New York recently finished it's Pride week, and it was at this time that I made a revelation about the city and the men it has to offer. In general, NYC has a plethora of stupidly attractive people (why do you think I moved here, DUH!). At the other end of the spectrum, or sewer depending on where you are in said spectrum, are the depressing ugly; people so abusive to the eyes that they literally must be classified as mutants. Why just today I saw a woman who had the most severe DBS I had ever seen. For those not in the know about this incurable disease, DBS stands for droopy boob syndrome. I would compare her boobs to a fruitcake, but that would be giving her too much credit. I was literally ready to peel her skin off and make a human pizza dough.
Now as any good Gay knows, we don't do anything half-assed. Drag queens don't dress as women to keep people guessing. We certainly don't have dinner parties without having any possible mishap covered and well prepared for. We don't gossip to just one person because...well where is the fun in that?
It was on my way to a restaurant I'll be waiting at that I realized how unprepared I even was to see NYC gay. Now I had seen a lot of really attractive men since I've been here, but nothing more exotic or rare than what I had seen in Boston.
So here I am, bright eyed and bushy tailed for an adventure in the west village....oh did I forget to mention that the restaurant is in the Gay epicenter of the Gay universe...and I start seeing all these colorful people getting on the A train (for more on the A train, look at my previous post)
Now I know that I was a bad gay for not doing anything for pride, but I just moved here and stop judging me! I'll admit, I kind of forgot that it was the last day of pride as I made my way to the west village. The first wave of people where your standard Pride Lesbian. Lot's of rainbow articles of clothing (gay men know better and just dress slutty), all of them with their "U-hauled" partner of the week, and lots of short haircuts.
The second wave was about as equally unsurprising. Your standard Chicken hawk flock(1. Older male who seeks the company or favours of an younger male. The term has homosexual overtones / urban dictionary.) usually two to three 30/40 somethings looking and commenting on barely legal boys who are probably not even gay. I say 30/40 somethings because they use tanning beds so mush that they have developed this new type of skin, called scales, where it because exponentially harder to differentiate the age brackets. The standard garb hardly varied, having different monotone shades of the same deep V that they tell their friends is American Apparel but is actually off the shelves of TJ Maxx, a pair of super tight jeans, and rainbow brand flip-flops.
The third wave was when I realized I was in for an abasement that will surely push me into anorexia....OK I like food too much so some other controlling form of self deprecation. Let me tell you, these Gays were like those rare breed of frogs that you read about on Yahoo (THE ONLY RELIABLE NEWS SOURCE! SORRY FOX, BUT YOU DON"T CONSTANTLY TELL ME WHAT MISTAKES I MAKE IN JOB INTERVIEWS AND STRAIGHT RELATIONSHIPS! I NEED TO KNOW!)
Colorful wouldn't be a justifiable term, because these gays exceeded the normal color palette. I needed one of those new Sony TVs that adds yellow for more color possibilities in order to fully experience the glamor that these gays presented. Some of them had blond fauxhawks with purple high tops a tank and some super cut-off jeans. Others were basically shirtless and should have had even less clothing. I was ashamed to be on such an unabashedly attractive train car. They knew they were hawt and were def gonna hook up wit sum trix 2nght!
At 14th street, I ran out of the train for two reasons. The first was I knew that if one of the alpha gays saw me they would send a hunting party out to eat a poor excuse for an NYC gay. The other was that I knew I would get distracted and had to get to that job interview!
Just steps away from the restaurant, I see a literal see of gay. Men making out and eating hot dogs....real hot dogs....no the other kind of hot.....oh you know I mean the food....the EDIBLE food! On closer examination, I realized that the Gaymazons I had seen on the train were the Alpha pack. I suddenly began feeling more at ease, seeing all shapes and sizes of Gay covering Horatio St. Bald queens were taking photos with beefy guys dressed only in their revealing underwear, nerdy gays were with their "I was a lesbian in high school so I understand you" friends, and normal gays who just happen to be guys.....read it....I meant it.
I ended up only spending an hour at the restaurant because it was too busy and they had too many gays to take care of to have someone train me. Gays are like babies when it comes to service and this place became a daycare center. I discovered later that the drink of choice was Prosecco and diet coke.....ewwww gays, I'm ashamed.
In short, though my posts never are, I learned an important lesson. NYC is a good place to be gay, if for nothing more than the people watching.....think of it like a Zoo except all of the animals are gay and not just the polar bears and penguins.
LOVE AND STRUGGS
B DANN
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Dear adventures in Struggleland or how I spent 17 hours trying to get Apple's new holy grail
Sorry for the wait. I have to give myself a couple of days to recuperate from the debauchery that was the iPhone 4 launch. Let me start by saying that I have a strong appreciation for Apple. Maybe it is because they provided me with paychecks. Or maybe it's because I want to check my Facebook no matter where I am. It could even be that Aliens owned by Disney (in turn owned by steve jobs) came into my home and implanted a brain chip into my.....brain.....that would only allow me to think extremely positive things about apple.
Also, having worked for Apple retail, I though I had a pretty close grasp on what the situation would be like on launch day. You know, presidents kissing babies, awesome strippers dancing on the glass front.....wait I mean lines of about 2-3 hours and tons of Apple specialists being really excited that we are getting phones before them.......my mind wondered. Maybe it's the chip.
