Thursday, December 13, 2012
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Renovation Project in Woodstock, NY!
Hey bitches!!! I'm back again, only this time I am here to show a project I worked on a couple of years back! My friends bought a vacation house in Woodstock, NY, and did some major renovations on the property. One of the big challenge renovations was the Master Bedroom and Bathroom. It had gone through some major altering since the house was built in the 70's. It was first a loft area and had a u shape staircase in the middle of it. Then at some point in the 80's I think, the previous owners turned it into a Master Bedroom and Bath. Oh your god though, they had installed an oversized step up jacuzzi tub, a small ass sink, and weird toilet room in the middle. Really weird space.
So jeez louise, this was a challenge to reconfigure because 1, two walls are barn house shaped and angled, and 2, there are windows on every wall including 3 skylights. Also, there was no closet and no where to put one with all the windows.. So I came up with the idea of keeping the space totally open, except with a closet in the center so that when your in bed, the back of the closet can be used to put a TV against it with some privacy in the bathroom. We added 2 sinks, a shower and a free standing tub. The owners also added radiant heated tile floors throughout. It turned out pretty cool. Anyways, have a look and tell me what you think!
So jeez louise, this was a challenge to reconfigure because 1, two walls are barn house shaped and angled, and 2, there are windows on every wall including 3 skylights. Also, there was no closet and no where to put one with all the windows.. So I came up with the idea of keeping the space totally open, except with a closet in the center so that when your in bed, the back of the closet can be used to put a TV against it with some privacy in the bathroom. We added 2 sinks, a shower and a free standing tub. The owners also added radiant heated tile floors throughout. It turned out pretty cool. Anyways, have a look and tell me what you think!
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Salvation Lies Within The Breslin Does Mexican in Murray Hill
New Mexican Taco Place in Murray Hill! See below:
Salvation Taco
at the Pod 39 Hotel
145 E 39th St
(between 3rd and Lexington)
New York, NY 10016
Automobile Short Story #3!
So I have been mulling around about which story to tell next regarding my adventures with automobiles and my awesome luck with them... I'm totally innocent in this one for real, and for once, child.. Oh and you just cannot make this stuff up either!! This also happened in my 20's, but here in Brooklyn. As I said before, I love Manhattan and if I could, I would live here forever, but, our space is getting cramped, so who knows where we will b in the next couple of years. Not that we are leaving New York by any means. Also I'm still in my Carrie Bradshaw phase, for real... My Brooklynite friends are always trying to convince me to move back. They are all like "You can have a car and everything is cheaper here!". And I'm all "No way Jose!".. And this is the reason! Oh yeah and by the way and for the record, I'm not all about dissing about where people live and those who do are lame asses and need to get over themselves... So there...
Picture this child, middle of January 2004, and my ass has to go to Philadelphia for a Visual Merchandising Manager's conference for the weekend. At the time, I was working for Diesel USA and had been with the company for about 4 years. Helped open the Cherry Creek Store in Denver previously, and had by this time transferred with the company to New York. Was working at the Lexington flagship store and Just started going out to Long Island to work at the store out there, which required me to have a car.. Good thing I kept my car when I moved out here, otherwise that would have been a nightmare and daymare of a commute, like 2 hours each way child...
Anyways mates, the meeting goes really well and I actually had a great time! It was a nice break from the store, mostly because my manager was a total bitch. She was the type of evil whore that acts nice to you in front of other employees but then when it is just the two of you, she ends up being mean, critical, and micro-manager. Also, for some reason, she was also condescending to me and it had to do with the fact that I had just moved from Denver. Estupida! Little did she know! So then, back to the story. I take the train back to New York on Sunday morning because I have to work late afternoon! (And by the way, everybody else who was at the meeting had Sunday off! See I told you my boss was lame!). "No biggie! I'll just head home, drop off my stuff, and drive out to Long Island!", I say to myself.
