion of the room service bill from the night before. About an hour later I proceed to lose $120 in ten minutes with Rufus. I am disgruntled and hungry, and more than anything, sad. Everyone goes to an all-you-can-eat Sushi buffet, except me because I spoiled my appetite at Subway and am feeling sorry for myself. I nap for a little, then make the bold decision to go downstairs to the $25 minimum BJ tables and win my money back. I win $116 and decide it's time to cash-out and peace. I am ecstatic that it was not a losing day (on the whole). Next up, on my way over to see the New York New York, I stop to see the Bellagio fountain show: they blast Celine Dion and it is amazing! Get to the New York New York, and while I wait, I order a 48oz strawberry daquiri in a yardstick and proceed to get drunk. We all see the burlesque circq-du-soleil, Zumanity, at 1030, and it's pretty awesome. BOOBIES! Aside from some more gambling and drinking, it's not a late night. We have to rest for the drive home. Well, Horchata and Rufus do. I get to ride backseat round-trip. After brunch at Caesar's, we're off! Back to LA/San Diego.

First trip to Vegas, conclusions: 1) it's amazing, like fairy-land, 2) it's not a real place, and 3) three-night max

Las Vey Has Widsom, Part I

2010-01-11T21:37:00.000-05:00

Back from that other coast, just in time to see maaah J-E-T-S beat Cinci for the second straight week to earn a trip to the divisional playoff game @ San Diego next Sunday. HI-YO! Got my wisdom teeth out this morning (all four of them), and this is how it went down: I wake up at 1030 to my dad's gentle voice, who tells me I need to be at the oral surgeon's office an hour later, whooopie! Oh, and can't eat breakfast. <3 Monday's. So I can't feel the bottom half of my face, I'm drugged up as hell, and I see this as a timely opportunity to tell ALL my fans (really just the five people who read this) about California and Vegas.
Get to Rufus's in Carlsbad (San Diego) last Tuesday. Some of this has already been mentioned in the previous post, but I was so high (on life) when I wrote it, I thought it deserved a few more details here and there. Flight out sucks, but the thought of his beautiful face greeting me at the airport is what keeps me going. That night we go to the Stone Brewery in Escondido or Encinitas (I can't remember); we don't manage to get on a tour, but we settle for dinner and beer outside. Romantic. A little later, feeling buzzed, Rufus tells me he's never been to the bar Hensley's, owned by a member of the Flogging Molly's, and which is literally a half-mile from his house. We go. It's a strange vibe, but one we are feeling. We play darts and I almost take his ass down by racking up huge sums of blends, which is unusual, but he mounts the unlikeliest of comebacks, and claims glory. Bar patrons look at us as if we are aliens for playing darts (there are six boards, fuck you people). We maybe have three beers, then sit down near a table of cougars. It is approximately 10pm, and Rufus goes to the bathroom while I sit at the table and check my bberry for ESPN updates. A 300lb bouncer named Jesus (HAY-ZEUS) comes over to me and asks me to step outside. HE tells ME that I was sleeping, and consequently must leave the bar. WHAT A FUCKING IDIOT! I was just checking scores on my phone, bro. When Rufus learns what has happened, he joins us outside and I think he is going to lay a punch on our grande Mexican Mambo Jambo over here, his face being two inches away from the bouncer's. Rufus tells him it is last night working at Hensley's, then proceeds to re-enter the bar and tell the bartender he is sorry, but he will not be paying for his drinks, and, with rage, crushes his own credit card like the Incredible Hulk. Bye-bye Hensley's. I'm in California less than twelve hours and we are ejected from a bar. Count it!

Fast forward a couple of days to New Year's Eve in LA, a la casa de Horchata. Una casa muy bonita. It is a nice party. Her parents were gracious enough to leave us the house to ourselves while they checked in to a hotel for the evening. I smell trouble. Alas, everyone was way too well behaved. I guess we are twenty-one and twenty-two-year olds, but we still should have broken more stuff (just kidding!). There were many French kids, acting quite strange in the early hours of the evening. We thought a) they are just French, b) they are lame, or c) both. HOWEVER! it was discovered they had all eaten chocolate mushrooms, and found Horchata's Christmas tree to be a source of great entertainment throughout the night. Give respect where respect is due. It was a funny night - we played one of the greatest games of King's ever. Perhaps a picture or two will one day surface. After another night in LA, it was back to San Diego to relax and recover before our five-hour drive to Las Vegas Monday morning...

A preview of the second installment of this entry, in which Vegas will be delved into, in length:

2010

2010-01-02T02:35:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year from LA! 2010-2019 is going to be an awesome time, even better than 2000-2009 (in 2001, I had my Bar Mitzvah and became the shit in the Jewish community; in 2002, I graduated from junior high school; in 2005, I got my license; in 2006, I graduated from high school and enrolled at Columbia; in 2008, I did an onslaught of drugs for the first time [just kidding!]; and in 2009, I fell on a glass table during spring break in Quebec City while I was blackout drunk, and needed eight stitches to mend the blend).
Horchata had a party at her house last night: there were French people on chocolate mushrooms; champagne and Budweiser flowed from the heavens, music was played via apple TV; all this and we were asleep by three in da morning!
Rewind be kind to three days ago, when I arrived in San Diego to live with Rufus for 10 days. Rufus and his brother, Grape Swish, and their parents. Blends. Later in the day we tried to go on a tour at Stone Brewery, but had to settle for dinner and an assortment of serious beer blends. Later that night, Rufus and I were thrown out of Hensley's, a bar not more than one half-mile from his house, because I looked like I was "sleeping" - I was really just checking ESPN scores on my blackberry. What happened next: Rufus trying to fight JESUS, the 300lb retarded bouncer. Rufus was upset by our illegitimate child that was our treatment. Grape Swish drove us to some more bars, got some more drunk, and ended the night with my all-time favorite California food, Sourdough Jacks and tacos from Jack-in-the-Box!
Next day Rufus, Grape Swish, and I went to the Wild Animal Park --> dope.
Yesterday was New Year's at Horchata's, and, well, it was a shitshow. HI-YO! whoop whoop. Finished the night with dat White Rhino...happy new year!

