Where does the good go


I just made myself the best filet mignon ever. I had marinated one yesterday, while on the phone with Karol Sheinin, but I forgot all about it when I decided to make myself a delicious (and quicker) turkey cheese wrap for lunch. Anyway, when I got back from Scrabble club tonight, I was pretty hungry and I slapped that sucker in a pan. And ten minutes later, deee-licious-ness. I think I also figured out how “rare” meat was invented. Some guy came home from Scrabble club and was all starving and put his steak in the pan for five minutes, flipped it over when it got dark, waited another five minutes and then was “all, I’m hungry, get me a knife and fork.”
Oh, and completely unrelated, except insofar it involves the minutiae of my day, I went to Karol‘s brother’s house today to pick up her fat clothes. I highly recommend this exercise. You get to clean out your closets, tell funny stories about how you went to a sucky music festival and all you got was this T-shirt and you keep the clothes close enough so that should you want them back one day, they’ll be there. Except for my pants and purplely. YOU’RE NEVER GETTING PURPLELY BACK. I’m going to go lick it right now.
Hmm…that might have been too much information. I’m not really going to lick it. Okay, I am, but that’s the only thing. Well, and maybe the pants. Because they’re soft. But that’s it. I’m not licking any more secondhand clothes. Wait, is it weird to lick second-hand clothes? Is that not something that’s done? I mean I know everyone licks the regular clothes you get from stores and catalogs, but since I’m an only child, I don’t have any experience with second hand clothes. Oh, and all the clothes that I didn’t want, you know, stuff made out of courduroy, chainmail, or anything from her two-dollar whore phase, was packed off and sent to her family in Russia. After a while, I fasttracked this process my replying –in my best Vladimir Putin voice — “I vant to go to Russia. Kremlin nice” whenever she’d hold up some with “dress” that “would be fine” if I got “a little sweater.” Yah. “I vant to go to Russia.” HAHHAHA. I’m funny. OH and I got a whole drawer full of Republican-bent T-shirts which I plan to wear around local bowtie shops to lure out the New York Republicans! When they approach me in my hot “National Review Online shirt” and are all “hey, yeah, me too…I love them,” I’ll go “AHA! Gotcha!” and turn then in to the Obama people in times square for coupons. It’s gonna be Hawsome!
Oh, and I got rear ended by a taxi today on the way to Scrabble club. But since I was already late, I let it go. Of course, when a cab cut me off three blocks later, I was super pissed and ready to start dropping mad f-bombs (sorry, Andrew) but when I pulled up to the front of the cab, I saw a black woman behind the wheel and I um…mad the calculation that she could (and likely would) kick my ass.
I threw that story in so that you guys would forget the clothes licking. Did it work? Oh, good.
Pearatty is so going to ask if I’m on drugs again. I mean now. I’ve never been on drugs. Well, surgery drugs, but that was Carlos’ fault.
But yeah, rare steak. Yum.
(And yes, this is what it’s like inside my brain all the time, exhausting, right? And everybody wonders what I do all day. I live with me!)

6 Responses to “Yum”

  1. Karol Says:

    Dude. Are you high?

  2. Pearatty Says:

    Of course you lick the hand me downs. Gotta get your DNA markers on em.

  3. Karol Says:

    I want the purple suit back.

  4. Karol Says:

    I’ve decided I want the purple suit back.

  5. Pearatty Says:

    Sorry, once it’s licked, ownership has fully transferred. There’s a Geneva convention on this. Look it up.

  6. Dawn Summers Says:

    Yeah, what pearatty said.

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