Choose Your Own Adventure Blog (feat. Cheeseburgers!)

ONE

You guys all feel sorry for me because I feel like shit today. You read my blog over and over again to make me feel better. If you would like to know why I feel like shit, go to TWO. If you would like to hear about the Tony awards, go to THREE. If you would like to hear about the basketball game go to ANOTHER BLOG.

TWO

Probably because I had two fucking cheeseburgers from a New Jersey McDonalds and my body can no longer process Grade ZZZ beef. You laugh at my digestive upset and the smörgåsbord of germs I got from the little Mexican child who tried to plow me over so I get mad and breathe on you. You die. THE END.

THREE

The Tony's were surprisingly entertaining. You are shocked because you don't find live theater relevant. You are wrong. I encourage you to seriously find a YouTube of the opening number because it is cute and funny and reaffirmed my 1,000-ton crush on Neil Patrick Harris. Here, I will do it for you.

Doesn't that bring back memories off all the things you want to inflict on Brooke Shields? Furthermore, although he cannot sing his way out of a plastic bag and I still wish he would shrivel off of the celebrity circuit forever, I have to admit that Daniel Radcliffe danced the shit out of his How to Succeed number.

Ok that's all I have to say about the Tony's. If you get on your knees and beg me to link to the new Selena Gomez song, go to SIX. If you do not want me to do that for some reason, go to FOUR.

FOUR

Too bad.

Go to FIVE.

FIVE

If you don't like that song yet, go to SIX. If you do like that song now, go to SEVEN.

SIX

Here.

Go to FIVE.

SEVEN

Bravo. Now you love Selena Gomez. Is this awesome? Circle one: Yes/yes. Go to TEN.

EIGHT

Inside the mailbox is a portal to Narnia. You are stabbed in the eye by Tilda Swinton's cheekbones. You are dead. THE END.

NINE

Weren't they delicious, cow? Here is the story of their creation. Jen and I are starting a new tradition where we bake stuff and watch movies every.... now and then. Saturday it was red velvet cupcakes and The Wizard. (Yes, I watched the fucking Wizard again.) After the wizard, Ry Ry took us on a tour of the best parts of Queen of the Damned, which weren't very many. Next time I will make lemon tarts, she will do something else, and we will watch makeover-themed movies.

Anyway it was a lovely fucking evening before you ruined it by eating all the cupcakes. This is why you are a cow. That's it. Ok. You are killed by a grue. THE END.

TEN

You are in a field. You see a mailbox. To the north is a house. Exits are north, northwest, and south. If you open the mailbox, go to EIGHT. If you break into the house and eat all the red velvet cupcakes I made with my friend Jen this weekend, go to NINE, you cow. If you dig a hole to China, go to ELEVEN.

ELEVEN

You die in China. THE END.

Whoosh Update: Your Source for Whooshiness

How many hamburgers did I eat this weekend? Four.

I know!

They were so good.

Hamburgers! Hooray!

Hooray for hamburgers!

Other than that, this weekend basically consisted of me looking at apartments. I saw 8 and was impressed with but one. One other was this Grey Gardens nightmare that the selling agent was all "Oh, you can do anything you want with it! It's all surface stuff, you can have it the way you want in no time." My realtor whispered to me "You're looking at $100,000 in repairs and upgrading here. Srsly." I like my realtor.

Anyway my friend Sam also stayed with me because his floors were getting redone. We bed shopped, which involved him making me lay on beds and getting my opinion. But that got boring so I would walk away to lay on the $5,000 beds and say "Oh, but Sam, try out this one!" pretty much with the goal of making him dissatisfied with whatever he ended up choosing. I'm a good friend.

I also went to a The Bird and the Bee concert at Carnegie Hall, which was pretty much the best thing ever. They're a super-talented duo, and the girl who sings (presumably the bird), Inara, was such a trooper because she was sick with a horrible cold but stuck it out and had a great time anyway. Highly recommended.

Bottom line is SNORE I'm so tired right now. Can I tell you how many sets of stairs I did yesterday? I've been looking at lots of walk-ups.