4 Privet Drive

2009-12-26T13:14:00.000-05:00

Have been home at 4 Privet Drive for three days now, and oh, how joyous. No more magic trains or large campuses to navigate, only how to get from my bed to the TV, from the TV to the bathroom, and from the bathroom to my car (incidentally, I suck at driving now). Wednesday night, went to Dublin House for what, in retrospect, can be seen as a Holmdel High School reunion. Some faces I had not seen since hs graduation, crazy. Have done some running, watched Inglourious Basterds and The Hangover, and saw Sherlock Holmes yesterday, which was legit. Nothing too exciting otherwise, shipping off to dat other coast on Tuesday, for 10 days of...SD/LA/VEGAS...what's up?

done (and done)

2009-12-23T17:58:00.000-05:00

Just left 9 & 3/4 for winter break. Not going to lie, so happy to be home and out of the city (though I'm going to miss Melvin, Maple, and Sweats more and more each day I don't see their beautiful shining faces; I will see Rufus in a week in San Diago). Finals are done, everything is done. Last night I got to hang with Robin Hood, Maple, Sweats, Gonzo and his girl, A-Krat, and P-Bear. At Heights and 1020, we did some drinking. Merry Christmas to all, see ya on the other coast!

Fanfarlo!

2009-12-21T00:32:00.000-05:00

A couple of things: Haven't blogged in a while, but that doesn't mean I haven't been doing anything! Wednesday night was my mom's Christmas party at the Grand Hyatt above Grand Central Terminal. Super nice hotel, Gonzo and I worked the "door" for the first two hours of the four-and-a-half hour open bar fiesta, then we took advantage. Before the party started, we also met a soon-to-be Real Housewife of New York, who has been a friend of my mom's for many years. Not telling who! Dance,dance, dance. P-Bear came to drink and dance a little, too, then we had "a" night.
I just walked by this homeless guy who is always sleeping outside, above that heater on 114th & Broadway. I went home and, since the beginning of school, I've been putting leftover change in a red solo cup; I wrote "Merry Christmas" on it and walked back outside and gave it to him. It was just really cold and wet and I felt like it was the right thing to do. He said, "God bless you," and I definitely am glad that I did what I did. It's finals, so shit sucks. 2 more to go, lot of loose ends/errands to tie up/run, but mainly, I just want to go home. Am tired of new york right now. It was worn me down this semester. Friday night I saw Freelance Whales and Fanfarlo at Webster Hall with Melvin and his friend from home. It was an amazing show -- Fanfarlo is a unique band that employs a shit ton of instruments and vocals. Freelance Whales was dope, too.
Nelson was in town, so we cabbed it up to Columbia and I showed him around to some parties. 999, Village Pourhouse, EC, 1020, an apartment on 123rd & Amsterdam -- he saw a lot. Blends. Didn't have fun waking up to study yesterday, but I'm glad we got to chill.
I've decided this will my second-to-last post of the year, and of THE DECADE. I had to cram a lot of shit into this one, but expect a post from San Diego or Los Angeles before New Year's.
I shall leave you with a little food, for a little thought:
Are you someone who, when you're with a friend, and you run into another friend, and both of your friends don't know each other -- are you someone who INTRODUCES or someone who DOES NOT? It really is a telling trait about someone. If you introduce your friend to your friend immediately, you are an introducer, and a gentleman or a lady If you are someone who just stands there playing with his or her thing, making things awkward for the friends you haven't introduced, then shame on you! you are not a good person. Shout out to Lisa Leslie!

One Forty Seven [Point] Five

2009-12-12T18:27:00.000-05:00

Get to 999 at 930, plug in my pod, have a beer. Horchata, Robin Hood, and EoH meet me a little while later for shots of Jamieson, Ketel One, and beers. Rufus meets us an hour later. Craig's DJing is sick -- every song that plays is what I want to hear. Craig's brother drives me and Craig downtown in his beamer, where unsuccessfully we try to hook up with Craig's nephew outside a club on 21st. Wait five minutes, then get dropped off at subMercer (147 1/2 Mercer St.), a cool spot two stories below the Mercer Hotel in Soho (even a story below Mercer Kitchen). Get there around one...
Meet G, the hostess, who leads us to the freight elevator -- then we are on our own. Get out, head down the oh-so-complicated labyrinth (it's really not difficult at all) to the red door, enter, walk through the wine cellar vestibule, go through another door and HI-YO! we're inside. Red brick walls, low ceilings, pumping DJs, it's actually a small, cozy space. Blends. G buys us a couple of rounds (super cool of her, she is awesome), meet some characters, dance a little, and we're out by 245. Just want to say that the bartender's dreads were unreal --> amazing. Decadence and Decay all around....back uptown to 1020 for a bit. See Salts McGalts, sit at the bar and order four waters (for myself). Back to 9 & 3/4 around 4am, but get an unexpected late-night text from Gonzo! meet up and the night continues for a while longer. Bed around 6. Gonzo and I have our semesterly sleep together...blends. Night.

