Son of Your One True Love

[Whines]

CHARLIE TODD was passing out flyers at Astor Place yesterday that amended an earlier flyer he had handed out. "Did you get this before?" he asked a stranger. "It won't make sense without the earlier one." The flyers were about how oceans work.

ZACH TOBACCO is an angry poet who has a loving relationship with his parents. He can only rant about how record companies always pick his favorite song from the album to be a single so it gets overplayed. "Man that pisses me off," he said, but he said it in rhyme.

Communted to work with DOUG MOE and THE WORST EVER VERSION OF JESUS today. "Anyone want gum?" asked Doug. "How much you pay for that?" asked Jesus. "I don't know, maybe $1.50?" responded Doug. "Tch. You got ripped off," said Jesus. Doug looked at me and mouthed "Asshole" and I couldn't help but agree.

 

[Whines]

Bottled

KATE SPENCER asked THE MAYOR and myself to join her in creating a foundation devoted to collecting really cool stools from diners. "People will pay a lot for a cool diner stool," she explained. The mayor agreed on the condition that he could pick his own title: "I want to be 'The Vice-President.' The 'the' is part of it, " he specified. "You're already the mayor," Kate noted. "You're not double talking me out of this," he said. We all became millionaires.

TERRY JINN and PTOLEMY SLOCUM raced with me up and over the fence to leap into the tennis court, thus escaping the guard dogs. We would have made it faster but Terry wanted to tell me all about his recent research into his family tree. "It's fascinating, dude, my great-grandfather minted pennies!" he said. "That's great," I interrupted. "But do you have the transporter device?" Ptolemy wanted to go back for his bag of bubblegum, but I thought we had to make it to the base before dawn. We compromised and went to White Castle and bitched about PEOPLE WHO THINK THEY'RE JUST LIKE CHARLIE KAUFMAN.

Walking down Montross Avenue yesterday, MILLICENT CHO and I encountered PETE OLSEN in full scuba gear. We had the sense that we weren't supposed to point out his outfit so we just talked about baseball umpire regulations.

JAMIE RIVERA is awfully caught up in his British rock climbing lingo. "I sure would hate to be abseiling today," he said during lunch at Frank. I asked what he meant. "You Americans call it 'rapelling'," he clarified. "You are also American," I pointed out. He passed the salt and we agreed to disagree.

 

[Whines]

Newly Resolved

OWEN BURKE and I were trying to pick a video with a TIME LORD THAT JUST WANTED TO BE FRIENDS. "You guys seen War Games? War Games is awesome," said the Time Lord. Owen mumbled to me "Can't he ever pick something he hasn't seen?" Things warmed up when we all settled on The French Connection.

Last night at McManus, DAN GIBERMAN was in such a good mood that he just passed out ukeleles to everyones. It was nuts. About 15 of us ripped into a simplified version of "Brick House" by the Commodores when Dan upped the ante by joyfully listing every character to ever appear on I Love Lucy. We all partied until dawn.

A few nights ago while watching the New York Philharmonic perform "Flight of the Bumblebee," MICHAEL LEFFINGWELL challenged me to a game of jacks. "C'mon, sissy. Beat me in jacks," he said. I deferred, not so much because I was worried the orchestra would see but because Michael is pretty good at jacks and I didn't feel like losing. Instead I turned back to JOHN REYNOLDS who was writing a comic strip about frisbees who play frisbee.

 

[Whines]

Careful

LIZ BLACK, myself and A MAN STUCK IN HIS ANTIQUATED AND PATRICIAN WAYS were debating the finer points of preparing proper liner notes style for CDs. "You want SOME information on the band -- maybe their hometown and some photos -- but not so much as to remove all mystery," said Liz. I agreed heartily. "Though there's nothing more frustrating that no liner notes at all, unless you're The Knack" I observed. Liz agreed. The antiquated man tipped his hat.

FLYNN BARRISON is the most serious architect I know, except that he likes to be called "Mr. Chucklepuss." "Excellent use of natural space in the courtyard, Mr. Chucklepuss," said A BOARD OF COWERING UNDERLINGS.

