Head Up. Eyes Open. Dine. 11.15.03

Apologies to J-Cap, A-a-Lice, and J’s birthday party; sorry to ButtaSammy for not checking out the DJ’s on East Broadway. I am tired, I need to collect some sleep. But here’s something I saw. I shouldn’t have laughed, but…

**INSENSITIVE SNICKER MOMENT**
Leaving the subway at 14th and 8th I happen upon a man looking at the ground; whatever he was looking at was obscured by turnstiles and a metal border grate. I stopped to see what he was looking at, because he looked appalled. I thought I’d see nudity.

Instead, there are two homeless men splayed out, swaddled in mangy clothes, dead asleep, each with a finished bottle of Georgi vodka just out of reach of their hands. It was like a cheap movie, a doctored photograph, and I caught myself kind of… giggling. Or snickering.

“What IS this?” the guy said, pulling his hat over his stringy black hair.
“Man, I just don’t know,” I replied, speeding out before compelled to laugh more. That’s rough and it’s cold but that is such a scene I expect to see at 2.45 AM on Skinemax.

** MOMENT OVER**

Dinner at Mirchi was good, once the almonds were removed from my dish; and Raycroft’s junior cousin Q was everything a teenager should be in the face of early 30-somethings (and this late 20-something), dismissive and sarcastic. Hey, I understand… we’re a little old to be exciting. Since they clamored for time,

Ruby: Why haven’t you written about us, Norman?
Nicky: Yeah, you didn’t mention my birthday party.

Well, Dame Ruby Curly Locks bounded into the place very red, and wearing a thermal which is an excellent fashion statement. She also asked me a question with a great interviewer’s voice and I found that very fun. Nicky Marie Super Smile sat across the table smiling and at times (as usual) deadpan. Her party, two months ago, it was tight and in a lounge that unfortunately exploded into toolish LI’ers. Nicky is also an OC watcher and we will have to enjoy Mischa and Peter “Eyebrow” Gallagher together at some point. Nice to meet you, James. “Brought together by Friendster” is excellent fortune.

The Looney Tunes movie was pretty decent. I finally found the song I’ve been hearing but have been unable to identify (it’s by Junior Senior). Joan Cusack and Heather Locklear shined as usual. In Arroz’ car, on the way home, we listened to Jay-Z’s Black Album. I would advise you to go out and buy it. If you want to hear Jay-Z introducing each track like it’s God’s gift to the earth (when it’s closer to the environmental value of plastic, as far as we know). If you want to hear strained beats and rap pomp. If you want to hear stale beats from the Neptunes and Eminem and a jack from Trick Daddy. If you want HOVA’s breathy vocals or you think he’s trying to seduce you over the telephone. If you want to hear Jay-Z say not only “I killed my dog, I crushed your cat” in a song, but have that song’s chorus be a perfectly sung “Justify My Thug,” buy this album now.

Yeah, but I’m not joking. Proving once again you can sell sh*t in sheep’s clothing.