Hans Breder: INMIXING

2009-12-10T14:04:00.000-05:00

Head down to the lower east side with Craig and Coltrane around 730, to the White Box (329 Broome St.), for an opening reception to see a comprehensive survey of early to recent media works by the seminal pioneer of Intermedia art, Hans Breder. Old guy born in Germany, his work has been featured in three Whitney Biennials (1987, 1989, 1991). The title of the show references the Lacanian term of "inmixing," described by Herman Rapaport as the "extradimensionality that is made possible by introducing a lack, break, knot, or fold that is the mark of the subject: its signifer." The shit is crazy, see picture above. Have some wine, mingle for a little, meet the old bastard, and we is out!

Meet Rashid, an old friend of Craig's, who is an awesome French guy who owns a building (where he has lived for over twenty years) in the East Village. He meets us at the opening and we walk over to Spur Tree (Orchard, btw Broome & Grand), a lounge Craig owned a long time ago, around the time I was, like, three years old. Rashid buys for us four bottles of Pinot Noir, and I'm sufficiently drunk by the time we leave. Also meet Craig's beautiful, beautiful friend, Minos -- she is American! but looks Swedish-German. She also looks twenty-seven (but she's not). Super cool peoples. Leave Spur Tree around 1030, walk Rashid half-way home, and the four of us yellow-hop up to 999. See my new girlfriend, Salty Salt McGalts, with another guy! but it's cool, I trust her. I will see her again later. Couple of beers, J, then out. Meet up with my GF at Campo for a drink -- at this point I don't know how I'm still alive -- then I go home and, after a delicious mona lisa and digusting cheese fries from HamDel, I'm in bed by 2. I have a headache and feel like shit today.

Even the Brilliant...

2009-12-07T11:51:00.000-05:00

At twenty-six, Leo Tolstoy, one of the most renowned writers of 19th century Russia (and the world) wrote scathingly,

"I am ugly, awkward, untidy and socially uncouth. I am irritable and tiresome to others; immodest, intolerant and shy as a child. In other words, a boor...I am excessive, vacillating, unstable, stupidly vain and aggressive, like all weaklings. I am not courageous. I am so lazy that idleness has become an ineradicable habit with me. Yet there is one thing I love more than virtue: fame. I am so ambitious, and this craving in me has had so little satisfaction, that if I had to choose between fame and virtue, I am afraid I would very often opt for the former."

Birthday Sex

2009-12-07T02:31:00.000-05:00

You say you want passion
I think you found it
Get ready for action
Don't be astounded
We switchin' positions
You feel surrounded
Just tell me where you want
your gift, BOY

HAPPY 22nd, RUFUS!

Biz Markie

2009-12-06T00:49:00.000-05:00

Have you ever met a girl that you tried to date
But a year to make love she wanted you to wait
Let me tell ya a story of my situation
I was talkin' to this girl from the U.S. nation
The way that I met her was on tour at a concert
She had long hair and a short miniskirt
I just got onstage drippin', pourin' with sweat
I was walkin' through the crowd and guess who I met
I whispered in her ear, "Come to the picture booth
So I can ask you some questions to see if your hundred proof"
I asked her her name, she said blah-blah-blah
She had 9/10 pants and a very big bra
I took a couple of flicks and she was enthused
I said, "How do you like the show?"
she said, "I was very amused"
I started throwin' bass, she started throwin' back mid-range
But when I sprung the question, she acted kind of strange
Then when I asked, "Do ya have a man?" she tried to pretend
She said, "No I don't, I only have a friend"
Come on, I'm not even goin' for it
This is what I'm goin' sing

You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend
And you say he's just a friend, oh baby
You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend
But you say he's just a friend, oh baby
You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend
But you say he's just a friend

So I took blah-blah's word for it at this time
I thought just havin' a friend couldn't be no crime
'Cause I have friends and that's a fact
Like Agnes, Agatha, Germaine, and Jacq
Forget about that, let's go into the story
About a girl named blah-blah-blah that adored me
So we started talkin', getttin' familiar
Spendin' a lot of time so we can build a
A relationship or some understanding
How it's gonna be in the future we was plannin'
Everything sounded so dandy and sweet
I had no idea I was in for a treat
After this was established, everything was cool
The tour was over and she went back to school
I called every day to see how she was doin'
Everytime that I called her it seemed somethin' was brewin'
I called her room, a guy picked up, and then I called again
I said, "Yo, who was that?" "Oh, he's just a friend"
Don't gimme that, don't even gimme that
Jus' bust this

You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend
And you say he's just a friend, oh baby
You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend
But you say he's just a friend, oh baby
You, you got what I need but you say he's just a friend
But you say he's just a friend

So I came to her college on a surprise visit
To see my girl that was so exquisite
It was a school day, I knew she was there
The first semester of the school year
I went to a gate to ask where was her dorm
This guy made me fill out a visitor's form
He told me where it was and I as on my way
To see my baby doll, I was happy to say
I arrrived in front of the dormitory
Yo, could you tell me where is door three?
They showed me where it was for the moment
I didn't know I was in for such an event
So I came to her room and opened the door
Oh, snap! Guess what I saw?
A fella tongue-kissin' my girl in the mouth,
I was so in shock my heart went down south
So please listen to the message that I send
Don't ever talk to a girl who says she just has a friend