Went to the movies with JUSTIN PURNELL and A GUY WHO LIKES TO MAKE JOKES AFTER EVERY PREVIEW. "Man on Fire? More like Man on Lame Movie!" he said at one point. "Mean Girls? More like Lame Girls!" he said at another. Justin distracted him after that by challenging his views on tariffs.

 

[Whines]

Eager

Man, oh man, did ANGELIKI GEORGE and I go nuts yesterday! We went to a newsstand and inserted bookmarks into issues of The Atlantic Monthly that talked trash about other stories in the same issue. "You like this essay on censorship, right? Good thing, because the review of Warren G. Harding's biography on page 80 totally sucks." Stuff like that. "Because of the Internet, hard-core pranks like this will soon be passe," Angeliki pointed out. "Scram, you kids!" screamed a CARTOONISHLY ANGRY BROOKLYNITE NEWSSTAND OWNER SMOKING A CIGAR.

Later, RISA SANG-URAI and I attended a screening of a non-religious version of Jesus Christ Superstar. In this version, they remove all references to whether Jesus was the son of God or not and just talk about his math skills. In the climactic scene, Judas tries to spill coffee on Christ's application to Brown. "It's not as good," said Risa.

Exhausted, I settled in to my usual booth with BRENDAN MCLOUGHLIN, MATT DEMBLOWSKI and CRAIG T. NELSON at the Soho Grand. We ordered a round of "slimming" ephedra shakes. "Before they get outlawed," said Craig, taking an enthusiastic gulp. "Whatever happened to the wife?" he asked Brenden. "I've never been married." Brenden replied. "Are you TIM ALLEN?" Craig asked Matt. Matt said no. Craig sighed. "I need to get my facts straight," said CRAIG T. NELSON.

 

[Whines]

Stuck

GAVIN SPEILLER and I were at an outside table at French Roast in our weekly race to build a house of 52 cards the most quickly. Suddenly, he loudly accused me of seizing farmland and conducting groundless mass arrests. We both knew this was actually something done by the Mexican government some years ago, but that didn't matter to the teems of reporters who swamped me with questions. As I deflected accusations, Gavin deftly topped off his house, winning again. That's 25 weeks in a row for you, GAVIN SPEILLER!

KATIE DIPPOLD is re-doing Ally McBeal as a Sousa march. "It's the best medium for self-aware lawyers," she says.

Went sunbathing with ROB LATHAN and TONY RANDALL yesterday. "Did I tell you guys about the time Jack Klugman beat the holy hell out of our cameraman during The Odd Couple pilot?" Tony asked. "Is that the one that ends up with you guys in Atlantic City smoking hash cigars?" I asked. "Yeah, yeah, that's it. Never mind," said Tony, glumly. We sat in silence as Rob finished his plate of pepperoni. "Um, 1969 sounds like it was fun," Rob offered. Tony made a "tch" sound and went back to reading Time Out.

 

[Whines]

Drooping

TONY CARNEVALE likes arriving at the movies 8 hours early. "You can't be too sure," he told me as we waited outside Lowe's at 4am for the noon showing of She's Out Of Control. "The day we don't do this is the day we get shut out of center seats." I ignored him and focused on our game of Pente.

SEAN HART's "Punch Me In The Face" Contests are still wildly profitable despite the obvious drawback for Sean. "The money is secondary. I love bringing people together," he said. He also hosts weekly sessions of playing the game Careers with orphans.

MAGGIE KEMPER nicknames her quarters. She names them after presidents. "Here's a Rutherford B. Hayes and a Truman for that bagel," she told me. I was running a bagel cart.

 

[Whines]

Re-energized

JEFF HILLER is still working on inhaling enough air to make himself float. "The laws of buoyancy insist this is possible," he said. He's also adopted a pet moth and tragically named it "Born To Live To Be 100."

FLOY BOSSINAS and I sat down for our semi-annual shrimp cocktail brunch at Iona when we accidentally created a marble of infinite weight. It ripped through the table, tore through the tile floor and then shot to the center of the Earth. "Goddamn it, " said Floy. "We're not going to be able to come back here." I tried to make light of the situation by finishing her crossword puzzle.