Anyway, there's an awesome apartment with a private roof deck (just for me), so if you pray for me to get it, you're invited to my Memorial Day barbeque. If you're a vegetarian, you might want to eat something beforehand because all I can offer you is Snyder's cheese pretzel niblets.

Eavesdumping

Here.

It's a picture of me.

I went to a new cafe this week while wandering SoHo trying really hard not to be 3 hours early for Samfriend's brunch on Saturday. City Girl Cafe. Good coffee. That picture at the top is so obviously the city girl.

Oh and I got to watch a blind date happen and fail. So there was this guy sitting alone, right, and this girl walked in who clearly worked there and had a shift starting in like 2 hours. You could tell because she said so. She was talking to the other employees when that guy got up and asked if she was Sharon. She's like "No, Sarah. Blind date?" He said "Match.com. She actually looks a lot like you." Sarah says "Oh, I can't wait to see her if I'm still here."

About 15 minutes later, Sarah left and Sharon showed up. She was really pretty, but she looked like Sarah to the amount of ZERO unless you count the fact that they were both ASIAN! Good one, guy. I have an idea, why don't you tell Sharon all about her "twin" because she'll find it funny that you can't tell Asian people apart.

So he did. And she didn't.

Whatever, I eavesdropped and kinda tuned out for a while because the date was going well, and it was boring first-date conversation that I don't want to hear with people I'm out with let alone perfect strangers. Then I caught her say "So what exactly is it you do?" and I'm thinking "Oh, he must have an interesting job if she doesn't have an idea of what it is from his profile."

So I listened. And I watched as her eyes glazed over at the words "Well, my real passions are soccer and acting, so those are what I'd like to do." I've never read an Asian girl so perfectly. Everything about her face said "Oh, really? I was hoping for someone with a career." See because he's not an actor. He wants to BECOME an actor. A soccer-playing actor. Like a less-hot Andrew Shue.

Then she told a story about her dog, and pretty much once you start talking about your pets, you don't care how your first date is going anymore so I left.

And ended up an hour early to brunch, which was way fun and a total success because after that and holidays I am fat again see?

More later.

Does anyone else hate December now because of that song from the animated feature Anastacia?

Hey, America, I forgot to say thanks last week.

Here's a picture of Jonathan Taylor Thomas that will soon be gracing the wall above my bed.

I can't wait for the next time I bring a guy home (projected date: Never-ember, 2025) and he can be all ready to lay with me ("lay with me", what is this, the bible?) and then he'll see ol' JTT and my Andrew Shue READ poster and either make an excuse to leave or get turned on, and then I will know I am in love.

Oh and P.S. I had two Thanksgiving dinners and a whole bunch of other food this weekend, obviously. I also did nothing but sit around, watch movies, and sleep for 12 hours in a row a couple times.

Estimated caloric intake: Infinity calories.
Estimated calories burned: 1 calorie.
Total weight gain: -3 pounds.

Yes, I am the only person in the world (United States) who lost three pounds after a gluttonous, slothful Thanksgiving weekend. Kudos, me.

Being thrust into an environment of constant, inescapable social interaction as I was this weekend is totally exhausting. I had a fabulous time, and I loved everyone I was with, but it's just too much for my feeble, introverted soul to manage. There's even a difference between sitting and watching Young Guns II with a group of people not saying anything and sitting and watching Xena alone with a hungry cat. So last night was a night of totally welcome decompression. I relaxed so hard... well, except during Gabrielle's emotional turmoil episode. That was taxing.

More weekend statistics:

Animals killed for my gratification: 2 turkeys, approx. 3 pigs, 2 chickens, 1 cow, and whatever the hell gives its life to make Jimmy Dean sausage
Shitty movies watched: 5 billion
Good movies watched: Like 2
Totally Awesome movies watched: 1. Bolt. Yes.
Hours on a bus: 13
Hours I wanted to kill myself on a bus: 12
Posters of Jonathan Taylor Thomas purchased: Only 1 so far.

The Adventures

Hi, I had an exciting weekend with almost NO INTERNET! I went to a party Friday where I was the token social outcast, but I met some people and then randomly ran into ALL of them the following night where I was less awkward yet embarassingly WEARING THE EXACT SAME THING because I left the house Saturday morning expecting to just go to the park for a couple hours by myself but ended up having lunch out and dinner with Brian who finally called me back after like 2 weeks I mean 50 years. Whatever.