So I get back to my apartment in Williamsburg, get ready and then walk down to the Williamsburg bridge to where my car is parked. As soon as I turn the corner I look down the street and my car is not there!! So of course I'm all, "Where the fuck is my car?!" So what do I do you ask? I call the police to report my car stolen, and get this, they are all telling me that I have an unpaid parking ticket from a month prior, and that my car was probably towed to the Brooklyn Navy Yard and to contact them. So I do and they are closed for the day. But then I'm all "No way, my car is a 1994 Acura Integra (only 70,000 miles on it) and I know that those cars are a target for parts from kids who like to supe up their Hondas or Acuras! Someone stole it for sure I think". So I call the police and tell them to get their asses down to where I am at so I can make a police report. Reluctantly they do and show up an hour later, and of course they can't even tell me if my car was towed or not.. Uggh, so they fill out the report, and then I head home and call off work...
But then child, as I am at the apartment, the wheels start turning in my head and I'm all, "Wait! What if my car really has been towed, then I need to go online and find out if I have a parking ticket because they probably won't let me get my car out without proof that the ticket has been paid." So of course I call my friend in Manhattan to see if he is at home because I hadn't had the internet installed at my apartment yet. So I find out that my homie is there and he tells me it's cool to come over and use his computer. Werd, so I get ready and head to the L train. I get to the L train and of course, they are doing maintenance on the track and the train is not running all weekend. So I am all "Great, now my ass has to walk all the way up and catch the G train, take it to Queens, transfer to the E, and head into the city that way!" So I head up north on Bedford towards the Nassau stop.
This is where it gets more nightmarish. I cross North 11th St, and as I am turning my head to see if there are any cars coming, I look down the street and about 100 feet away is my fucking car!!! "How the fuck did it get here?!" I say to myself. So I get real excited as I walk towards it only to find that the whole inside has been stripped! The seats and the center console are gone! Oh and get this, my stereo and CD 6 changer in the trunk is all intact! Weird. They completely sawed through my club on the steering wheel, stole the car, stripped it, and then left it in the same neighborhood. So I get the thing towed and I say "Fuck it, I am going to sell it on craigslist now!" So I do and the hellish commute commences, which doesn't last too long.
But as I always tend to move forward and try not dwell too much on the past, (Could you imagine if I did!? I'd probably be real depressed! haha) I totally look at this whole drama for your mama event in retrospect as a blessing in disguise. It actually made me look for a new job in the city, which I found not too soon afterwards, and no more evil boss either!
So the moral of the story is, well here are your choices!
A. Don't leave your car parked under the Williamsburg Bridge.
B. Don't work for evil whores!
C. Drive to Philadelphia, don't take the train.
D. Park your car in a garage when you leave town..
Oh wait! here is picture of my car that I found online....
Picture this child, middle of January 2004, and my ass has to go to Philadelphia for a Visual Merchandising Manager's conference for the weekend. At the time, I was working for Diesel USA and had been with the company for about 4 years. Helped open the Cherry Creek Store in Denver previously, and had by this time transferred with the company to New York. Was working at the Lexington flagship store and Just started going out to Long Island to work at the store out there, which required me to have a car.. Good thing I kept my car when I moved out here, otherwise that would have been a nightmare and daymare of a commute, like 2 hours each way child...
Anyways mates, the meeting goes really well and I actually had a great time! It was a nice break from the store, mostly because my manager was a total bitch. She was the type of evil whore that acts nice to you in front of other employees but then when it is just the two of you, she ends up being mean, critical, and micro-manager. Also, for some reason, she was also condescending to me and it had to do with the fact that I had just moved from Denver. Estupida! Little did she know! So then, back to the story. I take the train back to New York on Sunday morning because I have to work late afternoon! (And by the way, everybody else who was at the meeting had Sunday off! See I told you my boss was lame!). "No biggie! I'll just head home, drop off my stuff, and drive out to Long Island!", I say to myself.
So I get back to my apartment in Williamsburg, get ready and then walk down to the Williamsburg bridge to where my car is parked. As soon as I turn the corner I look down the street and my car is not there!! So of course I'm all, "Where the fuck is my car?!" So what do I do you ask? I call the police to report my car stolen, and get this, they are all telling me that I have an unpaid parking ticket from a month prior, and that my car was probably towed to the Brooklyn Navy Yard and to contact them. So I do and they are closed for the day. But then I'm all "No way, my car is a 1994 Acura Integra (only 70,000 miles on it) and I know that those cars are a target for parts from kids who like to supe up their Hondas or Acuras! Someone stole it for sure I think". So I call the police and tell them to get their asses down to where I am at so I can make a police report. Reluctantly they do and show up an hour later, and of course they can't even tell me if my car was towed or not.. Uggh, so they fill out the report, and then I head home and call off work...