So I decided Wednesday to go back to Connecticut, which if you haven't been there.....don't. It's nicknamed Newyorkachusetts for a reason. I'm from there, struggles aside, and thought it would be cool for me and my mom to get iphones on launch day. WOOF. BAD IDEA. Instead of actually recounting the drudgeries of how big a struggle it was waiting in line for 17 HOURS, I decided to make this post a literary enterprise to lighten the mood. Think the Canterbury Tales, but in a mall....and gay.
-----
Enter the Knight (that's me because OBVI!) and his loving mother (I didn't want to give my mom an outlandish character because everyone else I'm writing about that has a character will be written about offensively...and I love my mama so back yourself up!)
Along the engorged path (hahahaha), he sees not a bit of grass. Only the peons and their empty hearts standing in trenches, waiting for what was thought to be the next HOLY GRAIL. HOLY GRAIL 2!
Finally, after what seemed like 7 Cher years (25 in real years), he happened upon a lowly group of individuals who hadn't made Holy Grail reservations either because the server was down. There was the toothless whore with a heart of gold. She informed everyone in the trenches that she indeed had 14 children. Not all of them were birthed from her giving womb, for not even she could create so much life. She did have many words of wisdom throughout the journey, though only wise to her. The smallest child, one not from her most glorious and toothless uterus, was by her side. Accompanying her was her bar wench. Apparently, she had just returned from the physician where she was partaking in the Test of Stress. Perhaps an inopportune time to be in the trenches the knight thought.
A little further in front of the Knight was a respected tooth doctor surrounded by three Danish children that were quite possibly hers. The knight had been suffering from ghost pains in his jaw (GAY JOKES ASIDE) and requested the Doctor give him advice. Telling him nothing he hadn't heard from obviously more qualified Doctors, she soon informed the party that she had house guests to accommodate and "just simply had to leave".
Others followed suite and it was here that things got interesting. First, the Knight was offered many food and beverages from blue clad clergyman coming from the temple. Although the Knight was happy to be satiated, it seemed odd that these men and women weren't helping people get to the grail.
After several hours of what seemed like nothingness, the Knight veered around a corner and happened upon a new group of travelers. He, the toothless whore and her cohorts (who had miraculously grown by two more members) encountered a weary bunch. There was the baker who seemed nothing short of ashamed that we was indeed a baker. The Knight assumed he was a closeted "gentle" man, and the Knight was very rarely wrong about those things. Then there was the asian apprentice....and apprentice to all things because she knew very little. The knight also thought it strange how much she slept while in the trenches. "Disgusting", he thought.
Not too far beyond them were the sister queens and the mad Cowwoman. The sister queens were not actually sisters or queens in fact. But they carried a portable throne, and soon realized a throne shared is better than no throne at all. The blond one was ugly. Their Cowwoman had the legs of a cow and the torso of an obliterating woman who would soon become an important player in our story.
Of course no party would be complete without the blundering barbarian. Simpleton he was, though he carried a magical box that showed him images of the future. The Knight thought it a tragedy that such a hole-creature could harness such a wonderful device.
And then there was the jester. The Knight didn't necessarily appreciate the touchy humor that the Jester had, but he appreciated his company nonetheless. However, as the quest continued and trenches turned into fields, the Jester showed his true colors. Almost out of nowhere, the Jester remembered that he had indeed reserved a HOLY GRAIL 2! He promptly situated himself in the new line, and waited for his chance to see the grail. Cowwoman decided it was her chance to moo-ve and quickly....well quickly as she could, trembled her way to the HIGH PRIESTESS.
The Knight saw the transaction unfold, and decided the the high priestess' claps had become offensive and antagonizing from how long the wait had become. He did admire that way she handled the Jester though, making him get back in his proper place. Although the two queens and Cowwoman weren't pleased enough, the Knight knew justice had been served. He knew it would be a long time before more jokes were made by this Jester.
Finally, after what seemed like eons of waiting, the knight and his mother had made it to the Temple! Both eager to throw their old grails away, the two joined in harmonious song rejoicing the much better HOLY GRAIL 2!
-----
Just a frame of reference, we got there at 6:30am and left at 11:00pm.....and people started smelling the last 3 hours. Here's a video of me just after we leave the store. I will never wait for anything that long again in my life....that's what she said.
LOVE AND STRUGGS
B DANN
Also, having worked for Apple retail, I though I had a pretty close grasp on what the situation would be like on launch day. You know, presidents kissing babies, awesome strippers dancing on the glass front.....wait I mean lines of about 2-3 hours and tons of Apple specialists being really excited that we are getting phones before them.......my mind wondered. Maybe it's the chip.
So I decided Wednesday to go back to Connecticut, which if you haven't been there.....don't. It's nicknamed Newyorkachusetts for a reason. I'm from there, struggles aside, and thought it would be cool for me and my mom to get iphones on launch day. WOOF. BAD IDEA. Instead of actually recounting the drudgeries of how big a struggle it was waiting in line for 17 HOURS, I decided to make this post a literary enterprise to lighten the mood. Think the Canterbury Tales, but in a mall....and gay.
-----
Enter the Knight (that's me because OBVI!) and his loving mother (I didn't want to give my mom an outlandish character because everyone else I'm writing about that has a character will be written about offensively...and I love my mama so back yourself up!)