Allen Ginsberg, Tribute to the Wise

2009-12-01T03:43:00.000-05:00

Lately, as I did this past summer in Portland, I've been combing through Allen Ginsberg's The Book of Martyrdom and Artifice. On May 14, 1943, Allen Ginsberg was accepted at Columbia College in New York City. Sixty-six years later, his erratic and accomplished Columbia career still resonates with, teaches, and impresses me. Nearly three-hundred pages of The Book of Martyrdom and Artifice, a work compiled of poems and journal entries from the earlier part of his life (1937-1952), is dedicated to his time spent at Columbia College. Who he met, what he did, classes he skipped, professors he adored and respected - the journal as a form of writing, in some ways, accurately captures what it meant to be a "Beat": Spontaneity, dreams, insanity, rhythm, flow, restlessness, desire.
I guess it was inevitable that this blog would venture out towards other subject matter; after all, you can't go out every night, and even if you did, it can't be that fun for others to read about the nights I spend drinking instead of working. I'm feeling a bit under the weather after my trip. That, combined with the time change, has left me wide awake at 330 in the morning. Just tonight I came across a journal entry of Allen Ginsberg's from January 4, 1952:
"Subject for a novel--the history of mistakes and successes of a young literary (again) type, in securing his position in the world--young man without ambition or goal, only theoretical. Is success theoretical or accidental?"
As I sit at my desk and ponder this question, I wonder: what will my position be in the world? At this time next year, where will I be? what will I be doing? what, what, what? where, where, where? and with who? I do not wish to weigh myself down with existential or philosophical concerns about the future, no more than I wish to eat a pickle. I hate pickles. I realize that, being a (almost second semester) senior in college, it may be time to begin thinking not about what I'm going to do next year, but rather, first, what I want to do. It's scary to think that I still don't know. A 9-5 job seems unlikely, but who knows?
I sit here and wonder. I think, "Am I that young man with only theoretical ambition or goal?" Quite possibly. Quite possibly much of my generation is. We all have hopes and dreams, grandiose ideas and romantic notions about the future, but what will we do about it? How will we get from point A to point B? Is success really based on accidents, "the right place at the right time, the who ya know and who ya don't" kinda deal.
Is success theoretical or accidental?

Thanksgiving

2009-11-30T15:24:00.000-05:00

So this year was not the best Thanksgiving. My grandmother, Tauba A. Lampell, passed away this past Wednesday, early in the morning, at the age of 88. From Poland she arrived in Mexio City at the age of five, and lived there for more than half her life, before moving to La Jolla with my grandfather. She spoke five languages (Yiddish, Polish, Spanish, French, and English), devoured the arts with an insatiable appetite, was kind and self-less, and loved her children, grand-children, family and friends with the utmost tenderness and care. Although the past few years had not been so kind to her, and while the some 3000 miles between New York and San Diego left our relationship disconnected in some ways, I will miss her. Now that both of my grandparents on the West coast have passed, it is the end of a dynasty; my grandmother was the glue for our family, from New Jersey to California, Mexico City to South America (now Bangladesh).
I don't want to ramble on or get sappy, but I just wanted to say a few things. And while visiting the beautiful San Diego coast was not under the best circumstances, I got to see a lot of my family that I haven't seen in years, and for this I am thankful. My cousins from Mexico, cousins from San Diego, my aunt, my uncle from Bangladesh - people who knew my grandmother who came from all over the world to pay their respects, a testament to her character.
This Thanksgiving, I am truly thankful for my family and my friends.
R.I.P.

"I roll out of bed, I want to look good. I go to the deli, I want to look good."

2009-11-25T05:43:00.000-05:00

I guess it's hard to blog so frequently when every night leaves you feeling like death every (next) day. When can one find the time? Usually Sunday nights, but we'll get to why that did not happen. I will try to recap Thursday/Friday/Saturday/Sunday nights in this post, but the likeliness of capturing all that I want to is slim.
Thursday night: Thanksgiving Jay dinner with the entire 9 & 3/4 blend. Yum. After: "You are an embarrassment to the game of pool and should be glad I even let you play at my table." Dazed and Confused/Fast Times At Ridgemont High Saint Tony's-themed party. I wear a tie-dye tee underneath jean Carhartt overalls, and white chucks. Classic-style. Sweats and Reggie, Maple and I, it is a merry evening. Gonzo's brother is in town, and we all hang out before heading to the party. Get there around 11, are one of the first ones, and go straight to the bar. The night is a blend - I really mean that. P-Bear is there, young BUC, and Gonzo of course. Party all night - till 930 in the morning. Craig, the owner of A Cafe and the new La Negrita, now called 999 (109th & Columbus), stops by during the wee hours of 4-7 and parties with us; it's good to see him after nine months - he's been running a new restaurant, BarBu, in South Beach. I sleep in Gonzo's bed till 3pm, head home, print out a paper, and drop it off in Kent before collasping on some beautiful grass. Rest up, because Friday night is, well, Friday night.
Friday night: Haven't eaten in more than twenty-four hours, so I stop by Crack Deli for a Spicy Special at 930 en route to 999's soft-opening. Craig and Coltrane are still setting up, but there are a few people already there. I sit down at the far end of the bar and eat my SS. It gets more and more crowded, and I order more and more drinks (on the house, of course). Hook up with some Ithaca grads, take some shots, pretend I'm the bouncer, card some underage students, I'm drunk and 999 is fun. Everyone go! Have to wake up early morning Saturday to see Rufus's last XC blend as a Columbia senior, so I call it a night at 3am.
Saturday: Happy 22nd bday, Maple! Wake up at 915 and head up to VCP in the Bronx to see Rufus run, wooo! 2pm: me, Rufus, Sweats, Maple, and Reggie go downtown to Pop-Up Flea (201 Mulberry St.), a sample sale in Soho. Bouce around, find a million things I want to buy, but don't get anything. 4pm, Rufus is going to see Dirty Projectors with Horchata, the rest of us make our way to Cafe Select (212 Lafayette St.) for some afternoon concoctions. Everyone is drunk but me, probably because they each had EARLY-afternoon delight blends before we left home. From Cafe Select our next stop is L'ASSO (Mott & Kenmare Sts.) for dinner --> pizza and beer leave us deliciously full; Maple's brother Alvin helps us kill our growler, roar. We obviously then go to Ludlow St, our home away from home of sorts, but not our Home Sweet Home, which we visited later. In succession: Spitzer's Corner (where we see H.S.T. at the bathrooms!), Local 138 (where we have the back room to ourselves for nearly three hours, and where we make original napkin invitations for Maple's "birthday party," to be handed out on the street later to randos), Home Sweet Home (where the dancing is contagious!). The night doesn't end (I think) the way all of us want it to, but we had a quite day and I'd like to give a HI-YO to Maple, hope you had a good bday baby. Love you. Asleep by 3.
Sunday: Wake up 1pm, shower, grab coffee downtown en route to meet my parents. We see "A Steady Rain," the broadway show with Daniel Craig and Hugh Jackman. It is phenomonal, one of the best plays I've ever seen. Unfortunately, for all you fools! it closes in two weeks. Take a picture of Julia Stiles on our way to Pio Pio (43rd & 10th), one of my favorite restaurants in New York, where we dine early for my grandfather's 85th birthday. Food = amazing. Back uptown after, chill with Craig for a bit before making my way to 999 for the second outting of the weekend. Is it really Sunday already? Bring my iPod, play a lot of music from it, people like my selections of mostly 80s blends. 2am, leave the bar with Craig and Rufus, drive down the West Side Hwy, blasting Hot 97! Don't know where we're going, arrive at Le Souk at 230 (LaGuardia & Bleecker Sts.). There is a DJ (it's Sunday night), girls (sluts), bottle service - it's fun and funny. Blends. Leave at 330 and go to The Room in Soho. Bottle of Foret, blends, we are struggling. Craig drives Rufus and I back to 9 & 3/4 at 415. Rufus and I get back home at 5 and split a beer in his room, listening to Sleigh Bells; we both crash at 530am. Was this weekend real?

