A Shout Out To Dizzle

My friend JD pointed out, rather grudgingly, that I have given him no shout-outs on my blog. I find this hard to believe-but I am also far too lazy to go back and re-read the drivel I try to pass off as an entertaining read, so I'll just give him a shout-out now:

JD, you are the hippiest honky-ass hippie I have ever known. You spill rum far too easily, but you play a mean drumset. Did I mention the hippie factor? God, you are just a smelly, patchouli-ridden hippie. You wear shirts that say things like, "Give a Hoot-Vote Green Party", and it makes me laugh when you weep about Phish. But your girlfriend is cool and you're a fun drunk. Sorry you got mugged. The Derick impressions are spot on. I guess whatI'm trying to say is-"I love you, Dizzle. Now get a job, you lazy hippie."

That's right. I adore my friends.

So New York New York. I have gotten a job, so the money woes have been stymied for the time being. Not that I have so much money that I'm buying solid gold hookers and Waterford crystal crack pipes or anything; but at least I can pay the rent.

My friend Melissa came in this weekend to visit. Melissa is one of the best friends I have ever have, and her visit this weekend made it very clear why: Melissa likes getting drunk and watching TV as much as I do. The farthest we ventured out of my apartment was to check out a couple of bars in the Brooklyn area on Saturday night. The rest of the time we were drunk and theorizing about the non-existent morals of the people on the Next bus and why they don't make shows like ALF anymore. I think it was the ASPCA's involvement. They intervened on behalf of all the cats.

And here's a plug: I Love The 80s-The Board Game is the best thing that ever happened to drunken assholes. Don't believe me? Get as many Olde English and King Cobra 40s as your little arms can carry, down them, and then try and sing the words to "Faithfully" by Journey. I know. You're laughing already.

I have a problem with New Yorkers that can't walk in a straight line down the street. They weave here and there, stop in the middle of the sidewalk, and move slower than a stroke victim on a rascal. In DC everyone thinks they're the most important person in the whole world, and that if they don't knock people over on their way up the Metro steps, the universe might collapse in on itself. That's how you get a city moving. Fill it with delusional Hill staffers.

Heading out to some stand-up shows this week. Let's just say that my NYC Improv comedy experience left a little to be desired, so here's hoping the stand-up is an entirely different animal.

Like a jackalope.