Not knowing what to do with a fine weekend afternoon, LENNON PARHAM and I went to the United Nations and moped and whined to the security guards until we were appointed a JOINT AMBASSADORSHIP TO WALES. It's a sweet gig. There isn't a lot to do and you get free pressed sandwiches and stamps. Just for fun, we increased the tax on CATHERINE ZETA-JONES. It's not really enforceable, but that's not our problem.

 

[Whines]

Well-rested

JEFF SCHERER is once again trying to nickname himself. "How about 'The clown prince of depraved alcoholism'?" he asked ZOOEY DESCHANEL and myself at The Luxx. "Are you a big drinker?" asked Zooey. "Not really," said Jeff. "It's kinda sad, too," I added. "Maybe I'll just go back to 'Zzzzax'" Jeff said. Zooey and I agreed,then ordered a round of mozzeralla sticks and made out.

RYAN ROGERS compulsively writes thank-you notes for thank-you notes. No problem, right? Not until he bought a goldfish bowl for the infinitely-polite DEAN CAIN who has the same obsession. Now they're trapped in a mirrors-reflecting-mirrors thing, and the world's paper supply will suffer. Goddamn DEAN CAIN!

 

[Whines]

Daunted

ZACH WOODS likes the sport of marbles, but only for the statistics. "Everyone focuses on the aggies, but statstically it's your second shot which makes all the difference," he said smugly. He's right, of course, not that it matters. I just play because he brings tastefully tart lemonade.

BEN RODGERS is relentlessly and inaccurately nostalgic about 1780s London. "Good day, old chap. Off to work on the Panama Canal?" he said to me as he passed myself and PAUL WESTERBERG in a skywalk in Minneapolis. "The Panama Canal was much later," said Westerberg. "Tally-ho, my good man, and how now!" said BEN RODGERS.

 

[Whines]

Trembly

CHARLIZE THERON, MIA STENDAHL and I met for minature golf on the roof of the old McGraw-Hill building. Charlize kept forcing in the topic of how her boyfriend was a "Phosphorous Guy." "It's pretty cool," she said. We didn't want to ask what that meant. That he was made of phosphorous? Or that he's an artist who works in the medium of phosphorous, like matchsticks and firefly butts? "When it comes to art, I prefer water colors," Mia piped in, hoping to change the subject, as she lined a putt for a birdie.

NATE SHELKEY divides his time between recoloring subway ads "so they match" and railing against the CULT OF THE SUPERANCHORPERSON. "That Peter Jennings is FULL of himself," he said. I then lent him my best royal blue Sharpie marker, which Nate liked so much that he adopted it as his son and threw it a party.

 

[Whines]

superbad

We were tearing through dimensions in search of the missing amulet, when JEN HAMMAKER told me of her dreams to be a transportation maven. "Trains, maybe," she said. "Or even just a huge fleet of boats. I mean, I know that land is the only financial certainty, but getting from place to place is always in fashion. Look at Rome." I had some issues with this, but the swarming poltergeists of limbo distracted me, and so I just nodded.

Was walking with MATT MOSES when we discovered that the earth was made of books. "Weird that we never noticed that," said Matt. I bent over and picked up a copy of Clan of the Cave Bear. "This movie sucked" I said to Matt, but he was already thumbing through Tommy Lee Jones' autobiography Maybe YOU'RE A Big Loser. Later, we had fried ice cream and espresso.

 

[Whines]

Vital

VIOLET KRUMBEIN, in her unicopter, circled around and demanded to know my middle name. "You could have just asked," I said. "Don't try and get out of this," she bellowed and started lobbing halfway-cooked potatoes at me lawn. Turns out she thought I was someone else. She apologized by giving me VHS copies of season one of Automan.

Dined with BIRCH HARMS honor of the 50,000th anniversary of the invention of the inclined plane. "Calling it a simple machine is really understating the matter. It's the basis for the screw AND the ramp. That shit is HOT," said Birch of the plane. "What about the wheel?" asked a passing DEMON MADE ONLY OF LIGHT AND TRUTH. A pause. "Yeah, I guess," said Birch. He only picked at his spring rolls after that.