Howl!

2009-11-18T12:48:00.000-05:00

No one, that's stupid. Before I forget, I'd like to give a special shout-out to MELVIN'S innovative new blog, "Monster of the Day," which can be found right hurr. A work of art, phosure. Yesterday, yesterday, yesterday, where have you gone? Yesterday was Tuesday -- it's important to record days and dates -- and what a FUN day it was!
4pm, head to 1020 with Sweats for drinks & darts. We do not finish our game because, after fifteen tries each, we can't hit the final bulls-eye. YES, he was beating me; NO, he officially didn't win. Have never been to 1020 while the light still shone outside, nor for happy hour (my happiest of the hours). While playing darts, the TV switches from ESPN to the end of Slumdog Millionaire -- interesting change given the crowd, but I sit down at the bar and roll with it, because the Jai Ho dance at the end of the movie is classic.
6pm, Beat Generation seminar (reccomend to all), read Allen Ginsberg, watch Allen Ginsberg, everything Allen Ginsberg today. May have been a little too drunk, which may have made the class a little unpleasant, especially at the end of two hours. No worries, I'm not worried, you shouldn't worry.
8pm, grab a Lewinsky at HamDel, eat it at 9 & 3/4, have another sip of Jameson, head BACK to 1020 to meet Ms. West & Co. Red hook! What else? Think we're going to meet P-Bear at Dorrian's for Tuesday Karaoke -- but plans change, dissapointment comes over me.
11pm, Rocky, M.D., MJdubs, and Dick come over to hang. Watch a 2007 comedy Smiley Face, with Anna Faris and Adam Brody. Ridiculous (ly funny)! I can't believe that shit came on.
.....................................SLEEP.

If anyone actually reads this, listen to "Crown On The Ground" by Sleigh Bells.

Guest Blog: Melvin's Night in Boston

2009-11-15T20:01:00.000-05:00

Melvin here. Our humble narrator and I have agreed that my night in Boston on Friday was one that necessitated a lengthy guest blog post. Let's waste no time and jump right in.

This weekend I drove up to Boston with friends Jojo and Skippy Peanut Butter for Jojo's 21st Birthday. Although Jojo's birthday fell on a Thursday, it was decided that Friday was the night to "go hard". It started early Friday afternoon when we rode bikes to the liquor store to pick up a sixer of Hoegarden. S.P.B insisted that we buy more, however Jojo and I had the foresight that this was going to be a long night chock full of heavy drinking.
We arrived back at Jojo's house (suburb ~20 minutes outside downtown Boston) and began to casually drink and play a little Monopoly. S.P.B, claiming to have never lost the game, bought up property as soon as he was able. Jojo, or "The Snake Oil Salesman" as we called him, tried to cheat his way to victory with sketchy maneuvers. In the end, S.P.B won with ease and we headed upstairs for a quick bowl of chicken chili to coat our insides with a protective layer before the onslaught of imbibing began.

By 9pm, we were gone. S.P.B sacked up and decided to be the DD for the night. Jojo and I were very upset until we noted that a chaperone would be needed if we all wanted to be alive by the end of the night. We entered our first bar in Harvard Square, an area of the city loaded with college kids and grad students looking to get DRUNK. The bar had a cool "Irish pub meets dive bar" atmosphere and we sat at the bar and ordered Blue Moons...then Sex Panther shots (Citrus Vodka, pineapple juice, and Tabasco recommended and on the house for our bday boy)...then Blue Moons, and we were gone. Next stop, a beer garden. Ordered a couple of Rogue Dead Guy Ales (Portland Wha Wha) and met a baller who had just hiked the entire Appalachian trail. He bought Jojo a tall boy of PBR and forced the bday boy to chug it. He did.