But then child, as I am at the apartment, the wheels start turning in my head and I'm all, "Wait! What if my car really has been towed, then I need to go online and find out if I have a parking ticket because they probably won't let me get my car out without proof that the ticket has been paid." So of course I call my friend in Manhattan to see if he is at home because I hadn't had the internet installed at my apartment yet. So I find out that my homie is there and he tells me it's cool to come over and use his computer. Werd, so I get ready and head to the L train. I get to the L train and of course, they are doing maintenance on the track and the train is not running all weekend. So I am all "Great, now my ass has to walk all the way up and catch the G train, take it to Queens, transfer to the E, and head into the city that way!" So I head up north on Bedford towards the Nassau stop.
This is where it gets more nightmarish. I cross North 11th St, and as I am turning my head to see if there are any cars coming, I look down the street and about 100 feet away is my fucking car!!! "How the fuck did it get here?!" I say to myself. So I get real excited as I walk towards it only to find that the whole inside has been stripped! The seats and the center console are gone! Oh and get this, my stereo and CD 6 changer in the trunk is all intact! Weird. They completely sawed through my club on the steering wheel, stole the car, stripped it, and then left it in the same neighborhood. So I get the thing towed and I say "Fuck it, I am going to sell it on craigslist now!" So I do and the hellish commute commences, which doesn't last too long.
But as I always tend to move forward and try not dwell too much on the past, (Could you imagine if I did!? I'd probably be real depressed! haha) I totally look at this whole drama for your mama event in retrospect as a blessing in disguise. It actually made me look for a new job in the city, which I found not too soon afterwards, and no more evil boss either!
So the moral of the story is, well here are your choices!
A. Don't leave your car parked under the Williamsburg Bridge.
B. Don't work for evil whores!
C. Drive to Philadelphia, don't take the train.
D. Park your car in a garage when you leave town..
Oh wait! here is picture of my car that I found online....
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Xmas in New York!!
Well well well my fellow homies!!! So I finally went and got my herr did tonight after work, which was way overdue, because it was almost 5 weeks (the week of Hurricance Sandy Child!) since my last herr-cut. My herr grows really fast! Thank god my homegirl Nate does me up real nice! And I get to visit her at Warren Tricomi Salon in the Plaza Hotel.. Pretty Major in itself. So anyways, I met my friend Rocky for a drink afterward to catch up and then child, I realized how late I was going to be getting home, so I hi-tailed out of there and headed towards 5th avenue to walk to the east side to catch the train home.. So I get to 58th and 5th avenue only to be more distracted with the fact that Bergdorf Goodman is located right there, and their Christmas window displays are up in full force!!! I tell you they are so cool! Always are and always will be. So F'in rad. And then child, I'm all " My ass is now gonna be real late, because I have to take pics of these and share them with my homies!!!" So here they are... Enjoy... Btw, these were taken from my phone, and there was such a crowd so they are as good as I could make them, which I don't know what that means... These first few are awesome because the scene's view looks as if you are above looking down on them...
Friday, November 30, 2012
DJ Vitamin D feat. Miss Audry - That Latin Track
Oh your god! This is my homie Vitamin D and my home girl Miss Audry from back in the Denver days! Thanks Derrick for sharing. Brings back memories!
Stacey Pullen - Blackflag Mix (Sonica Club) - 27-11-2012
Hello my friends! Well what I normally like to do is post a Friday morning mix for you all to check out to get you into your weekend groove. This one is a set from Stacey Pullen. Some really good deep house and you can download it free! Have a good weekend, oh yeah, and another automobile story for you followed by a design project. Stay tuned cheyeld....
Stacey Pullen - Blackflag Mix (Sonica Club) - 27-11-2012
Stacey Pullen - Blackflag Mix (Sonica Club) - 27-11-2012
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Tatzu Nishi - Discovering Columbus
Look at this awesome photo of Rocky, Jamie, and myself at the Discovering Columbus exhibit.. The views were amazing too child....... I feel like we are the Supremes, except there are two whites and a mexigay instead...