Along the engorged path (hahahaha), he sees not a bit of grass. Only the peons and their empty hearts standing in trenches, waiting for what was thought to be the next HOLY GRAIL. HOLY GRAIL 2!
Finally, after what seemed like 7 Cher years (25 in real years), he happened upon a lowly group of individuals who hadn't made Holy Grail reservations either because the server was down. There was the toothless whore with a heart of gold. She informed everyone in the trenches that she indeed had 14 children. Not all of them were birthed from her giving womb, for not even she could create so much life. She did have many words of wisdom throughout the journey, though only wise to her. The smallest child, one not from her most glorious and toothless uterus, was by her side. Accompanying her was her bar wench. Apparently, she had just returned from the physician where she was partaking in the Test of Stress. Perhaps an inopportune time to be in the trenches the knight thought.
A little further in front of the Knight was a respected tooth doctor surrounded by three Danish children that were quite possibly hers. The knight had been suffering from ghost pains in his jaw (GAY JOKES ASIDE) and requested the Doctor give him advice. Telling him nothing he hadn't heard from obviously more qualified Doctors, she soon informed the party that she had house guests to accommodate and "just simply had to leave".
Others followed suite and it was here that things got interesting. First, the Knight was offered many food and beverages from blue clad clergyman coming from the temple. Although the Knight was happy to be satiated, it seemed odd that these men and women weren't helping people get to the grail.
After several hours of what seemed like nothingness, the Knight veered around a corner and happened upon a new group of travelers. He, the toothless whore and her cohorts (who had miraculously grown by two more members) encountered a weary bunch. There was the baker who seemed nothing short of ashamed that we was indeed a baker. The Knight assumed he was a closeted "gentle" man, and the Knight was very rarely wrong about those things. Then there was the asian apprentice....and apprentice to all things because she knew very little. The knight also thought it strange how much she slept while in the trenches. "Disgusting", he thought.
Not too far beyond them were the sister queens and the mad Cowwoman. The sister queens were not actually sisters or queens in fact. But they carried a portable throne, and soon realized a throne shared is better than no throne at all. The blond one was ugly. Their Cowwoman had the legs of a cow and the torso of an obliterating woman who would soon become an important player in our story.
Of course no party would be complete without the blundering barbarian. Simpleton he was, though he carried a magical box that showed him images of the future. The Knight thought it a tragedy that such a hole-creature could harness such a wonderful device.
And then there was the jester. The Knight didn't necessarily appreciate the touchy humor that the Jester had, but he appreciated his company nonetheless. However, as the quest continued and trenches turned into fields, the Jester showed his true colors. Almost out of nowhere, the Jester remembered that he had indeed reserved a HOLY GRAIL 2! He promptly situated himself in the new line, and waited for his chance to see the grail. Cowwoman decided it was her chance to moo-ve and quickly....well quickly as she could, trembled her way to the HIGH PRIESTESS.
The Knight saw the transaction unfold, and decided the the high priestess' claps had become offensive and antagonizing from how long the wait had become. He did admire that way she handled the Jester though, making him get back in his proper place. Although the two queens and Cowwoman weren't pleased enough, the Knight knew justice had been served. He knew it would be a long time before more jokes were made by this Jester.
Finally, after what seemed like eons of waiting, the knight and his mother had made it to the Temple! Both eager to throw their old grails away, the two joined in harmonious song rejoicing the much better HOLY GRAIL 2!
-----
Just a frame of reference, we got there at 6:30am and left at 11:00pm.....and people started smelling the last 3 hours. Here's a video of me just after we leave the store. I will never wait for anything that long again in my life....that's what she said.
LOVE AND STRUGGS
B DANN
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Dear Cover Letters - AKA how to stand out like Nomi Malone
In my first week, I've come to terms with the fact that New York moves a lot faster than any other city.... A LOT. I'm working at the Apple store on the Upper West Side, but in my time before I start working, I have been applying to theater internships and directing gigs. One gig in particular was an assistant position with NYMF (I though dirty things when I first saw this acronym). I knew that I was more than qualified for the position, and made a kick ass cover letter/resume combo. Now I saw this posting maybe 3 days after it had been posted on Playbill.com. I emailed the director, filled with soon to be bitter pride in my gut, and waited patiently for a response. I did not need to wait that long though. Within five minutes of me sending the email, I got this response-
"Brian,
Thanks for sending me your information. Unfortunately the position has been filled. Best of luck on your upcoming projects.
Regards,
Director X"
WOOOOF. Srsly? To top it off, I had just finished reading a yahoo article (the only place I get my news source....) about writing standout cover letters to set yourself from the pack.
Now a sexy CL would not have gotten me this job because I was as late as half the girls I went to high school with.....but with this information in hand I knew that devising the perfect formula would be necessary for the rest of my life!!!!
It was at this time that I went to the movies for inspiration. The good guys not only always know what to do, but they do it with style and pizzaz. Bruce Willis knows how to make saving a building form Alan Rickman seem way harder than it is, and I was not about to be upstaged by someone who was dumped for Assface Cooter (Ashton Kutcher for those of you that don't "get it"....ugh)
I went to the one person I knew wouldn't let me down. Elizabeth Berkley.