 

[Whines]

Punchy

BOBBY MOYNIHAN greets people by giving them an extended massage of their elbow. "It should be creepy, but I just feel too relaxed to care," said a PASSING UNITED NATIONS DIPLOMAT in Bryant Park as Bobby and I were lunching on celery sticks and mulled cider. "You just have to focus on the other person," said Bobby.

Still losing lymph node contests to BOB ACEVEDO. You have to drink a liquid with thick viscosity, and then see whose lymph nodes can filter it first. Yesterday evening at the Tribeca Grand we each downed a half pint of Bosco and then sat down. "I think I'm done," Bob said after a while. "Damn!" I replied and paid up my five-spot. Fair's fair.

ADAM KOPPEL has moved to West Downtown, where the scientists tend to live. "The buildings look kinda crappy, but I like my proximity to bakeries," he said. And the scientists? Adam shrugged and replied "You don't bother them, they don't bother you." Hah. We'll see.

 

[Whines]

Enthralled

KATE EMSWILER is the master of rope tricks, though she prefers to use a strand of black thread for her rope. "Trust me, this little thing is whipping around in a perfect oval," she said last night in to a GROUP OF PEOPLE WHO MISS THE SHOW IT'S YOUR MOVE.

JACKSON BROWNE, WILL BECTON and I all wanted the seat under the map on the subway, so we played a quick game of freeze tag for it. JACKSON BROWNE was a coward -- he would never leave base. Will played generously, leaving base often, and ended up losing right before we reached 59th Street. "You do have the honor of playing nobly, Will," admitted JACKSON BROWNE.

The dawning sun rose up and made the desert sand look red like powdered brick. A SCALP HUNTER scurried across the expanse like a desperate insect. A GILA MONSTER, cheeks filled with poison, slinked onto a weathered rock and waited. GHOSTS OF BUFFALO WRONGFULLY KILLED whispered vengeful growls in the wind from the plains. Then JACKIE CLARKE walked by and asked if anyone had any gum. "Spearmint, preferably. But you know, whatever." A young America howled.

 

[Whines]

Swaggering

In the back of Galapagos Tuesday night, I discovered an entrance to an ancient Egyptian tomb next to the ice machine, along with JANE BORDEN. Jane is a total whore for hieroglyphic-inscribed urns. I accept that, but still, she wouldn't even let me touch the CASKET OF THE GIRL QUEEN for fear that I'd "break it." We also watched a few cool bands.

Went salsa dancing with AMY RHODES and THE NEW YORK KNICKS yesterday. "Allan Houston was a perfect gentleman," Amy swooned. Lenny Wilkens had sort of bullied me and stepped all over my Campers, but I didn't want to ruin Amy's mood.

DAVID MARTIN will now complete our morning run only when carrying a B-flat slide trombone. When we finish, he plays the opening bars to the THEME FROM SUPERMAN and pumps his fist into the air. Inwood, I assume you are not amused.

TARA QUINN has built stilts out of waffles. "I should probably use these quick," she realized, watching the syrup soak through them as I deftly defeated her in an intense round of Payday.

DAVID OGDEN STIERS is a complete cock.

 

[Whines]

Slugging

CHUCK SCARBOROUGH was being a real show-off yesterday when he, BRETT GELMAN, and I were doing our weekly ritual of practicing archery without bows. "This is archery with true honor," said Chuck as he hurled an arrow forward, somehow striking a perfect bulls-eye. "Just like playing darts in Giantland," he added in a pompous tone. Gelman and I couldn't even reach the target, but we did beat Scarborough handily in our "name more members of the Ramones" contest. Take that, CHUCK SCARBOROUGH!

KIRK DAMATO has returned to robbing trains except now he will plunder only board games. 'Lots of Travel Boggle,' he said as he returned to the apartment last night. Whatever, Kirk, will you chip in for HBO now?

SHITTY BUDDHA and I are still having trouble writing our novel. "Maybe the guy should be more mad," he suggested, rolling his eyes as he said it because he knew it was a stupid idea. He lit up a Parliament and we talked about The Godfather. Then we got tired and went to McKarren Park where we ate granola with yogurt and played tag.