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
066 / Walker & Royce
I love me some dope deep house music! Always have since 1995, when I went to my first parties back in Colorado! This music never gets old! Still don't why I have never learned to DJ. It's never too late, child...
066 / Walker & Royce
066 / Walker & Royce
I Love Bob Ross Quotes!
“The thing that's so fantastic about painting, it teaches you to see. Teaches you to notice nature … I've had people write and say ‘Bob, there's been a tree living out here in my front yard for 25 years, and I never paid any attention to it, and I started painting a little bit, and son of a gun, now I notice that tree, and there's shape and there's form and it's a whole new world that's opened up just because I've started painting.’ It teaches you to really see things … there …” –Bob Ross, 1990
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Monday, November 26, 2012
Friday, November 23, 2012
Automobile Story #2
Good Lord! There's so many of these... Really though, I think it's theraputical in a way, for me, not you, whores and childs alike. I mean it really puts things in perspective how wreckless one can be.. I have to say though it is a miracle that I'm still alive, child. And grateful...Oh yeah,, back to the story... Anyways, I call this as part of the Tony Buen-whore cronicles... .
Ok here goes child,
Picture this, March of something in 1995, Pueblo CO, child. Here I am 18 and overacheiver graduating a semester early in highschool, and all about it! Ugghh why.. Still don't know girls.... But anyways, I'm a working 2 jobs, one at Matrixx Marketing (you know the one) and some random telemarketing company... Wanting to move to Denver, but not knowing when or how... Anyways, one of my best friends,who is back and forth between Pueblo and Denver, is selling sheets of LSD, and guess who is helping? Well not me, at first.. But then child, I end up connecting her to cholos and cholacitas to get the ball rolling of course.. So this story starts on a Friday night.
My friend calls me to tell me she is in town and her parents are not, so of course my response is "Hell yeah, party at your parents house!" Oh but or course I have to tell you for one, that her parent's house is in a nice secluded neighborhood, and two, it is like a museum, as in the fucking place is spotless. Even the garage is a white box, where you see 2 cars and a floor mat, with no tools or cabinets or a lawn mower.. nada.. Everything is labeled and in the attic.. Weird...
So at this time in my life, I am driving a used 1987 midnight blue Jeep Cherokee, aka a closet suv according to my friend ( I can laugh about it now ). So I cruise over to my homegirls house to party it down, except, knowing in my head, that I have to work the next morning. "So no Lsd", I say to myself! So what do I do you ask? I have a friend go to Dogpatch Liquors to buy me a pint of tequila, and a six pack of beer, let's say a six pack of coors light... Anyways whores, I show up and so do a bunch of friends.. I end up drinking all of that while everyone else trips balls out... People are doing cartwheels down the stairs, a girlfriend goes after her boyfriend with a knife - crazy shit like that! Well, as we can all anticipate, my ass gets all wasted and I end up passing out in my Jeep. What I don't remember and what happens is that my foot presses on the clutch so that my car ends up rolling out onto the street. Oh and also my head falls on the wheel where the horn is going off continuously!!! Yep.. So everyone at the party, who is peaking by this time, tries to wake me up and grab my keys. But of course I'm not having it, I mean, they are on drugs and I am not, right? haha..
Bitches, this is where it gets good! I yell all beligerent at everyone, start my Jeep, and proceed down the street like a bat out of hell! My friend tells me, later of course, that all he could hear after that were screeching wheels, fences getting knocked down, you name it! Totally mowed down homegirl's neighbors fence, backed out, mowed it down again, backed out, mowed down another fence, wrecked into a fire hydrant, another car, got a flat tire, lost both contacts in my eyes, and end up leaving the scene of the crime wandering the streets until I make my way back to my friends house... Holy Shitballs!!!! Totally fucked!
Anyways, I go home the next day, and of course, there's a tow truck with my Jeep! Omg I was in so much trouble! So what do I do? I leave and move to Denver that week and that's when the love of Fab Fridays and every Saturday Raves begins, child...............................
So here's the moral of the story! Here are your choices!