I KNOW that we all remember that episode of "Saved by the Bell" where she gets crack addicted to caffeine pills and "just can't stop!". What vigor! What COMMITMENT! She knew how to make something as sophomoric an addiction to caffeine seem like she was on heroin and couldn't figure out how to feed her baby....."cuz we're smoking rocks now, I ain't gotta a job now, cuz for you this is just a good time, but for me this is what I call life....mmhmm".
And that's when I realized what needed to be my true inspiration. SHOWGIRLS. If you haven't seen this EPIC MASTERPIECE, you now have two options. Stop reading this post and watch the movie. If you don't like/don't want to see the movie then-
Stop reading because you don't deserve that right. There are zombie babies in Africa starving for your brain power. Use it don't abuse it....here is a youtube clip of the masterpiece just to give you a taste.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OW3ZmnvKu2Y&feature=related
YOU ENJOYED IT!
Watching this angel's footsteps made me realize that my cover letter had to do a couple of things...at least metaphorically.
-It had to dancefuck the resume reader's eyes and emotions under a waterfall...and horizontally.
-My cover letter had to "push" the other cover letters down a flight of stairs thus ending any chance they had to be the next Crystal Connors
-The cover letter had to have enough poise and determination to withstand the lesbian advances of said Crystal Conners
-If necessary, it would eat a lot of chips and hamburgers throughout it's life
-And it's name would be Polly Anna
So for all of you who are wondering what the real secret is to landing that next job, look no further. You have found your grail.
Thank you Nomi. We'll miss you.
LOVE AND STRUGGS
B DANN
PS-Andy Cohen, I'm still waiting for a job offer.
"Brian,
Thanks for sending me your information. Unfortunately the position has been filled. Best of luck on your upcoming projects.
Regards,
Director X"
WOOOOF. Srsly? To top it off, I had just finished reading a yahoo article (the only place I get my news source....) about writing standout cover letters to set yourself from the pack.
Now a sexy CL would not have gotten me this job because I was as late as half the girls I went to high school with.....but with this information in hand I knew that devising the perfect formula would be necessary for the rest of my life!!!!
It was at this time that I went to the movies for inspiration. The good guys not only always know what to do, but they do it with style and pizzaz. Bruce Willis knows how to make saving a building form Alan Rickman seem way harder than it is, and I was not about to be upstaged by someone who was dumped for Assface Cooter (Ashton Kutcher for those of you that don't "get it"....ugh)
I went to the one person I knew wouldn't let me down. Elizabeth Berkley.
I KNOW that we all remember that episode of "Saved by the Bell" where she gets crack addicted to caffeine pills and "just can't stop!". What vigor! What COMMITMENT! She knew how to make something as sophomoric an addiction to caffeine seem like she was on heroin and couldn't figure out how to feed her baby....."cuz we're smoking rocks now, I ain't gotta a job now, cuz for you this is just a good time, but for me this is what I call life....mmhmm".
And that's when I realized what needed to be my true inspiration. SHOWGIRLS. If you haven't seen this EPIC MASTERPIECE, you now have two options. Stop reading this post and watch the movie. If you don't like/don't want to see the movie then-
Stop reading because you don't deserve that right. There are zombie babies in Africa starving for your brain power. Use it don't abuse it....here is a youtube clip of the masterpiece just to give you a taste.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OW3ZmnvKu2Y&feature=related
YOU ENJOYED IT!
Watching this angel's footsteps made me realize that my cover letter had to do a couple of things...at least metaphorically.
-It had to dancefuck the resume reader's eyes and emotions under a waterfall...and horizontally.
-My cover letter had to "push" the other cover letters down a flight of stairs thus ending any chance they had to be the next Crystal Connors
-The cover letter had to have enough poise and determination to withstand the lesbian advances of said Crystal Conners
-If necessary, it would eat a lot of chips and hamburgers throughout it's life
-And it's name would be Polly Anna
So for all of you who are wondering what the real secret is to landing that next job, look no further. You have found your grail.
Thank you Nomi. We'll miss you.
LOVE AND STRUGGS
B DANN
PS-Andy Cohen, I'm still waiting for a job offer.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Dear A Train - I'm renaming you America's Got Talent
Perhaps June is the Subway Series.
Just over a week in New York and I think I'm starting to recognize the idiosyncrasies of each and every one of the "amazing" trains NYC has to offer. Yet in particular, the A train seems to be grabbing hold of my heart in a way that only someone like Linda Eder could even fathom doing. Why this very morning it sang sweet hints of "someone like you", and then abruptly switched to her invigorating rendition of "Man of La Mancha"! - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ynrky_iw6Q ......listen for her whistle tones starting @ 2:08......gaysym.
.....I'm obviously not serious. Although the A train has shown me a deluge of performers, they are mostly worthy of being kicked off of America's got talent. What I mean by this is that they are enough of a train wreck (excuse the awkward pun) that they are entertaining in their blundering attempt to have actual talent. Let me take you the my A train journey.
Performer 1 - Pan flutist....accompanying himself on the sitar....playing the sound of silence.......flat and with no tempo. He would have gotten at least 2 exes from the judges.
Performer 2 - A Mexican man with a face that resembles what it feels like when passing spicy poop, playing guitar and singing Mexican standards. My problem wasn't so much that he was bad, but more so that he was morbidly ugly. I'm pretty sure they have treatment for that. It's called staying in your hole, mutant.
