bathrobe=pointless

Will someone please explain the luxurious cotton bathrobe to me?

I used to use a towel. Out of the shower, dry off. Done. Then dry, I would either sit around naked or put on clothes. Now I put on a bathrobe and hang around dripping wet, or use it to dry and then wear it around, a big heavy wet towel with sleeves, pockets and a belt.

I guess I could towel dry as before and then use the robe as interim clothing before actually getting dressed. How many times does someone need to get dressed in the morning? That sounds comparatively demotivational, since I'd be warmer than naked and less inclined to put clothes on. Also, I'd have the bathrobe and the towel at the same time, which seems doubly complex from the old way.

Also it's more work and laundry to carry around, hang up, etc. Help me out folks- how do I use this thing?

the conversation that never ends, or 'you probably won't find this funny'

Some names changed to protect the uninvolved from a newsfeed/posting on facebook:


Vincent Has no use for freedom if it doesn't involve being shackled to MN.
12 hours ago · Comment · LikeUnlike · View Feedback (13)Hide Feedback (13)

JP:
Shackles are kinda weak. Go skin graft or not at all
11 hours ago · Like

Vincent:
That's what we gotta fear, J:. Our generation got tattoos when they wanted to make their parents upset. Our children will get live otters grafted to their friggin' skulls.
10 hours ago · Like

JP:
Live otter is a fantastic idea. A living whinnying mullet toupee with built-in puppy dog eyes. Think of how many undesirable men you're enabling to attract mates. The food cost would pay for itself in free drinks and sunblock.
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike ·

And don't think for a moment you're not crossing that threshold to invoke THE Lamont unnoticed. He's watching you from the bottom drawer, boy. Sing the thing and maybe get ker-plotzed in green oatmeal. It's funny to watch speech patterns unfurl over decades!
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike ·


JP: July 5 at 7:50am
I WAS THERE!

I was there when the strength of Otters failed. It was three thousand years ago (aside: was it *really* 3000 years or was he just being dramatic? I mean it could have just as easily been two thousand seven hundred and thirty six years ago but who's counting but really. At the 3K anniversary he should not have been surprised that this was all going down. How do you surprise an immortal?) I took you into the mountain towing a pallet of "Today" sponges and said DO IT VINCENNT! CAST LAMONT INTO THE FIRE!

And you turned to me with your bloodshot eyes, shiny black otter whimpering in the cascading swirls of Dutch Ice clinging desperately to your eyebrows, with a short shrug of the shoulder it dove back around your neck and under that ridiculous Fez you used to wear all the time and you said "nno". So this is all your fault. Of COURSE it was aware of certain fire hazards; three fuckin millennia ago it was chillin in the kidneys of a goddamn volcano!!

By the way you owe me 40 minutes because this is all I've been able to think about for that long without turning the computer back on and getting it down. Right now, four blocks away a sweaty dominican woman is frowning at my clothes, still in the washing machine without anyone to take them out and the early bird line of 7:45am tapping their feet and looking around nervously.

The time it took to write it is on me.



Vincent July 5 at 10:41am
When you want to collab on a book -- I will find the time to do it with you. I have seen bad art, and this is not it... the pants of my brain are charmed off every time you talk to me, and the test of time has shown an alchemy that references are made of. Aware of certain fire hazards indeed. I am team JP, he is my best seller.


JP: July 5 at 11:00am
Hm. You are indeed my friend! I would love to stand or sit around and riff until the cows come home twice, at your leisure or discretion. However we both know a few things, down and deep and dirty and they are: (a) you are far more generative creative and prolific than I and (b) your dad's artwork books would sell more multiples of the drivel we concatenate. I have learned that when trying to relate those parts of our conversation which do not begin or end anywhere in particular, audiences roll their eyes and say something like "I guess I had to be there" or "you could have just said 'you probably won't find this funny'. "
The fact that you are willing to jump aboard my mental raft-of-the-medusa and ride along until the tide settles only perpetuates your sublime standing of my esteem and respect.

However if you are so inclined I will post the bulk of this synaptic meltdown on a blog and see if there are any hangers-on; a pre-selected test market of willing readers.


And so it is, all. Any comments, or is this just too left-field for words?

grey sunday, yummy saturday

What a great weekend. Getting lots of "stuff around the house" done. I like grey Sundays. When it's humid and muggy and threatening rain and most people (including a certain special someone) sleep in I always want to run around and turn in early. That's the plan for today, and already well-caffeinated so that shouldn't be a problem.

Anyway took a short half-hour ride this morning, twice around the park. About eight miles total. Not very exciting as a route and boy was it crowded! I have to get out at six or seven to get enough comfy breathing room. At 9 am people are zipping by me left and right, I'm doing the same to runners, and other peds crisscrossing the road pretty continuously from one end of the park to the other. Lots of people already done with their rides, or just getting together congealing on benches and staring at everyone going by, playing "how much is that bike worth"? I should just wear a sign that says "cheap bike" and avoid all the staring.