A. Don't become friends with drug dealers.
B. Don't drive a Jeep Cherokee.
C. Don't drink a bottle of tequila and a six pack of beer by yourself.
D. Don't drink and drive.
E. Don't pass out in your car and allow it to roll down the street.
F. Don't mow down your friend's neighbor's fences...
Ok here goes child,
Picture this, March of something in 1995, Pueblo CO, child. Here I am 18 and overacheiver graduating a semester early in highschool, and all about it! Ugghh why.. Still don't know girls.... But anyways, I'm a working 2 jobs, one at Matrixx Marketing (you know the one) and some random telemarketing company... Wanting to move to Denver, but not knowing when or how... Anyways, one of my best friends,who is back and forth between Pueblo and Denver, is selling sheets of LSD, and guess who is helping? Well not me, at first.. But then child, I end up connecting her to cholos and cholacitas to get the ball rolling of course.. So this story starts on a Friday night.
My friend calls me to tell me she is in town and her parents are not, so of course my response is "Hell yeah, party at your parents house!" Oh but or course I have to tell you for one, that her parent's house is in a nice secluded neighborhood, and two, it is like a museum, as in the fucking place is spotless. Even the garage is a white box, where you see 2 cars and a floor mat, with no tools or cabinets or a lawn mower.. nada.. Everything is labeled and in the attic.. Weird...
So at this time in my life, I am driving a used 1987 midnight blue Jeep Cherokee, aka a closet suv according to my friend ( I can laugh about it now ). So I cruise over to my homegirls house to party it down, except, knowing in my head, that I have to work the next morning. "So no Lsd", I say to myself! So what do I do you ask? I have a friend go to Dogpatch Liquors to buy me a pint of tequila, and a six pack of beer, let's say a six pack of coors light... Anyways whores, I show up and so do a bunch of friends.. I end up drinking all of that while everyone else trips balls out... People are doing cartwheels down the stairs, a girlfriend goes after her boyfriend with a knife - crazy shit like that! Well, as we can all anticipate, my ass gets all wasted and I end up passing out in my Jeep. What I don't remember and what happens is that my foot presses on the clutch so that my car ends up rolling out onto the street. Oh and also my head falls on the wheel where the horn is going off continuously!!! Yep.. So everyone at the party, who is peaking by this time, tries to wake me up and grab my keys. But of course I'm not having it, I mean, they are on drugs and I am not, right? haha..
Bitches, this is where it gets good! I yell all beligerent at everyone, start my Jeep, and proceed down the street like a bat out of hell! My friend tells me, later of course, that all he could hear after that were screeching wheels, fences getting knocked down, you name it! Totally mowed down homegirl's neighbors fence, backed out, mowed it down again, backed out, mowed down another fence, wrecked into a fire hydrant, another car, got a flat tire, lost both contacts in my eyes, and end up leaving the scene of the crime wandering the streets until I make my way back to my friends house... Holy Shitballs!!!! Totally fucked!
Anyways, I go home the next day, and of course, there's a tow truck with my Jeep! Omg I was in so much trouble! So what do I do? I leave and move to Denver that week and that's when the love of Fab Fridays and every Saturday Raves begins, child...............................
So here's the moral of the story! Here are your choices!
A. Don't become friends with drug dealers.
B. Don't drive a Jeep Cherokee.
C. Don't drink a bottle of tequila and a six pack of beer by yourself.
D. Don't drink and drive.
E. Don't pass out in your car and allow it to roll down the street.
F. Don't mow down your friend's neighbor's fences...
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
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Next Short Story - The Automobile Series
Child, as some of you may or may not know, I live in New York City, where having a car is a nightmare, because basically it will get nicked, ticketed, towed, broken into, or stolen. (Mine did get stolen, but that's another story, not this one). Also, if you live in Manhattan like me, it is just plain expensive to have, especially if you have to put it in a garage. Besides that, there is plenty of other ways to get around anyway, like walking, taking the train, or a cab, which is fine by me! And this story will explain why this is good for you not having me behind the wheel too!!!!
So ANYWAYS, picture this, it's the year 1993, and I just turned 16. Oh yeah, but wait I have to tell you this first. A couple of years before that, my parents bought a 1983 Yellow Nissan Truck for me to drive when I got my license. It had mag rims and a black tarp to cover the back. Did I mention it also had a sunroof! Totally ran that thing into the ground, but I will get to that later in another story, as there are many of them in this series. So on Friday nights when my mom would hit the town, and when my sister would head to some keg party at the clearing (explain that one later fo' sho' too, in the party series of short stories!), my 14 year-old ass would sneak the truck and go cruising around my neighborhood, teaching myself how to drive a stick shift. So I got really confident driving by the time I turned 16, and getting my license was a piece of cake! For reals...