Performers 3/4 - Please refer to http://getitnyc.blogspot.com/2010/06/dear-train-gremlins-dont-stop-believing.html
Performer 5 - OK so just imagine a group of semi attractive white guys getting into the train. Everything seems normal, they are laughing and having jovial times, when out of nowhere one of them splits from the group and starts "announcing" aka "verbally masturbating " that they are a christian group and will be singing some spiritual songs to help raise money for martian babies or something equally as irreverent. What I expected was not what came out...well...almost. When I see a group like these gentleman, I think of a group like Rockapella in that they can sing really well but understand their own limitations.....OK maybe not a good example because those guys don't have any limitations. Basically they sang gospel songs and tried to sound less white. It was a struggle. They attempted harmony. That's almost as funny as me "attempting" women.
Performer 6 - Performer 6 has a special place in my heart. He was a little old and wrinkled man who carried an ancient keyboard wrapped and held together with equally old duct tape. He was making up songs on the spot, which definitely would have gotten my vote. Here are some of my favorites.
"Ain't not joke, I'm just broke, don't give a poke, just help a folk"
And my favorite
"I'm so broke that I had to put a cheeseburger on layaway at McDonald's!"
Performer 7 - I knew that this guy was going to be different. First off, he wasn't actually on the A train, but rather on the platform. He also had a whole sound system with him. Let me tell you, this guy had crazy in his eyes, like "Ima wear your skin!" kind of eyes. He was however, a brilliant singer. He sounded like a young Ray Charles with a little more oomph in his upper register. He definitely would have been the next Susan Boyle (wrong show?)
Next time you're in NYC, make a trip to the A train. I can't promise that you'll see a performer........I was thinking of a retort but I'm not good at those.
LOVE AND STRUGGS
B DANN
Just over a week in New York and I think I'm starting to recognize the idiosyncrasies of each and every one of the "amazing" trains NYC has to offer. Yet in particular, the A train seems to be grabbing hold of my heart in a way that only someone like Linda Eder could even fathom doing. Why this very morning it sang sweet hints of "someone like you", and then abruptly switched to her invigorating rendition of "Man of La Mancha"! - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ynrky_iw6Q ......listen for her whistle tones starting @ 2:08......gaysym.
.....I'm obviously not serious. Although the A train has shown me a deluge of performers, they are mostly worthy of being kicked off of America's got talent. What I mean by this is that they are enough of a train wreck (excuse the awkward pun) that they are entertaining in their blundering attempt to have actual talent. Let me take you the my A train journey.
Performer 1 - Pan flutist....accompanying himself on the sitar....playing the sound of silence.......flat and with no tempo. He would have gotten at least 2 exes from the judges.
Performer 2 - A Mexican man with a face that resembles what it feels like when passing spicy poop, playing guitar and singing Mexican standards. My problem wasn't so much that he was bad, but more so that he was morbidly ugly. I'm pretty sure they have treatment for that. It's called staying in your hole, mutant.
Performers 3/4 - Please refer to http://getitnyc.blogspot.com/2010/06/dear-train-gremlins-dont-stop-believing.html
Performer 5 - OK so just imagine a group of semi attractive white guys getting into the train. Everything seems normal, they are laughing and having jovial times, when out of nowhere one of them splits from the group and starts "announcing" aka "verbally masturbating " that they are a christian group and will be singing some spiritual songs to help raise money for martian babies or something equally as irreverent. What I expected was not what came out...well...almost. When I see a group like these gentleman, I think of a group like Rockapella in that they can sing really well but understand their own limitations.....OK maybe not a good example because those guys don't have any limitations. Basically they sang gospel songs and tried to sound less white. It was a struggle. They attempted harmony. That's almost as funny as me "attempting" women.
Performer 6 - Performer 6 has a special place in my heart. He was a little old and wrinkled man who carried an ancient keyboard wrapped and held together with equally old duct tape. He was making up songs on the spot, which definitely would have gotten my vote. Here are some of my favorites.
"Ain't not joke, I'm just broke, don't give a poke, just help a folk"
And my favorite
"I'm so broke that I had to put a cheeseburger on layaway at McDonald's!"
Performer 7 - I knew that this guy was going to be different. First off, he wasn't actually on the A train, but rather on the platform. He also had a whole sound system with him. Let me tell you, this guy had crazy in his eyes, like "Ima wear your skin!" kind of eyes. He was however, a brilliant singer. He sounded like a young Ray Charles with a little more oomph in his upper register. He definitely would have been the next Susan Boyle (wrong show?)
Next time you're in NYC, make a trip to the A train. I can't promise that you'll see a performer........I was thinking of a retort but I'm not good at those.
LOVE AND STRUGGS
B DANN
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Dear Train Gremlins - Don't stop believing!!!
This post is about the people that I have categorized as "train gremlins". What makes a train gremlin you ask? Let's define it.
train gremlin - (n) a person who either from circumstance or disposition cannot function in normal society, but seem to fit in just fine while in riding the New York Subway System.
Now I have seen a lot of train gremlins in the past week, but only a few that are really worth writing about. I will warn you, two of the four gremlins were "performers", so I apologize for anyone that might be offended.