We left and went to a crappy bar where we ordered a shot (Red Headed Slut) and a another beer and didn't tip the shitty bartender. From here is where the night got interesting. We walked onto the Harvard campus and the following things happened:
1) S.P.B asking every single student "Where is the Dancing?"
2) Jojo, S.P.B, and I following students and sneaking into their dorms behind them.
3) Walking into student's rooms inside dorms and running away when we were seen.
4) Getting into a third floor bathroom of a dorm, finding shaving cream and spraying it all over the walls and mirrors, writing "Harvard Sucks, Columbia Rules"
5) Throwing pumpkins off of buildings.
6) Chasing possums
7) Sneaking into a dorm's dance party (S.P.B found his dancing after all), drinking massive amounts of jungle juice, and backing that thang up onto all kinds of blends.
And finally...
8) Threatening to perform Meatspin on a packed Harvard shuttle

The rest of the night proved very funny when Jojo was too drunk to lead S.P.B back to his house, dumped sour cream on a poor (sleeping) girl's head, and finally egged all the houses in his neighborhood.

Snug in bed by 5 (am).

-Melvin

Surprise!

2009-11-15T15:47:00.000-05:00

Last night: 10pm, surprise party in Shogun for M.D., see some old faces I haven't seen in a while. Drinks, slideshows, cake - it is a merry occasion. And the birthday boy was surprised! always good news. Drink drinks in Shogun until 11:30, then head to EC real quick to meet Rich Boy Tell 'Em. Drop off some treats, have a beer, and I'm off! to PDA, to meet back up with the birthday boy and his crew.
Blend at PDA with Rocky, Sauna, MJdubs, M.D., and Hu$tla for a couple of hours. We catch up, talk, drink, blend. Time flies, as the cliche goes, and it's all of the sudden 3 in da morning! Many of us part, say our good-byes, and MJdubs and I meet the lovely V.C. and dashing A.G. on our way back to 9 & 3/4 for a yum yum sesh. Lisa Leslie brings a couple, and we have ourselves a group. Fifteen minutes later, I'm sitting at Tom's Restaurant with the three musketeers, devouring a swiss cheese omelette and swiss cheese fries (my go-to, it's what I do). I am fucked up and do not say much. It is a quiet meal - I prefer, instead, to listen to the girls talk about whatever they were talking about. It's a solid night and I'm in bed by 4am.
It's been a long (but interesting) weekend.

Recipe For Disaster

2009-11-14T20:15:00.000-05:00

Go to the new Whole Foods on 97th & Columbus with Rufus yesterday afternoon, to buy the essentials: chocolate milk, tangerine juice, gluten-free brownie mix, eggs, butter, and beer. Come back to 9 & 3/4, put on our chef hats, and get to work. Speaking of recipes, check this out: Nosher NYC! Rufus makes for an excellent sous chef, I must admit. He is a great help. Dick stops by to say hi, as Rufus and I chomp down on our take-"in" from Thai Market. STICKY RICE!
Maple and Alvin get back from a run just as we're cleaning up. We indulge in our creation. I'd like to take this opportunity to give my best to Sweats: 9 & 3/4 is proud of (and loves) you for what you've accomplished this season. DUENDE, no doubt --> Mud beards are in this year. Not going to elaborate on the night in too much detail, but it didn't quite work out the way we planned. End up staying in the fortress all night, watch The Bourne Identity with Rufus and Horchata; well, at least some of it.

Milarepa, the Yogi

2009-11-13T13:41:00.000-05:00

“Though you youngsters of the new generation dwell in towns infested with deceitful fate, the link of truth still remains—When you remain in solitude, do not think of the amusements in town…You should turn your mind inwardly, and then you’ll find your way…The wealth I found is the inexhaustible Holy Property…The companion I found is the bliss of perpetual Voidness…Here in the place of Yolmo Tag Pug Senge Dzon, the tigress howling with a pathetic trembling voice reminds me that piteous cubs are playing lively…Like a madman I have no pretension and no hope..I am telling you the honest truth…These are the crazy words of mine… O h you innumerable motherlike beings, by the force of imaginary destiny you see a myriad visions and experience endless emotions…I smile…To a Yogi, everything is fine and splendid!.....In the goodly quiet of this Self-Benefitting sky Enclosure, the timely sounds I hear are all my fellows’ sounds…At such a pleasant place, in solitude, I, Milarepa, happily remain, meditating upon the void-illuminating mind—The more Ups and Downs the more Joy I feel—The greater the fear, the greater the happiness I feel…”

Stillness Is the Move

2009-11-12T15:05:00.000-05:00

"Stillness Is the Move" (Solange Cover)

Edit: So apparently the link isn't working, it's been taken down from Pitchfork by Universal Music for whatever reason. I'm going to leave it up, just in case, but I did download it, so if you ask NICELY, I can e-mail it you!

Karaoke Night

2009-11-12T00:56:00.000-05:00

Back to the Upper East for the second consecutive night?! Had much work to do, but once I was finished, met P-Bear at Trinity Pub (84th & 2nd) for a couple of beers. We'd both never been before - it was legit. Bartender was supa cool, though it seemed more of an after-dinner "date" joint. Great b-room blends, and a cool giant painting of three old dudes sitting wasted at a bar. One thing leads to another and we literally walk fifty paces to Dorrian's (me first time). This place was ridiculous. It's a Tuesday night at 1 A.M., it's pretty crowded, and it's karaoke night! Order (and consume) many drinks, sing/scream many songs, including one of my all-time favorites, Dead or Alive, by JBJ. There is one guy who is doing things that would normally get you kicked out of any other bar in the city -- but he is good buddies withe bouncer. He takes his pants off while dancing, he throws his empty glass back behind the bar, and he puts his leg up on the table of a young couple not enjoying an awkward date; he does all of these things and people just stare and laugh -- but doesn't get the boot. There are blends around, in the air. I have a great first night at Dorrian's. Taxi back to 9 & 3/4 at 3 A.M.