Anyways bitches, back to the story of when I turned 16. One weeknight about a couple of months after getting my license, I got off work around 9:00 pm at my part-time job (Furrs Cafeteria as a dishwasher = gross!) and got into my truck and started to head home. As I came to the intersection down the street, I stopped at the flashing red light and then started to proceed into the intersection when all of a sudden, I see a cop car flash his lights on behind me. The 5-0 pulls my ass over and starts to tell me that I didn't make a complete stop at a flashing red light. I'm still not sure if I did or didn't but whatever. But I'm so sure anyway, how dumb! Who fucking cares!? Uggh, obviously homeboy did so I basically I just sat there because I knew this asshole cop wasn't gonna let me get out of this without a ticket. So sure enough, he gave me a ticket and then tells me that I have to appear in court since I am under 18 and some other nonsense.
And then child, I go to court and of course, the judge was all telling me that I have to do one day of traffic school in order to get this violation taken off my record, so I do! So on one fine Saturday afternoon, I head to a full day of traffic school, which I couldn't even tell you what went on at class, because it was for days ago, but I am sure we watched some afterschool special driving scenario videos and whatnot. And then child, the instructor tells us that it's lunchtime and that we have an hour and to be back at 1:00. "No worries! I'll just cruise home to eat real quick and then head back"!, I said to myself. So I get into my awesome truck, and start heading to my casa. So I'm all in a good mood, and getting real close, let's say, about a block from my house, and what happens? Well child, I see a stop sign so I stop. Then I start to turn on my street, when all of a sudden, this viejo (old man) in his awesome brown 70's boat looking Ford Ltd comes cruising right up the street and, BOOM, I crash into his ass! And then child, I get out of my truck to see what damage there is, and of course, my left fender is all jacked up! I look at his car, and all I see is a broken turning signal lamp.. I'm so sure and of course this would happen... So what do I do? What any respectable teenager would do in my shoes. I basically pay the man off, and then child, I head back to traffic school all scared and shit that someone is going to find out! Nothing ever happens and I get my truck fixed later on.. And sure enough my friend can't stop laughing after I tell her.. It is actually pretty funny after all, ha?
So what is the moral of this story? Here are your choices:
A. Make a complete stop at a flashing red light.
B. Don't get a part-time job at Furr's Cafeteria.
C. Don't get in a car accident at lunch during traffic school..
D. Don't crash into a boat looking Brown 70's Ford Ltd.
More Automobile stories to come child.....
xoxo
Here is a picture of my Truck that I found online... Hilarical!
So ANYWAYS, picture this, it's the year 1993, and I just turned 16. Oh yeah, but wait I have to tell you this first. A couple of years before that, my parents bought a 1983 Yellow Nissan Truck for me to drive when I got my license. It had mag rims and a black tarp to cover the back. Did I mention it also had a sunroof! Totally ran that thing into the ground, but I will get to that later in another story, as there are many of them in this series. So on Friday nights when my mom would hit the town, and when my sister would head to some keg party at the clearing (explain that one later fo' sho' too, in the party series of short stories!), my 14 year-old ass would sneak the truck and go cruising around my neighborhood, teaching myself how to drive a stick shift. So I got really confident driving by the time I turned 16, and getting my license was a piece of cake! For reals...
Anyways bitches, back to the story of when I turned 16. One weeknight about a couple of months after getting my license, I got off work around 9:00 pm at my part-time job (Furrs Cafeteria as a dishwasher = gross!) and got into my truck and started to head home. As I came to the intersection down the street, I stopped at the flashing red light and then started to proceed into the intersection when all of a sudden, I see a cop car flash his lights on behind me. The 5-0 pulls my ass over and starts to tell me that I didn't make a complete stop at a flashing red light. I'm still not sure if I did or didn't but whatever. But I'm so sure anyway, how dumb! Who fucking cares!? Uggh, obviously homeboy did so I basically I just sat there because I knew this asshole cop wasn't gonna let me get out of this without a ticket. So sure enough, he gave me a ticket and then tells me that I have to appear in court since I am under 18 and some other nonsense.