Let's call the first one Creeper. So creeper was listening to some tunes, had an I heart NY shirt on, and looked like a 2-shower a week hipster, just enough to not have stink-dick in the case of emergency sex. He could have been attractive if he wasn't singing severely out of tune and making really weird faces at everyone he saw. He did have one redeeming quality with an immediate reaction to anyone who needed help i.e. he helped a blind man find stairs (we'll never know if he made it to where he was going though) and helped a girl who literally had four suitcases take them off the train. Unfortunately, he was literally staring down every girl's shirt who was in his vicinity.
Next would be Homeless Harry. Harry was a generic homeless guy in almost every way; he had covered himself in one of those grayish blankets, had a mile long mustache that moved on its own fruition, what I'm assuming was a dead cat in a black plastic bag, and the kind of eyes any good schizophrenic homeless guy would have. What made him an oddity was the NINTENDO DS that he pulled out of his pocket!!! This dichotomy was extremely disconcerting to me, but no one else on the entire train car noticed. He was using a stylus made from a twig that I'm sure he whittled using the knife he hides in his butt for emergency shanking....
Then there was Superstar. Superstar kind of came out of nowhere, in that he started off as just a normal weirdo who was signing to himself quietly. Then with out warning, he broke out into full performance mode, starting with unsupported whistle tones and then leading into the verse which the sonic quality could be equated to a bear rapping a cow. This thankfully was noticed by the entirety of the train, so I didn't feel alone on this one. Just when I thought that he couldn't get any more odd, he stood up and started dancing around as if he was in a music video.....he brushed his shoulders off. The only thing that made it better was the horde of five year old girls (who by the way were wearing awesome princess tiaras and outfits!) that were laughing hysterically at the man. I'm still waiting for his record deal.
Lastly....but certainly not least, would be Asian Pirate. Let me set the stage for you. I had just gotten on the train with my friend Katherine when I spotted a real find across the way. An Asian man,wearing a coat that had jack sparrow level cuffs and leather seams where the buttons were. He was also dead.
OK he wasn't dead but I was pretty sure he was for the 3 minutes that he lay motionless on the seat with his eyes rolling back into his head. What happened next is not for the faint of heart.
Just when I was convinced that his last days on the train were coming to an end, he jerks up and bends over himself to prepare for something that I think everyone can imagine. I was terrified, nay horrified that he would let loose all over me and my companions. Instead, he seemed to create some sort of siphon with his mouth, only spewing a steady stream of gross that I would equate to sap dripping from a tree.....I'm also pretty sure some of it went back in....
I saw all of these people in the same day if you can believe it. I know I can't. The only thing that would make this story complete is if they were all in the same place and became the next big boy band.
LOVES AND STRUGGS
B DANN
train gremlin - (n) a person who either from circumstance or disposition cannot function in normal society, but seem to fit in just fine while in riding the New York Subway System.
Now I have seen a lot of train gremlins in the past week, but only a few that are really worth writing about. I will warn you, two of the four gremlins were "performers", so I apologize for anyone that might be offended.
Let's call the first one Creeper. So creeper was listening to some tunes, had an I heart NY shirt on, and looked like a 2-shower a week hipster, just enough to not have stink-dick in the case of emergency sex. He could have been attractive if he wasn't singing severely out of tune and making really weird faces at everyone he saw. He did have one redeeming quality with an immediate reaction to anyone who needed help i.e. he helped a blind man find stairs (we'll never know if he made it to where he was going though) and helped a girl who literally had four suitcases take them off the train. Unfortunately, he was literally staring down every girl's shirt who was in his vicinity.
Next would be Homeless Harry. Harry was a generic homeless guy in almost every way; he had covered himself in one of those grayish blankets, had a mile long mustache that moved on its own fruition, what I'm assuming was a dead cat in a black plastic bag, and the kind of eyes any good schizophrenic homeless guy would have. What made him an oddity was the NINTENDO DS that he pulled out of his pocket!!! This dichotomy was extremely disconcerting to me, but no one else on the entire train car noticed. He was using a stylus made from a twig that I'm sure he whittled using the knife he hides in his butt for emergency shanking....
Then there was Superstar. Superstar kind of came out of nowhere, in that he started off as just a normal weirdo who was signing to himself quietly. Then with out warning, he broke out into full performance mode, starting with unsupported whistle tones and then leading into the verse which the sonic quality could be equated to a bear rapping a cow. This thankfully was noticed by the entirety of the train, so I didn't feel alone on this one. Just when I thought that he couldn't get any more odd, he stood up and started dancing around as if he was in a music video.....he brushed his shoulders off. The only thing that made it better was the horde of five year old girls (who by the way were wearing awesome princess tiaras and outfits!) that were laughing hysterically at the man. I'm still waiting for his record deal.
Lastly....but certainly not least, would be Asian Pirate. Let me set the stage for you. I had just gotten on the train with my friend Katherine when I spotted a real find across the way. An Asian man,wearing a coat that had jack sparrow level cuffs and leather seams where the buttons were. He was also dead.
OK he wasn't dead but I was pretty sure he was for the 3 minutes that he lay motionless on the seat with his eyes rolling back into his head. What happened next is not for the faint of heart.
Just when I was convinced that his last days on the train were coming to an end, he jerks up and bends over himself to prepare for something that I think everyone can imagine. I was terrified, nay horrified that he would let loose all over me and my companions. Instead, he seemed to create some sort of siphon with his mouth, only spewing a steady stream of gross that I would equate to sap dripping from a tree.....I'm also pretty sure some of it went back in....
