Where does the good go

Archive for April, 2011

Two minutes in Dawn Summers’ mind

Tuesday, April 19th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

Me: It’s not fair that $300 is a lot of money!

My last remaining sliver of rational responsible thought: It’s not fair, it just is.

Me: memememe

MLRSORRT: Real mature, Dawn. You’re poor. The sooner you accept it, the better off we’ll all be.

Me: I could put it on a credit card! This bill wouldn’t be due until like June! I find $300 extra dollars by June! What if the Rangers never make the playoffs ever again in my lifetime?

MLRSORRT: The Rangers are not going to let you live with them when Citibank forecloses on your apartment…right?

Me: Hmm…I dunno. I bet the European ones don’t even really use their New York apartment!

MLRSORRT: Or like one of the new ones from the Midwest! They probably don’t know anyone in the City and would love a roommate for the summer.

Me: Yes! That is perfect.

MLRSORRT: You’d be doing them a favor, really.

Me: I know! Good talk, good talk.

Conversation of the Day

Monday, April 18th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

I sucked Kearns into watching the Rangers game yesterday, somewhere in the middle of the last period when the Rangers finally had the lead again, after a crushing final minute in the second period which featured Satankin scoring off the King and a buzzer beating Rangers goal turning into a buzzer beaten goal, I said “Admit it, Kearns, hockey is waaay better than soccer.”

He replied: “Nope. Sorry. Tied with Golf though.”

I recounted this exchange to VinNay and he said:

Soccer is the worst. Stab him in the neck and then ask him again.

Conversation of the day

Friday, April 15th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

Me: Recite the alphabet backwards for me. #sobrietytests

Vinnay: Zyx somthin somthin cba

So…he’s either totally drunk or just doesn’t know. After the meet/meat incident, I can never be sure.

Playoff hockey is evil.

Wednesday, April 13th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

So…um…you remember Miss Havisham?

Yeah. That.

I’ll be sitting here in my Rangers snuggie staring at the blank TV screen for the next two days.

What the fuck is that?! One minute you’re sitting there all biting your nails and looking at the clock, the next second the coach is all walking back to the lockerroom and lights are flashing. Hell is the point of having a clock if the clock doesn’t even matter? NOTHING MATTERS! LA LA LA LA and then a sniper shoots you in the head.

You have no idea from which direction the end will come. Or when. It’s SICK, I TELL YA! SIIICKK!!!!!!

I’m convinced that there used to be tons of black hockey fans and players and then playoff hockey came around and they all succombed to stress induced heart ailments. Why are Vinny and Mark trying to kill me?


In the words of the immortal Phil Collins:

You know I love you, but I just can’t take this

*Puts chain on door*

*Unplugs TV*

She was probably watching that game too.

New Post

Wednesday, April 13th, 2011 by Dawn Summers


Alex is giving the Caps the finger.

Let’s Go Rangers!

Dear Dawn

Wednesday, April 13th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

Mustard is not a food group. Repeat. NOT.

Not so random question

Monday, April 11th, 2011 by Dawn Summers


He did call 2011

Sunday, April 10th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

Vinnay: Hope to meat you in the conference finals.

Me: Meat? Dude. I don’t think we can be friends anymore.


Saturday, April 9th, 2011 by Dawn Summers


I love this shot: Can you see the Patriots hoodie underneath?

I shoulda put on my Mets cap!

Oh, and turns out I was a totally good shut in. I was supposed to go to AC with Alceste and Mary, but got trapped at work till 10 pm Friday, then woke up Saturday with a wretched stomache. In retrospect, it was probably just nerves, cause as soon as Carolina bit the big one, I was dancing all around and feeling fine.

Have a great weekend

Friday, April 8th, 2011 by Dawn Summers

Another weekend of being a terrible shut in. Sorry couch, promise to do better next week!

Put my glasses on, I’m out the door – I’m gonna hit this city (Let’s go)
Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack
Cause when I leave for the night, I ain’t coming back
I’m talking – pedicure on our toes, toes
Trying on all our clothes, clothes
Boys blowing up our phones, phones
Drop-toping, playing our favorite cds
Pulling up to the parties
Trying to get a little bit tipsy