And then child, I go to court and of course, the judge was all telling me that I have to do one day of traffic school in order to get this violation taken off my record, so I do! So on one fine Saturday afternoon, I head to a full day of traffic school, which I couldn't even tell you what went on at class, because it was for days ago, but I am sure we watched some afterschool special driving scenario videos and whatnot. And then child, the instructor tells us that it's lunchtime and that we have an hour and to be back at 1:00. "No worries! I'll just cruise home to eat real quick and then head back"!, I said to myself. So I get into my awesome truck, and start heading to my casa. So I'm all in a good mood, and getting real close, let's say, about a block from my house, and what happens? Well child, I see a stop sign so I stop. Then I start to turn on my street, when all of a sudden, this viejo (old man) in his awesome brown 70's boat looking Ford Ltd comes cruising right up the street and, BOOM, I crash into his ass! And then child, I get out of my truck to see what damage there is, and of course, my left fender is all jacked up! I look at his car, and all I see is a broken turning signal lamp.. I'm so sure and of course this would happen... So what do I do? What any respectable teenager would do in my shoes. I basically pay the man off, and then child, I head back to traffic school all scared and shit that someone is going to find out! Nothing ever happens and I get my truck fixed later on.. And sure enough my friend can't stop laughing after I tell her.. It is actually pretty funny after all, ha?
So what is the moral of this story? Here are your choices:
A. Make a complete stop at a flashing red light.
B. Don't get a part-time job at Furr's Cafeteria.
C. Don't get in a car accident at lunch during traffic school..
D. Don't crash into a boat looking Brown 70's Ford Ltd.
More Automobile stories to come child.....
xoxo
Here is a picture of my Truck that I found online... Hilarical!
Monday, November 19, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Saturday, November 17, 2012
The Design Series
Friday, November 16, 2012
First Short Story Child
Picture this, child, middle of October, 10:00 pm and I decide to hit the gym. I walk outside and realize its 70 degrees out, so I'm all saying and gay gasping to myself, "Hoagh forget the gym! I am totally going to go running along the east river down to Williamsburg bridge and back". So I do child and had a great run and of course totally feeling it with the nice weather, awesome views, nice surroundings, and of course my recently downloaded Nic Fanciulli podcast to jam to.
So anyways, on my way back up to midtown, my phone rings and it's my cousin so of course I answer it because she is on her way to NYC the following weekend and we have to get some details sorted and such. Last I remember is when I answered the phone I put my keys, which I had in my hands the whole time, in my pocket. So then I am all talking for about 10 minutes and when I hang up, I am for sure in a real good mood, because I am excited my cousin is coming for a visit! So I reach into my pocket and fuckin' hell, my keys are not there! And then child I reach around and find there is a hole in my pocket! Fuck!!!!! So I get into my building and go to my neighbors to see if I can crawl from his window onto the fire escape and just hopefully, hopefully, get to our bedroom window and open it and vuoila, I am in my apt. So after taking my neighbor's ac unit out of the window and crawling to the fire escape I try to push the window up and of course it is locked!! And then child I remember Jamie telling me "Make sure you keep the window to the fire escape locked so no one can break in." Yep.
So what do I end up doing you ask? I end up retracing my steps and scour with my phone flashlight the whole 4 miles of terrain that I ran on the east river! Mind you it's about midnight when I start to do this. Oh and did I mention my boyfriend, Jamie, is in India for two weeks and his keys are in the apartment on his dresser!? Ay ay ay. So then child, I never find the keys and by the time I make it back to my apartment and call a locksmith, It's 2:30 in the fucking morning, and I have a 9:00 meeting on a job site (I'm an Designer and Project Architect). So when Mr. Locksmith Rip Off shows up, its 3:30 in the morning now and there is homeboy drilling through my old lock and retrofitting me with a new one. Hundreds of dollars later and finally in my apartment, I take a shower, and go to bed at 4:30! Fucking hell I tell you....
So basically the moral of the story is, well you have 4 choices:
A. Always have a spare set of keys at your office or with a friend.
B. Don't lose your keys while your boyfriend is out of town.
C. Don't wear running shorts with a hole in the pocket.
D. Don't go running at night while your boyfriend is out of town..
And the downfall continues! More to come..........................Child
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