Carlos!

2009-11-10T17:54:00.000-05:00

Wrote most of my Beat paper, but slept really late yesterday, so had a sudden urge to go out and do something. Leave 9 & 3/4 around 1230 A.M., skip across town and check out P-Bear's new crib on the Upper East Side -- it's a cool pad. We have a beer, then he takes me to Kinsale Tavern, a local Irish pub around the corner (94th & 3rd). Have a couple more beers, catch up, discuss walking, talking, and just about everything, weddings! It is good to see him. Cab back at 230 A.M., eat turkey & cheese, watch some Dazed and Confused before bed. Let's hear it for Mondays, wooo!

Home Sweet Home

2009-11-08T22:04:00.000-05:00

Friday: Wake up around 2pm, call Robin Hood and ask if he's eaten yet. Meet him outside Butler library and we walk to Kitchenette. My head hurts, I am still slightly drunk (and stoopid). Have one of the best breakfasts in recent memory --> Lumberjack (two blueberry pancakes, two scrambled eggs, and bacon) & a Mimosa. Continue to be drunk. We talk about a late-afternoon activtiy and decide on seeing the new picture, The Men Who Stare At Goats. Though there is little plot, it was highly entertaining (especially in our state).
After the movie, Robin Hood and I walk into the soap shop, Sabon (70th & B'way), and I buy a dark red amber-scented candle, a mood-setter no doubt. It smells so good. Rich. Musk. Ride the subway back, it is 7pm and I am back at 9 & 3/4. Am really tired, but Rufus makes me three Negroni's, and I am once again drunk. I also eat some of his Chinese food from Empire Corner while him, me, Sweats, and Reggie discuss our plans for the evening.
We wish to go downtown tonight. ~~Take a shower~~ just kidding, I didn't shower (for two days). Horchata comes over and we start playing music. Soon Maple, Alvin, and Rosemary & Garlic are at 9 & 3/4. We decide on Home Sweet Home (131 Chrystie St.). Drink more beer, do blends, and we are yellow-shooting it down the FDR in two packs, our pack drinking Bud Lights on the way.
Arrive at Midnight. The eight of us dance, dance, dance for about an hour and a half, until we are all dripping sweat and agree that it is time to move on.
Next up: Max Fish (178 Ludlow St.). Pinball and Budweisers prove an epic combination. No more blends tonight. It is now 3am and I am in a cab with Sweats and Reggie. Give Sweats $7 and jump out at Toms. Thanks to being super smart, and having called Lisa L. from the taxi, I walked in right as a plate of Swiss Cheese Omelette and Swiss Cheese fries appeared before my eyes. YUM!
330am: head to 1020, but just missed last call. Still, we sit at the bar for a good twenty minutes. ?
4am: Church Bushes for a yum yum sesh.
5am: taxi home.

Non-Stop Party Now

2009-11-07T17:24:00.000-05:00

Thursday: take a mid-term, which I probably failed, go for a night run in the park; watch Se7en for the first time, it's a blend, then it's to Horchata and Leila's residence @ 115th & Riverside. Proceed to watch and dance to Shakira's "Shewolf" music video, and many other classics from the late 90s/early 00s, including Beyonce, TLC, Mariah Carey, Fat Joe, Ashanti, Ja Rule, and JLo.
Drink two 22s of Blue Point Toasted Lager, currently one of my favorite beers. By 11 o'clock, we are a pack of eight rolling to 1020. Walk in - it is crowded. I get a hold of the bartender, we are friends, I ask her for three drinks and four shots of whiskey. It is only $18. This must be because we are friends. I am blessed with good fortune in that I know the bartender. Take the shots (with three other people) and make rounds. I'm sitting in the back next to DeWilliam and I say, "It is hot in here, we should move on." He agrees. We gather the troops and, having been there maybe only fifteen minutes, we are out the door and moving again. We will obviously be back to 1020 before the night is over.
Next up: Lion's Head, a block away. Pitchers are bought, blends are done - we are now around ten people. Cousins, friends, old & new blends, we are a merry group. Spirits are high. It's not everyday that great spirits align to become one gigantic super spirit. Everyone is so giggly, and drunk, and high on life, and other things. We are there for maybe an hour.
We decide it is time to move on, attempt to go to La Negrita, which is closed? So we walk down to Ding Dong! Our group doubles in number the amount of people who are in the bar before we get there. wooooo COLUMBIA kids! We are so cool. More drinks. I think I have a Blue Moon. Dancing. Good music, though I'm not sure what was played --> hardly important.
And we're back to 1020! It could be 2am, maybe 230. See some of my favorite people. [Melvin is home in Portland for the weekend, we miss him]
Red hook, red hook, how dare you give me that look! Time to go.
Lisa Leslie, young BUC, Salts McGalts, Tomb Raider, and DeWilliam all joined me for a session back at 9 & 3/4 around 3am. I am fucked up at this point. I look around the room. Everyone else is, too. We listen to music and laugh. DUH. I started sending lots of texts to people once they leave around 4am. I climb in to bed with my phone and --SWEET SLUMBER.

To Be Continued....