Sunday after a lovely day of MoMA and dinner at Cafeteria, I went home and watched the end of season one of Xena, where Gabrielle DIED and Xena totally lost her mind and was crying and freaking out so I started crying and freaking out, and Xena was beating on her body refusing to accept her death, and then her She-Ra strength jump-started Gabrielle's heart so I started crying again. To conclude, I have serious emotional problems because I can go to a Holocaust exhibit and hear about the torture and murder of millions of real people and think "Yeah yeah, what else ya got?" but as soon as Gabrielle or Buffy's mom die or even that lesbian in that crappy BBC show about witches, suddenly I need a blanket and a tissue and a razor blade.

Ooh, and I never told you about Thursday! On Thursday, Xena got shot with a poison dart and was weakened, so Gabrielle had to impersonate her to help a town defeat an evil overlord, but she got found out. DRAMA! And then Xena DIED, and Gabrielle did all she could to convince them to let her leave with Xena's body, but the evil overlord was going to draw and quarter it. Little did he know, however, that one of the horses he was using was Xena's, and the horse conspired with the other horses through a series of meaningful glances to not run no matter how much they were whipped. It was the most poignant expression of stalwart heroism in media history. Anyway, it turns out Xena wasn't dead, but rather allowed herself to slip into a voluntary coma in order to fully allow her body to battle the toxin. In the end, Xena told Gabrielle how touching it was that Gabrielle risked her life to bring Xena's body back home, and I cried then too.

Ok now that I've effectively lost my entire readership, let me announce that I'm going to Chicago for a week and a half and getting laser eye surgery, and I probably won't be on the internet at all but wish me luck and prepare to be so jealous of me when I return and can see like a hawk. I plan to have such good eyesight that I can see every pore in a person's face from across a dark bar and will therefore never be attracted to another man as long as I live.

Welcome to my blog, it is an intellectual feedbag

I have a spider bite or a zit or something under my eye and everyone thinks I got punched in the face and I'm totally disfigured. Pics to come.

Why do all my ailments have to be in the form of skin conditions?! Oh look, Scott has a zit, Scott has eczema, Scott has a viral abcess MAYBE SCOTT WANTS SOME NICE GANGRENE TO GO WITH IT! Why can't I just have something invisible like scarlet fever or the consumption?

What else did I do this weekend except become ugly, let's see.... my friend Ryan came in, which is nice because he's a bigger nerd than me and brought me a Buffy the Vampire Slayer novelization because he has ALL of them so everyone go laugh at Ryan. I also went to the Morgan Library and the Jewish Museum. Y'know what's weird? It's weird how you can go to museums and stuff and feel like you're learning things and then the next day you still don't know shit about anything. I saw the three Gutenberg Bibles, which was a little neat but largely underwhelming. I thought they'd be haunted or something, but they're really just Bibles with pretty illuminations in a poorly-lit room.

This used to be a paragraph about the Holocaust and what people are and are not allowed to say about it, but I took it out because it was too serious and would probably just piss people off.

Other activites included watching The Triplets of Belleville, my new favoritest movie ever, and reading more of that Genji book that I am increasingly less likely to finish. Increasingly less... hm.

Also on Sunday I ate lunch and then I ate dinner and then at 10:00 I decided I was still hungry so I ordered a large pizza and ate the entire thing. Nom nom nom let's hear it for my tapeworm!

Tweakend

I guess I missed the Black Party

Let's see, what did I do this weekend oh that's right NOTHING!

Friday night I was all primed for a cozy night in reading and cleaning because all of my friends had other plans, but then I got dead tired and was sleeping by 9 because I am a geriatric.

I also saw Horton Hears a Who, which is about an elephant and his speck. It's pretty good. There's also a little fuzzy yellow thing named Katie, who has some problems.

