A Homo-Erotic Assault in A Revolving Door

The Scene of the Crime

CW's trip to NY wasn't totally crime free. Though I'm glad to report the city's cops and security were on full alert for the anniversary of 9-11, inspecting trucks, panel vans (would be pervs), and suspicious people at just about every intersection, it didn't stop yours truly from being accosted in public.

That's right, I was the victim of a man on man, semi-erotic, assault...in a revolving door. And I guess it's true what the experts say, most assaults of a sexual nature are perpetrated by someone you know.

It all went down while exiting the World Financial Center, there I am, minding my own business, entering the revolving door, completely unaware of the crime about to be perpetrated upon me. I make the initial push into the 3x3 cube of glassed in space, everything is fine up to this point. I take my first step, go to make my second, and it happens. My shoe is stuck. Thinking I'm caught in the door I let out a pannicked "AHH." I look back, it's much worse. I'm now jammed awkwardly inside of this glass cube of emotion, dick to ass, with one of our road trip companions. Embarrasment, shame, and a whole mixed range of emotions ensue. Our girlfriends laugh uproaresley. Apparently our dirty deed was something of humor to them. Callous. 

We frantically walked back to our hotel rooms after the incident and showered away the experience, but I fear the shame and humiliation (or at least the inevitable jokes from the girls) will haunt us forever.

My Interpretation of Massachusetts, As Divided By It's Major Highways

Through my many travels around our great state I've begun to realize that not all of Massachusetts is created equal. In fact, the great State that I know and love, really only exists from 495 - eastward, to me, once you cross west of 495 you've left Massachusetts proper and entered a bizarre mix of Upstate New York, Southern Vermonters, Massachusetts hicks, and Worcester for good measure (I feel bad for Worcester, it really belongs on the right side of 495).

The division of the state goes even further than that, because within 495 there are even further divisions of life and culture that are all fairly clearly defined (at least in my own admittedly, bizarre mind) by our state's major highways.  Please see my homemade map for further evidence (refer to the actual map above for highway numbers).

DOUBLE CLICK MAP TO ENLARGE

True Massholes as we know them really only reside in an area approximately the size of Rhode Island, East of 93 and 95.  Here you'll find the smattering of normal every day working people, Lax bros, Rich Cape Codders, and people who fish and star in movies like The Perfect Storm.  West of 95 you find the people who've elevated their status beyond Masshole, this is where the well-to-do families reside, the bosses of current Massholes. These guys also happen to pay all the tolls that support our states highway system, so I don't have any real disparaging remarks.  Beyond 495, Massachusetts as you know it, ceases to exist. Sure Worcester is out there on its own, a Masshole Bastion in the midst of Southern Vermont and Northern Connecticut.  And Springfield is out there somewhere too, providing a sliver of urban life amidst transplanted upstate New Yorkers, but really that's it. I've never met someone from outside the hub that I've found relate-able as a fellow Masshole.

Blogologues: I Need a Vocation - The Alt-Tab Makes It's Red Carpet Debut

Contrary to prior rumors started by yours truly, the Alt-Tab's big opening night happened this past weekend (postponed due to that bitch Irene), which meant CW could actually attend and give back to his adoring fans (well, all 3 of them that came with me anyway). 

Now for my completely objective subjective review of the show:  It Was Awesome! The cast was great, the material hilarious and you got a free 16. 0z Bud Heavy at the door with your ticket.  I mean, its Manhattan, you're going to spend $15 dollars on a beer anyway, throwing in a hilarious show is just a bonus.  Highlights of course included the performance of "Washing Your Hands at Work," as well as excerpts from Grace Bello (Splitsider), I Care Deeply, Penelope Trunk,  something called 27b/6, It's Not You It's Your Position, Adventures of a Classic Housewife, and WTFIsUpWithMyLoveLife.

Yes, CW was the least qualified writer of the night.

Be sure to give them all a read when you get the chance, I mean, you're procrastinating anyway, right?

And once again, if you're in NYC and looking for a funny show on the cheap (and a free Tall-Boy), check out the Blogologues, performed at Under St. Marks (94 St. Marks Place). You won't regret it.

Bike Thief Chops Down Tree Like a Boss

I have no words. I mean, the level off effort that one dude with the axe put in to steal this bike, and then only to run when the tree came down like a little girl? What the hell did he think was going to be the outcome? It's as if the falling tree shocked him.  Dude! You just chopped down a tree steal a bike...steal the fucking bike!  Far be it for me to condone these guys actions, but if you're going to go through the trouble, at least follow through with your plans. Fucking laziness, I tell ya...probably fans of this blog or something.

And that's without even mentioning the fact that they probably could have just as easily chopped through the lock on this bike. I don't know what kind of chain this guy used on his bike but I think its safe to say most bike locks from Target or Wal-Mart can't withstand homicidal maniacs with axes (ax'i? What's the plural of axe?)

PS: Why does someone living in a concrete jungle even an own an axe to begin with, that might be the most disturbing thing here.

Biggest Tourist Attraction in Manhattan? Bronzed Bull Testicles off Wall Street

No joke, this may have been the hottest tourist spot in NYC on Saturday. The bronzed bull in the financial district. And as a fairly immature tourist myself, I of course made a point of making my way down to the bull to pay homage.  Sure there's about 1 million other more significant things to see in the city, and if you're only in town for one day, maybe you'd pick the Flat Iron building, or the Empire State Building, or one of those open air bus tours, but not me. I knew right where I wanted to go.

And much to my surprise and disappointment so did everyone else. Like here I am, leading our group down Broadway trying to find this mythical beast, when I just see a throng of people all over it. This thing is like foreign tourist central.  Asians taking pictures with the head, Latino's/Spaniards pretending to be running from it like its stampeding, Indian's worshiping its virility (and taking photos cupping its balls which up until Saturday I would have assumed would be disrespectful to their many deities), and of course the lone white man and his buddy taking pictures pretending to have his head stuck up its ass...no, surprisingly that wasn't me.  I went for the much more traditional snap shot of the bull's nuts and turd cutter...the taint if you will. I think I did a pretty good job capturing it's true essence.