Numma One Stunna

Oh, you won't catch her ridin' dirty...she's lean, mean, trimmed in green, a law making, justice layin' machine. And I'll bet she can hook up the ill Curry. Props to India and the election of their first female president. Bo!

Not So Long Ago..In a Galaxy Very,Very Near...

Now, Is it me..or is there a TIE Fighter in close pursuit of the space shuttle?

Alotta Lotto

Hello children! Comfy? Cozy? After a short vacation on Rikers Island, I'm back to blogging. My topic today is the Lottery. More specifically, The millions of numbskulls who stand in line daily buying as many tickets as they can in the hopes of striking it rich. My problem is two fold. First, YOU'RE NOT GOING TO WIN! EVER! Stop wasting your child's Similac money on 20 lottery tickets that will never get you anything more than self esteem problems. Dammit people. 2) BUY ONE TICKET! I swear, there is nothing more annoying than standing behind some fruit cup, yelling out all of his/her favorite numbers; a child's birthday, their home address, the lucky numbers from a fortune cookie, your baby mama's fahvuh's prison number..whatever...it AIN'T gonna happen, mate. Just like everything you do: beeg show, no resoolts. So please, step aside and let me pay for my bottle of water. Hay-Zeus Chris Toe! And why is that when just as these people turn to leave, they ALWAYS have to buy just ONE more ticket? It never fails. enough already. Big Ups to Sally Struthers.

Hooters

Y'all probably thought I was going to talk about Hooters and Wings. No, this post is about a very special hooter from my youth. I learned how to read time using the toy pictured above when I was 3-4-5 who knows...YOUNG. I went to a vintage shop this weekend and found this, to my surprise, sitting on a shelf right next to the entrance. I almost plotzed. I haven't seen this thing since the mid-80's. Oh, nostalgia...

Would you like a byag?

Every morning, upon entering my office building I pass by the exact same newsstand to pick up my breakfast. Usually, I grab a banana, some plain yogurt and a Redbull. Each day the woman behind the register asks me: a) "Would you like a byag" (bag) b) "a spooun" and never hooks up napkins. My response to these questions is always the same, "yes, yes". I'm saying, does she expect me to juggle the items upstairs and then eat the yogurt with my fingers? Furthermore, I've been in there everyday for months, at the same bat-time on the same bat-channel. Cut me some slack lady, please. Buy the coke, cook the coke, cut-it and send me on my way.

Why, Oh Why?...

...Could this not have been the response to the blatant failures and continuing dishonesty of the Bush Administration. Oh latency, how America loves you so...

I Love New Jersey

I see this billboard from my train on the daily. God I love Jersey (I really do).