I saw all of these people in the same day if you can believe it. I know I can't. The only thing that would make this story complete is if they were all in the same place and became the next big boy band.
LOVES AND STRUGGS
B DANN
Friday, June 18, 2010
Dear wonky eyed girl - I don't trust you
First, an apology for blogging twice in one day. But seriously, my senses have overloaded with all of the shit I've seen since I've been here so apology retracted!
This post will introduce the inner workings of my brain, so apology reinstated....but under different circumstances so don't go gloating.
I was on the train (I have a feeling a majority of posts will start with this) when I noticed a gem of a struggle. We'll call her Alexa because I feel like it fits. Let me describe her for you - she was probably 25 but looked like she was 18 and sound like she was a 5 year old girl that had some problems connecting her synapses. The worst part, above everything else, were her wonky eyes.
Now I consider myself an expert on wonky eyes, and in my experience I have noticed several kinds of wonky eyes.
There is the *endearing wonky eyes* that are only slightly off and give the sort of response you would give to a puppy that's still learning to walk (ADORABLE, RIGHT?). I can't ever tell, but I think I might have this kind, the only good kind, of wonky eye. Andy Cohen of Bravo is a prime example of this good category of wonky eye. Here's a photo link
http://cdn.videogum.com/files/2009/07/andy_cohen.jpg
PS-I might have an evil plot to get a job at Bravo so that I can gawk at Andy Cohen all day....
Then there is the blind awkward wonky eye that you only see when blind people think its a good idea to take off their sun glasses to make a point to a person who they think is in front of them. Another picture to explain my point.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilmINaJ7Xjidfvt1RJba9XcpKv0tPam4Vmh5iPRI-edEUfyAJBM9YiNyBBzPXPYuUx3q1l8ZFMyvIP-MocyOT51lNdgzvXyfI_u5ONnBg0m5djn9vfVHN7EtLZxhUfD974PPY5tFSLFVlE/s320/Cross-Eyed+Surgeon.jpg
...and then there was "Alexa". I can't even begin to describe what kind of wonky eye she had, because the problem was not the eye itself....it was what was behind her eyes.
As she blurted out random comments on things I could care less about, she kept looking in all different directions, never letting her eyes settle on one spot for two long. Add in a stupid smile with a tilted head and you have one of the most terrifying things I have ever seen. This is my version of her inner monologue-
A-Oh look, a black guy touching himself
A-Oh look, a sign! Too bad a can't read :(
A-Oh......
A-Oh it's my friend.....you know....what's'her'name
A-Oh, I just peed.....I think
All this time, her poor friend is sitting there trying to have a legitimate conversation with this succubus and out of nowhere, Alexa says "hummmm. Mneeerp. I want to go sweeeeeming!" And within a second, her friend pulled out a bathing suit from her purse and Alexa promptly started rubbing her face with it, looking like that ugly fuck from the LOTR that calls his ring "precious".
Enter my twisted mind.
I was thinking this morning, after recounting my adventures with Alexa, how funny it would be if the story had gone a little differently. This surge of brilliance came this morning when I was reading about the BOX OF HUMAN HEADS that was found on a South Western plane heading to Arkansas.
I imagined that instead of the bathing suit being pulled out, it was instead a human head from that flight. Nothing else changes.....imagine.
I'm sure I will see Alexa again....if nowhere else than in my dreams. But even there, I wouldn't trust her if my life depended on it. Her and her shady eyes.
LOVE AND STRUGGS
B DANN
PS-I just saw a commercial for a dating website called cougarlife.....I hope Andy is on it!!!
This post will introduce the inner workings of my brain, so apology reinstated....but under different circumstances so don't go gloating.
I was on the train (I have a feeling a majority of posts will start with this) when I noticed a gem of a struggle. We'll call her Alexa because I feel like it fits. Let me describe her for you - she was probably 25 but looked like she was 18 and sound like she was a 5 year old girl that had some problems connecting her synapses. The worst part, above everything else, were her wonky eyes.
Now I consider myself an expert on wonky eyes, and in my experience I have noticed several kinds of wonky eyes.
There is the *endearing wonky eyes* that are only slightly off and give the sort of response you would give to a puppy that's still learning to walk (ADORABLE, RIGHT?). I can't ever tell, but I think I might have this kind, the only good kind, of wonky eye. Andy Cohen of Bravo is a prime example of this good category of wonky eye. Here's a photo link
http://cdn.videogum.com/files/2009/07/andy_cohen.jpg
PS-I might have an evil plot to get a job at Bravo so that I can gawk at Andy Cohen all day....
Then there is the blind awkward wonky eye that you only see when blind people think its a good idea to take off their sun glasses to make a point to a person who they think is in front of them. Another picture to explain my point.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilmINaJ7Xjidfvt1RJba9XcpKv0tPam4Vmh5iPRI-edEUfyAJBM9YiNyBBzPXPYuUx3q1l8ZFMyvIP-MocyOT51lNdgzvXyfI_u5ONnBg0m5djn9vfVHN7EtLZxhUfD974PPY5tFSLFVlE/s320/Cross-Eyed+Surgeon.jpg
...and then there was "Alexa". I can't even begin to describe what kind of wonky eye she had, because the problem was not the eye itself....it was what was behind her eyes.