Hit "Symbol" Twice

2009-11-04T20:23:00.000-05:00

Arrived at 9 & 3/4 at 11 o'clock last night. The views the West Side Hwy has to offer at night will never cease to amaze me. Speeding up by way of yellow cab, I'm ready to do it, ready to bone, 55th exit - damn, damn, already we home. Blasting JCasablancs out my headphones, splitting NJ and the Trump Towers, I realized I'd never listened to my iPod before in a taxi. Good to see the Hogwarts blends after the long weekend.
Maple's friend from home is in town for a few days, so a group of us headed to 1020 once the clock struck midnight. Characteristically empty on a Tuesday night, we had our selection of booths to sit at. Sweats and Reggie were there, as were newcomers to this blog, Lisa Leslie and young BUC. Two drinks and some lovely conversation later, and we was OUT. Me, LL, and YB stopped by KDR for some yum yum, and back to 9 & 3/4 we went.
Empty suite meant one thing: PARTY! Snoop Dogg & B-Real, youtube, and blackberry symbol keys (plus Maple wearing Harry Potter glasses) provided entertainment for the evening, as did excessive laughter and leftover Halloween Candy (Whoppers, Reese's cups, Hershey's, and Starbursts).
Note: Lisa Leslie learned how to give the "thumbs up" emoticon over BBM. We send her our congratulations!

This Is the Halloween Track Party, Right?

2009-11-03T00:16:00.000-05:00

So I've already slacked on the new blog, but sometimes you get that one-of-a-kind feeling inside you, and there's just no way you can't write. Tonight is one of those nights. It's a few days post-title, but I thought I'd write a little bit about the long weekend I've had, thanks to those in the class of 1968.

Friday night we hosted a Halloween party in our suite -- I was Harry Potter (isn't that obvious?) -- and though I won't get into specifics, it was clearly the best party ever. Just kidding, but it was pretty damn fun. I'd like to give a shout-out to those who made the party worthwhile. I thought I was headed to Brooklyn for a loooong night; instead, 9 & 3/4 was where I stayed. Oh, and 1020. And some other places. Blends, blends, blends. Kids rocked their costumes, people consumed heavy doses of HI-YO! and all was orange & black, though it was Columbia BLUE that shined through at the Ivy League Heptagonal Men's Cross Country championships, narrowly beating Princeton earlier in the day, 60-61, and winning the championship for the first time in four years! Congrats, fellas, Princeton sucks. Special congratulations to Sweats, I love you. I really wish I could write some of the blends that occurred between 1020 and 7am, but I just can't. BLENDS. Let's just say dancing on the tables at 1020 is frowned upon, though it WAS mischief night.

The actual day of Halloween came and went, the night before having left most of us either for dead or gone, compelling us to watch scary movies through the day and night.

Sunday morning: NYC marathon. First American champion in 27 years, MEB! Six Americans in the top 10, fucking legit. Ran with Sweats along Central Park and saw some of the blends, as per usual, and would like to declare my intention to run ING 2010. Just kidding! But, maybe.

I'm home in NJ ahora. Rufus and Horchata spent a solid 24 hours here, minus the fact that Rufus got some bad stomach blends and spent the night feeling not too hot. Breakfast this morning at the TP, some hometown exploration and Charlie Bartlett. Then I crushed them both in Monolopy -- one day I will build a similar empire (they'll be part of it, though). Dinner and they were off! Miss all my 9 & 3/4 blends.

Will be back in NY on Wednesday.

F 1 R 0 I 2 D 3 A 0 Y 9

2009-10-29T18:32:00.000-04:00

I must admit that starting this blog has already given me a rather fulfilling sensation due to the fact that I kind of want other people to read about the funny and crazy snapshot moments which, together, essentially make up the everyday lives of me and my suite mates (who, incidentally, are my best friends). For the sake of protecting identities, real names will not be used in this blog; however, all things "9 & 3/4" will contain 100% truth.

A Halloween party at Saint Anthony's Hell on THURSDAY meant one thing for FRIDAY: time to rally. It was decided that me, my two suite mates Maple and Melvin, and Melvin's friend from home would be starting the night off with a double man-date at Do Hwa in the West Village. A few beers and four full stomachs later, and we were off to meet my suite mates Rufus and Sweats, and their girlfriends Horchata and Reggie. We taxi-cabbed over to the East Village dive bar Cherry Tavern (6th btw. 1st & A), which I consider a shrine of sorts, where we also met Maple's older brother Alvin and his really cool friend from home, as well some old buddies of mine from NYU. Known for their Tecate (Tecate and shot of tequila for $5) and Old Glory specials (PBR and shot of whiskey for $6), we didn't waste any time. An hour and a half later and we were off -- but not before Talking Heads "Burning Down the House" blended from the jukebox -- to a friend's birthday literally around the corner, at Pyramid Club (A btw 6th & 7th). 80s music boomed from the speakers and dancing ensued.

I'd like to take an opportunity at this point in the narrative to explain that this was the first night in nearly six weeks that ALL five of us were out on the town together. I love Melvin, Maple, Rufus, and Sweats like brothers. Nights like this one are hard to coordinate and they hardly ever play out the way you want them to. But I know there will be many more like it -- many more even better.

Pyramid Club was awesome, good people all around. By 2am, we were off again. Melvin, Maple, and Melvin's friend made it to Cabin Down Below, the SUPER SECRET blend below the pizza shop at 7th & A, while the rest of us yellow-hopped it back to the Upper West Side. The after-after party (if you will). All in all, fucking epic blend of a night. Obviously certain things will be edited OUT of these posts because they are either a) incriminating, b) X-rated, or c) none of your business. But just know that (and this is another obvious thing) I don't go to bed at 2am. So when I end a post with the "after-after party," but there are no elaborations, just know.

You will notice that the word "blend" will be used repeatedly every day on this blog. Sometimes you may not know what it means, whereas other times you may. Do not be worried. Remain calm. You will learn.