henrydo.net

I wrote an email to Sara Bareilles and she actually responded. This is the first fan mail I’ve ever gotten a response to. Just for that, I’m going to tell both readers of my blog to check out her music. So check it out yo. It’s rad.

As I walked across the Pulaski bridge this morning to get to the subway, I heard a noise from behind me. I turned around and saw that a bicyclist had almost hit a pedestrian and they were engaged in a heated exchange:

Cyclist: “FAGGOT!!!”

Pedestrian: …”well, it takes one to know one.”

Ladies and gentlemen, the worst comeback known to humanity is still being uttered to this day. For those of you who aren’t keeping track, here’s the current score:

• Cyclist: -10 points for the lame insult
• Pedestrian: -20 points for being lame
• The Human Race: -84 billion points for lamely allowing these two to exist

The nice thing about having cats is that I always have a box full of poop handy. You know, for all of those times I think to myself “man, I sure wish I had a box full of poop around. Oh wait, I do! Heavens be praised!”

Last night I dreamed that I bought a bag of apples from the grocery store, took them home, walked into the bathroom and placed them on the lid of the toilet tank. According to my crazy dream-world logic, that was the best place to store apples.

When I woke up this morning I thought to myself “man, that was a weird dream.” I got out of bed, walked to the bathroom… and saw a bag of apples sitting on the lid of the toilet tank. Since I haven’t purchased any apples in months, I was very confused. How the hell did a bag of apples get into my apartment, let alone my bathroom?

Then I really woke up. I got out of bed to check the bathroom. No apples. It was all just a dream-within-a-dream. I feel so relieved.

Though if I see a bag of apples in my bathroom when I get home from work tonight, I’m going to freak out.

Good news: the bag of garbage I forgot about was left untouched by the kitties. Crisis over. You may all return to your lives now.

Before I left for work this morning, I pulled the kitchen garbage bag out of the trash can, tied it up and set it on the floor next to the sink so could throw it away when I left the apartment.

Now I’m at work and I realized I forgot to take the garbage outside. Thanks to my kitties, I’m sure I can look forward to a bunch of trash strewn about my apartment when I get home this evening.

Now the site has a new theme. Yay.

I dreamed that I was in the Chinese mafia and fell in love with the daughter of a rival crime lord. The weird thing about this is that I’m not even Chinese.

I was strolling down the street in my neighborhood during a warm afternoon the other day when I saw a large, hairy man with no shirt standing on the sidewalk, checking out girls as they walked by. As one passed by him wearing a low-cut top, he said:

“I like it when the weather gets warm because that’s when the titties come out!”

She instantly tore off her clothing and jumped on him because no woman on Earth can resist that kind of sweet talk. I’d like to try that line as well but I’m afraid I’m just not cool enough to pull it off.

In an effort to cut down on crime, the police here in New York City currently conduct random searches of people’s bags in the subway terminals. The problem with this is that the searches are consensual which means if you don’t want the cops to search your bag, you can just leave the subway.

How does this improve the security of the subway system? If I’m Joe Terrorist and I have half a brain, I will just walk away when the cops ask to search my bag full of hand grenades and board the subway somewhere else. Am I missing something here?