dogs think i'm awesome

i was riding home after work. it was a beautiful evening in boston, cool and windy; the whole city smelled like the ocean. i like riding at night, as long as i have my lights on so i don't have to fear for my life around the worst drivers in america. on a night like tonight, i just feel bad for the poor suckers in their cars. with good music on the 'pod and the wind in my face, it's the only way to get around.

anyway, i was about halfway over the charles, with all of cambridge spread about in front of me, and a car pulls up alongside me. we're going exactly the same speed, and i find myself face to face with a big brown dog who has his head stuck out the window about 2 feet away. he's got a big dog grin on his big dog face and he looks at me and i look at him. yeah, i think we shared a moment, i'm not ashamed to admit it. he knew what was up.

last weekend, completely randomly, we ended up in the nyc dog fair in madison sq. park. they had a booth for just about every breed and there were maybe 200 people and 400 dogs of all sizes roaming around the park. it was pretty damn awesome. i'm not sure what brought on this whole pet love-in, maybe the long distance relationship thing is making me lonely, but someday pretty soon (when i sell my first novel, duh) i'm gonna get a dog. i grew up with cats, and my sister has cats, and my roommate has cats, but good goddamn, am i ever sick of cats. can you picture what a cat fair would be like? crazy people and snobby cats looking at each other across the park. plus hairballs everywhere. fucking cats.

the cool kids

the day is fast approaching for my return to boston—land of cold winds, cold hearts, and cold harpoon!  sadly, beantown is also lacking in the type of interesting, hilarious, friendly, engaging, welcoming, thought provoking, thoroughly enjoyable, readable, and loveable (and lustable) blog scene that i’ve discovered in just my few short weeks here.  i’ve really enjoyed getting to know all the dc bloggers i’ve mentioned, and i’ve posted a few comments here and there on your various sites.  needless to say, i’ll still be a regular reader up in boston.

which brings me to point #2.  i want to invite any readers i have (i think there’s like 2 of you.  what’s up?  you should probably introduce yourselves to each other) to send me some links to any bloggers you know/read/met once/slept with in boston in the interests of making some connections.

my days of interning (and having both internets and the free time to make the most of them) are over as of 6pm today, so posts are going to be more sporadic over the next few weeks.  sorry, but that’s the way it goes.

i (don't) need a roommate (at the moment)!

anybody have any friends in the greater boston area who (might) need a room for the next year (or part of the year) (assuming i can find an apartment that requires me to have another roommate)? i (might) have a room i need to fill for $550/month plus utilities (or some completely different amount). leave a note in comments and i’ll get (purely hypothetical) details to you somehow.

it's a long story. suffice it to say that landlords are a demented subspecies of human (distantly related to the greedius ceo-us that terrorizes american boardrooms. they exist solely to wring every last cent from us tenants by raising rents, making empty promises, and doing their damnedest to stamp out all that is good and decent in this world.

my current (soon to be ex-) landlord rented my apartment out from under my roommate and i back in boston, an event i only recently heard about. now i'm scrambling from many miles away to find a replacement place that is agreeable. my roommate and our tentative third roommate are doing their best as well--resulting in yesterday's aborted lease-signing/celebration/sigh of relief--and i have no doubt we'll find something sooner or later. it's still stressful though, especially so given the fact that i don't really want to live with either of them.

my dream is to have my own place, a studio or a one-bedroom apartment, all to myself. don't get me wrong, i'm a fine roommate and i have no real complaints about the people i've lived with. i just don't want to do it anymore. i'm sick of other people's dishes, other people's friends, other people's furniture, and having to ride herd on people to pay their damn share of the cable bill. but sky-high boston rents and crippling unemployment seem to indicate that i have no real choice in the matter. keep your fingers crossed though, august is a long month, and something good might still happen.

there goes my screenplay idea

the someday café really is closing this time.  and sooner rather than later.  that’s kinda sad, despite what i said before.  i don’t even like mr. crêpe, and it sounds like they were steamrolled by developmentophiles and a cocksucker landlord.

not that there’s anything surprising about that.  if there’s a single landlord in boston who isn’t a cocksucker*, i’d be glad to shake his/her hand.

when i first wrote about it, i figured it would be like in empire records, and through a very watchable combination of pluck and short skirts they’d turn it all around, possibly by baking brownies or inviting scul over to shake down the fatcats or waging guerilla war on artbeat.  so much for life imitating art.  at least i can still go to diesel to play pool/get sneered at for my hopeless corporatism.

now i’m just depressed.

*quick disclaimer about cocksucking.  i’m all for it--i don’t care who you are or whose cock you’re sucking, i think it’s fan-fucking-tastic.  really, knock yourself out.  i just think it’s a completely, awesomely useful word.  james lipton, if you’re reading this, one question down, nine to go!

a paean to my liquid masters

alright, listen up coffee gods!  i did your damn dirty work for far too long to have to put up with this shit!  make the someday café into a crepe place?  you might as well make it a chipotle, asshats!

ok, ok, i don’t even like the place very much (sorry, jen).  but i do recognize that a lot people think it rocks their socks off, and that it’s not populated exclusively by anti-establishment zealots with nothing better to do than look down on me for having a real (i.e. horrible) job just for the health insurance.  after all, coffee shops cannot be (entirely) blamed for the cockbites who have nowhere else to go because they had to choose between paying rent on their apartments and rent on the practice space for their band (that is this close to being signed, dude, seriously).  there might be a few someday patrons who aren’t like that.  of course, they would never stick up for me, because they’re craven, hipster, myspace riffraff and too dependent on approval from their poorly coiffed pack leaders.  not that i’m bitter or anything.

i don’t even mind the rampant antistarbucksism.  it’s the evolution from there to antidanbecauseheworksatstarbucksism that gets my dander up.  it’s like i always say, “don’t hate the playa, hate the game!”  Asshats.



p.s. gus, i know you don’t remember me, but one time i got stoned in the basement of the toscanini’s i worked at.  it was my first day.

p.p.s. someday café, get some new goddamn couches already.

p.p.p.s. coffee gods, praise and glory be to your wonderful *cough*addictive*cough* gifts!  this loyal acolyte will have your ritual sacrifice ready no matter what you do to destroy my beloved davis square!  caffelujah!*





*until i can discover how to usurp your power and take my place among you mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!