Today’s soundtrack:
she treat me like a king,
I treat her like a doggone queen.
Today at 7:42pm: Stuck on a 7-train experiencing intermittent delays.


I’ve been swamped with stuff, that’s why I haven’t updated in a while. So, so busy. Freelance gig for this German firm. Working for The Germans is hard. They demand a level of commitment of you that makes it easy to see why Nazism took root in Germany as opposed to, say, Thailand or Venezuela.

The Germans told me it was a five-day project but it’s been eating me alive for nearly two weeks. Working ‘til 2am and all that shit. I should’ve said no--“Nein means nein!”--but I need the Deutschmarks.

Holy shit is it cold out, ridiculously freezing! Fuckin’ penguins couldn’t take this kind of cold, like if NYC had them you would see penguins just passing out on the sidewalk.

Weather like this makes me admire homeless people, those are some durable motherfuckers. The only reason I’m alive is ‘cause I’m homeful. I can barely hack the walk back from the station and there are motherfuckers out there sleeping right now. With a different shake of the dice they would be Navy SEALs.

A few entries ago I wrote that I would date an Eskimo but I changed my fucking mind. Because they might try to drag me up there for Christmas or some shit and that’s not gonna happen, yinnah mean.


SHE: So it’s over? Just like that?

ME: I’m afraid so, Nanooka. I just can’t take the cold.

SHE: But I moved into a new igloo for you and sold my snowshoes.

ME: Those are the breaks, Creamsicle.

SHE: Stop calling me that.

ME: Those are the breaks, Eskimo-pie.

SHE: I hate when you call me that too.

ME: Well it’s not like I can pronounce your name! Christ, the only time that thing comes in any good is if I’m playing Scrabble.

SHE: I hate you.

ME: I hate your weather.

SHE: My brother’s going to kick your ass. You better watch it or you’re going to wind up with a harpoon in your chest.

ME: Please. Right now your brother’s on a dogsled somewhere screaming “Mush.”

SHE: You’re such a coward.

ME: Say what you will. I need to go someplace where Fish Eyes is an ocular condition, not a fucking dessert.


Then again who knows? Maybe we would work it out and I’d quit my job to move up to the Arctic Circle. I’d open a small nightclub called the Klondike Bar and I’d serve drinks with names like The Sir Edmund Hillary or Twenty Eight Days of Darkness. I’d have a guy from Poland working for me as a barback and I’d call him The North Polack. Who knows.

Another reason I haven’t been updating is because I’ve been spending a lotttttt of time with Businessgirl. We had a killer thing happen where we were able to spend like three days in a row together. Not completely, I mean we still have to go to work and shit, but we got a lot of what she calls “face time.” I adore her.

She made me cookies over Thanksgiving. According to my personal principles, this means I would now kill in her service. I hope she never finds this out or I may one day actually have to kill someone and go to prison.


CELLMATE: What are you in for?

ME: Oatmeal raisin. The fuck are you staring at.


I love the way Businessgirl talks. She’s what people from Boston would call “wicked smart.” Also she’s funny and she snaps her fingers when she has a sudden thought. Sometimes I make a little quip and she can add on to it or complete it, a quality I rarely see outside of my best friends.

She has all these cute mannerisms but I’m going to cut this off here before I veer into gushing. I don’t want to be a gusher. Are you a gusher? If you are you should talk to someone about it. (Someone other than me.)