Yesterday was huge. Walked about eight miles through brooklyn with stops at a library and a curio shop, over the bridge, to J&R for supercool camera shopping, to chinatown for vegetarian dim sum (YUM) to union square to ladies' mile. The crowds, and the train ride home were the low points but we took the local bus instead of the shuttlebus-train-replacement and that was much much nicer. Then asparagus risotto for dinner. More yum. Ended it with a bunch of scrabble and a couple of glasses of wine... I'm telling you all we needed to top it off was a swim.

All bellyaching aside, not too bad.

Today's route:

http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=3599763

I faked it a little around FBF, there was a little bit of getting lost. And a leisurely ride, took all day to do this. Stopped for lunch at the aviator place. A little sunburn on the calves but better now than in may or june when it would be a whole lot worse. A toast- to another good day on the bike.

hell, smell, corruption.

Don't you wish you could send this kind of letter sometimes?

Finally, please note for nonessential administrative actions for this account requiring my time and intervention:

I charge for my time, in the same way you charge 1.5% for delinquency fees. Since I am not authorized to charge rolling credit terms, as I'm sure you aren't either, this note serves as your official and legally binding notice that my time is henceforth after the time of this notice billable to you in hourly increments of $250 with a two-hour minimum. If I agree to accept late fees then you accept to pay to the order of me, administrative fees requiring nonessential action with my account. Since this is the first said action, and as it is also serving as your first and only notice, there will be no charges associated with it. However any future actions requiring my time regarding billing, rates, or delivery which turn out to be nonessential ("nonessential" defined as unfounded, incorrect, or that there is no physical danger to any persons involved) for my time and involvement as an administrative fee you will be charged $250 per hour with a two hour minimum. Again, this is the only notice you will receive about these charges.

Thanks,

random update: thar be ghostbusters

2:08pm, wednesday. two guys dressed like ghostbusters get out of a taxi at N. Moore and Varick with two other guys carrying cameras and tripods. chortling ensues.

not the only congealer...

5:35. waiting for the bus. 28°. I'm at the bus stop, but it stops 20' short. I get in the crowd, nearly last. a guy waves a woman in and says 'ladies first'. I'm last now, and when he looks at me and I say "it's all you, guy" and we all lump on the bus. The collection box is covered in a plastic bag; even the bus is having one hell of a Monday. This is the end of the verbatim part of the story.
Sat on the median, in the accordion seats. Feet aren't on the floor but I don't care, just want my book. It's been slow going lately; need to give it some love. The guy from the line wanders up and down the aisle a couple times, squeezes in next to me, all agitated and talking to himself. A little angry, he's cursing quietly but a lot. I asked him if he was OK. he shares his feelings about "these people" who look at him like he's going to bite. Maybe they're apprehensive because he's not well dressed, and on the large side (about 6'4" I guess). He's a little upset about it and starts getting a little more vocal, from polite conversation level to... well, audible.
I stop him there and tell him not to worry about it, and they're probably in their own worlds; in their heads they're still at work, or home with their kids and TVs already. They're not expecting someone to sit down next to them, that everyone wants to sit by themselves on the bus. He says he pays taxes and is entitled to ride the bus, that other people have no reason to shun him for looking for a seat. I bring up that everyone has problems they carry around and project around them, and we can't make a point of making all those problems our personal responsibility, because it's too much for anyone to bear. I say that if we're really lucky we solve a few of our own problems. Fixing everyone else's problems is like trying to drink the ocean.
He relaxes a bit and tells me that people's attitudes really affect him and goes on about how people are needlessly hard. I ask him if he's been in New York a long time, and he tells me he's been here his whole life, except for a long stretch of years he was in prison. I ask him if people were nice there and he said they were really scary. I jokingly said he should be used to people not being nice to him by now. But he was off again by this time- telling me about how he didn't do the crime, and the city recanted, 21 years too late and owed him a lot of money, like that makes up for his wasted years… he held out on a payment of $150K to try and collect $300K for wrongful imprisonment. The nearest seat behind the median opened up and he switched to take up more space, but continued. He was hoping to pay back his lawyer, the only one who never gave up on him. He told me he had a job at a tattoo parlor on st. marks pl., gave me a card and told me his name. All the while he was looking at a traffic cop who had gotten on the bus at 14th street. Looking, looking, looking and getting tense again. He did not take his eyes off that cop or relax until she went behind him and sat down, close to the rear door.
He shook my hand a couple of times even before I said I was getting off soon. He was glad to have met me because I helped him out and gave him some peace and helped him calm down. I told him I will probably never get a tattoo but probably know someone who does. He said that if I sent a friend he would remember how I was nice to him would give them a very good deal on a tattoo. He tells me he worked at my favorite bagel shop on earth for seven years when he was a kid, that he remembered the owner and how nice she was. I told him I was glad to have met him too and I hoped that everything worked out well for him- it was my stop. He thanked me again and shook my hand, and I got off the bus.