As she blurted out random comments on things I could care less about, she kept looking in all different directions, never letting her eyes settle on one spot for two long. Add in a stupid smile with a tilted head and you have one of the most terrifying things I have ever seen. This is my version of her inner monologue-
A-Oh look, a black guy touching himself
A-Oh look, a sign! Too bad a can't read :(
A-Oh......
A-Oh it's my friend.....you know....what's'her'name
A-Oh, I just peed.....I think
All this time, her poor friend is sitting there trying to have a legitimate conversation with this succubus and out of nowhere, Alexa says "hummmm. Mneeerp. I want to go sweeeeeming!" And within a second, her friend pulled out a bathing suit from her purse and Alexa promptly started rubbing her face with it, looking like that ugly fuck from the LOTR that calls his ring "precious".
Enter my twisted mind.
I was thinking this morning, after recounting my adventures with Alexa, how funny it would be if the story had gone a little differently. This surge of brilliance came this morning when I was reading about the BOX OF HUMAN HEADS that was found on a South Western plane heading to Arkansas.
I imagined that instead of the bathing suit being pulled out, it was instead a human head from that flight. Nothing else changes.....imagine.
I'm sure I will see Alexa again....if nowhere else than in my dreams. But even there, I wouldn't trust her if my life depended on it. Her and her shady eyes.
LOVE AND STRUGGS
B DANN
PS-I just saw a commercial for a dating website called cougarlife.....I hope Andy is on it!!!
Dear Rapid Realty...S my D!
Ok so I will try and make this sound as little like bitching as possible.
Ryan, my future roommate, and I took a trek out to Brooklyn the other day to try and find some apartments. Upon exiting the train, at least three people spoke Spanish to us....
Don't get me wrong I love me a Spanish man. But I am obviously white, and although I did take Spanish in high school that does not qualify me to be a translator. We were in Bushwick.....should have been a sign...and this would happen for the rest of the 7+ hours that we were walking (exaggeration possible).
As we stood on the corner waiting for our mysterious realtor, a lady with a traveling "ice box" came trolling across the street attempting to do a wheelie over the obviously too high curb. Her "cart" started to tip so Ryan and I did the gentlemanly thing and helped her out. She gave us many thanks in Spanish, and I'm pretty sure she either said we were handsome or hairy but I couldn't remember which one was which. At the very end, she asked us if we wanted "ice". The reason i put it in quotes? There were no stickers indicating anything was in the box, and she also asked us the same way a hooker would ask if we would like a ten dollar special....which by the way is not that special apparently.....
With that, a man yelled at us from the top of a building. This of course was our realtor. And the excitement begins! We walked in to the apartment building with open hearts and minds to be greeted by a druglevel-sweat drenched man wearing gym clothes and an unattractive blue tooth head set. His name was Michael, and he liked to "GET STUFF DONE! YA KNOW?!"
The apartment was a mess, and some random guy with his privileged daughter were there slithering over our every move. The walls were...well, not put together properly, and things were literally falling apart. I'll preface what I say next with a fact; I did commercial construction for three years and was a licensed asbestos abater. Now the conversation-
Me-When was the building last inspected for lead and asbestos?
Mike-Oh those were made illegal in 1976. (side note, lead paint was made illegal in 1978 and asbestos in 1989.....)
Me-I'm aware. That's why I'm asking if the building has been inspected before renovations were made.
Mike-Well the building was made after the 70's so those wouldn't have been used.
Me-Ok, I just wanted to ask because I did construction for three years and I know that certain materials were still used after the bane.
Mike-I've been doing construction for 15 years! I did this place, that's why it looks so good.
Legit, walls were crooked.
Mike tried showing us another apartment, but the super could not be contacted....hmmm. He has called us about three times since our visit trying to find other places for us.
Rapid Realty, aka I NEED YOU TO TAKE THIS APARTMENT SO I CAN PAY CHILD SUPPORT
Rapid Realty.... S my D.
LOVE AND STRUGGS
B DANN
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Adventures BEGIN!
...
What the fuck is this blog about?
I asked myself the same question when I decided to follow the carnival of people ahead of me who think that they have more important things to say than I do....alas many of them do.
My original intention was to keep everyone updated with the going ons of my life, considering I made the terrifying decision to pursue theater in one of the toughest cities in the world. After long consideration (5 minutes!!!) I realized that my blog would be just the fat elephant in the room that everyone wants to leave the party because he ate all the Doritos.
I myself hate it when people bitch...that is unless it's me bitching and I need it so GIVE ME THE ICE CREAM BACK!
...sorry. I decided a better idea than recounting my woes of pursuing the dream, (thank you Denzel Washington!) would be to recount random things I find either funny, horrifying, or just down right offensive. I will also provide plenty of internal monologue so don't fret.
Things to expect
-Blogging about ugly people
-Blogging about bad subway performers
-Blogging about that starbucks in Bryant Park that HAS to be a fire hazard
-Blogging about cougars (meee-ow!)
-Blogging about ugly babies.....really the biggest tragedy there is
-Blogging about gay things
-Blogging about things that are gay
-Blogging about people who are STRUGGLES!!!
-Blogging about my self being a struggle
-My opinions
-Bad grammar, ... , and ()
LOVE AND STRUGGS
B DANN
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