Anyway then I had dinner with The Architect on Saturday and we went to a place I had been before except this time we ordered a bottle of wine that was probably the best bottle of wine ever made. Ok backstory: First of all, we had two waiters: Hot Waiter and Less Hot Waiter. Hot Waiter brought us a bottle of wine but when we smelled it, it was like nail polish remover, and when we tasted it, it was like nail polish remover, and Hot Waiter agreed. Enter Less Hot Waiter who decided to tell us there was nothing wrong with it like he knew anything. He became my enemy and officially "Less Hot" and we got a new bottle anyway, which ended up being this delicious perfect spicy cherry wine.

I don't have pics from the weekend yet, so here's something else. That's my building on the left.

Hot Waiter was mostly hot because he had good hair that I wanted. The best part about the wine is that when we got the check, we weren't charged for it. Anyway, at about 10 I found out that The Architect is a geriatric too because we both got really tired and went home to bed so we could wake up in time for the WORST HANGOVER HEADACHES EVER!

Then we played with his brand new dual shower head, which was really WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW! I'm only telling you about that because The Architect's mom reads my blog now because apparently he couldn't think of any other way to show her a picture of me. Yeah, now you know he is an Advanced Genius Level Architect. AGLA. Agla Khan.

Then we had brunch with shitty coffee and went on a walk and I came home to "put up my shelves" which is code for "watch TV for 5 hours." THE END

Weekend, Tonys, shittiness.

I was supposed to do this big hilarious post about my weekend and the Tonys, and you were going to laugh, but I'm soooo beyond tired. I didn't sleep last night because I went to bed at one and my body said NO YOU CANNOT SLEEP UNTIL THREE and then my cat said NO YOU CANNOT SLEEP UNTIL THREE THIRTY so I put my cat in the bathroom and she said IF YOU KEEP ME IN HERE I WILL ROLL AROUND IN THE LITTER BOX AND YOWL AND SHRED THE TOILET PAPER AND YOU WILL NEVER SLEEP AGAIN so I murdered her in my head over and over and counted them until I finally got to sleep, bludgeoning one decapitation two gradual starvation while I dangle raw fish just out of reach THREE HOW'S IT TASTE BITCH!?!?!

So I'm in a crappy mood and I don' thave much to say about the Tonys anyway. I learned a lot about Christine Ebersole and how awesome she is. (Link to YouTube. I'm a work, so I can't watch this and find out what it is, but it leads to all sorts of Grey Gardens clips.) No power on this earth will keep my from this show.

I also learned that bland performances are considered acceptable and that people can be tricked into liking Spring Awakening when shown the only 3 minutes of the show that were actually bearable I PROMISE YOU NO MATTER WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THE PERFORMANCE THE REST WAS SHITTY FIVE BILLION AWARDS OR NOT except ok, that guy who won for best actor in a featured role was good, so he deserved his award and also maybe I want to have sex with him a little bit.

I'll try to stop using caps lock run on sentences to express myself, I'm more refined than that because I have so much class.

Other features of the weekend include, but are not limited to the following:

• I saw Knocked Up and it was good and true to life and hilarious except the part with the yucky thing.
• I had brunch and it took infinity plus forever minutes to get our food, but it was super fun and there were important mimosas.
• I passed out in a bar because I am either irresponsible, date-rapable, diseased, or a starving orphan. It was really embarassing, but I felt fine right after. Don't worry, nothing bad happened, I did a scan. Two kidneys, two testicles, in-tact rectum. No harm no foul.

That's all, that's the recap. Also, I invented a new genre of poetry today during the Boringest Meeting in Boresville. The genre is called "shitty poetry" and it goes a little something like this:

Shitty Meeting : a shitty poem
This is the boringest meeting ever.
If you wonder when it will end, it is never.
This woman will not shut her mouth.
She makes me want to migrate south.
This man sounds like an ass.
I will make fritters from his hulking mass.
If this meeting does not end soon,
I will set off fireworks in this room.
The new presenter is really hot.
Ugly and boring he is not.
I am imagining having sex with him.
After the meeting I will say "Stick it in!"
But other than that, this meeting is snore city.
And that is why it is shitty, shitty, shitty.

I guess I'm a great writer after all. If you like the poem, you can set it to music and we can have a campfire sing-along.