Nestled in the basket of a hot air balloon, ANTHONY ATAMANUIK floated down from the sky to right outside my window and asked for change for a twenty. "A ten, a five and five ones would be best, but I'd settle for fives," he said. I gave him three fives and a roll of quarters and returned his copy of Van Halen's 1984.

 

[Whines]

Tiny and Flat

BETSY TODD is writing a history of the color red. "There's not that much to it," she admits. "But I gots to justify my $50,000 advance!" Then she clicked her diamond heels and lumbered into her car made of panda.

"Hey," said RYAN ROGERS. "Hey. You gonna eat that?" He was talking about my leftover Swanson's TV dinner Salisbury steak. "No," I said. "Take it if you want." He took it and dropped it through a space-time wormhole where it fell into a DIMENSION PREVIOUSLY UNSCATHED BY ENVY where the presence of a piece of Salisbury steak soon caused a civilzation-ending war. I feel responsible, but Ryan told me to chill out and we played tether ball.

ERIC BERNAT came to my soccer match to watch, but he was wearing his jacket made out of faces. "Good block!" he shouted as his right-hand pocket grimaced. "Thank you!" I said. I should have been grossed out but was more distracted by this FIFTH GRADE KID WHO KEPT TURNING HIS EYELIDS INSIDE OUT who was seated near Eric in the stands.

Sipped White Russians with JOHN GEMBERLING and a FAT FUTURE ASHTON KUTCHNER. Kutchner was depressed. "No one is really paying attention to me anymore," he complained. "Why don't you take a long walk off of a short pier, buddy?" said Gemberling. Kutchner, possessing a poor sense of recognizing colorful phrases took him literally and drowned.

 

[Whines]

Muggy

BRIAN FINKELSTEIN decided he would openly declare all of his favorite words. "Tranquil, carribean, bookbinding, snookered," he said. "And vermillion." Then a long pause. "Hedgomony. Woolgathering." Then a much longer pause. "That's it."

"With this switch," said the CARTOONISHLY EVIL SCIENTIST, "I will re-organize the history of time and space to leave me as Ultimate Ruler. You won't even know that it's happened." Bound to our platforms, ERIC SCOTT, CHARLES GRODIN and I shrugged and resigned ourselves to our fate. The lever was yanked. We found ourselves back in our bachelor pad, and the only thing that seemed to be different was ELTON JOHN had never used the word "sugarbear" in Someone Saved My Life Tonight. "I like it better this way," said ERIC SCOTT. CHARLES GRODIN finished the sack of Chewy Chips Ahoy.

I was awoken today by MOHAMED FATHELBAB, who wanted to give me an ENORMOUS FIRE ANT. "It's real friendly," he said. "Easy to feed." "What does he eat?" I asked. "Other ants. Bread," said Mo. I took the ant, but only because I had a MINATURE PLAYGOUND on my living room table that I needed someone to play in. "Hooray!" said the ENORMOUS FIRE ANT.

 

[Whines]

Poised

AMANDA ALLEN and I, fed up with our city's apathy, re-paved Lorimer Street in Brooklyn this morning. "Enough whining. We're solving this problem ourselves," she declared. We blocked traffic and laid down a new layer of blacktop in about five hours. Turns out it's highly illegal to do that, and we were put in jail. Especially when it was discovered we made our tar out of the hair of live, cute orphans.

The coffee drinking has gotten out of hand. JOEY CATZ and I vowed to clean up our act, and de-toxed by drinking only orange juice and also bathing in a natural hot spring. But the content of the particular natural hot spring we chose? Pure liquid heroin. "Of all the stupid luck!" said Joey as we nodded off into a 14-hour dream of pillows made out of sunbeams.

DAN GOLDSTEIN has perfect pitch, but only for the tone of G. "After this, you're on your own," he warned as he helped me tune one string on my guitar.

WILL MCLAUGHLIN insists that the Supreme Court has been "leaving out a justice" lately. "What do you mean?" asked a NEARBY PERSNICKETY TURTLE. "I just read the roll call of their last session, and I feel like there's supposed to be one more of them." I took one of Will's ginger cookies and asked for the check. "Helen Meyer? Is that one?" asked Will. "No!" exclaimed the turtle, who then put on his spectacles, climbed into his wind machine and flew away.