Friday, July 11, 2008

It's Everyone Can Bite Me Friday!


KILL IT, KILL IT NOW. If I hear that commercial one more time I'm getting a rifle and limping up a tower and shooting at every motherfucker in Hollywood. Especially the ones who made this movie. Oh, and in case you didn't know, and you probably don't, all analog TVs will be obsolete next February. The 18th of February. Of 2009. In case you haven't heard, which you probably haven't.

Hey, look at my banner. The colon is back! When I registered it for trademark status I didn't have the colon on all the merchandise so I had to take it off this site until it went through.

I'm over at Uproarious today, talking about one of my favorite comics EVAH. I've added their widget to my sidebar. It will take you directly to the blog and can also be used as an ATM machine.

And I'm walking.

It's amazing all the things you take for granted in life. Like walking. Even though I'm doing it on crutches and the boot is a doppelganger for the Empire State building, it makes me feel human again. And for those of you who know me, I am not often called human. And in case you're wondering, I have no idea how to make an umlaut on the keyboard.

The night anxieties have come back. It means restless leg syndrome, eating late at night with no hunger required, carbs only bien sur, and an inability to fall asleep before 5 a.m. I have no idea what triggers this and have suffered from it since I moved to California during the Gold Rush. GOD MAKE IT STOP.

And speaking of things you take for granted.

When I lived in NYC, we had a super(intendant) named Victor. He was Peurto Rican, very handsome and a Ford model who had just gone past his prime modeling years a twee.

An ex-Viet Nam vet, he was also a hero in our neighborhood on the Upper East Side. This was back in the 80's, before gentrification popped our hood on its ass. We were at 90th and York, just north of the richest part of the Upper East Side. I had a kickass view of the East River and all the behemoth tankers that used to glide by, slowly and gracefully. Gracie Mansion, where the Mayor lives, was right across the street surrounded by a beautiful park and boardwalk.

Victor used to wrangle all the juvies in our part of the jungle and make them do physical activities to keep trouble at bay. Everyone loved him.

Turns out the reason Victor lived with only his Doberman Pinscher Sukie and became a super was because he had recently separated from his wife and child. He was, unfortunately, a cheat. He had affairs left and right and even ended up with one of my friends, which they both tried to keep from me. FAT CHANCE.

Finally Victor cleaned up his act. And wanted his wife back. He called her over and over and she refused. He had just abused her trust too many times. So one day he locked the Dobie in the bedroom, called his wife, begged her to take him back, and when she once again refused, shot himself in the chest, in the heart. Over the phone.

He survived the Viet Nam war but not his marriage.

We lived in front of a bus stop, the first one on the 86 crosstown line. We all knew the bus dispatchers by name. Victor's wife had called 911 and they sent cars and an ambulance over but everyone was afraid to go in because of the Dobie. No one knew the dog had been locked up so they assumed he was standing guard over poor Victor. The police decided to send in Vinnie, one of the dispatchers, since he at least had had contact with the dog.

Later on Vinnie told us what the apartment looked like and said no one should ever have to see something like that.

The next day I took the 86 bus over to the West Side. I got off at Central Park West, which I never did. There are no shops on that street, just apartment buildings. But I needed to walk, my usual refuge for when I need to think things over. I looked up at the trees in the park. I couldn't believe how beautiful they were and how supremely gorgeous the park appeared. I was so happy to be living in the most fabulous city in the world and I just stood there, awestruck. New York and all its beauty overwhelmed me.

And then I thought, "I can't believe Victor would leave all this."

A park and a city I knew like the back of my hand, including where all the bathrooms were in all the major hotels. I had never seen them before like I did that day. Not really.

End of chat.


  1. You can dance! You can ji-ive! . . . OH MY GOD! I'VE BEEN SHOT!

    I'm with you. Not even the magic of Colin Firth will save this movie.

    As for Victor, what a terrible story. I will never cease to be amazed at how people can be so talented and together in their professional lives and yet so messed up in their personal lives.

    My friend Paxil helps with those night attacks.

  2. MomBomb, your friend Paxil and I broke up over 3 years ago when he made me gain weight. But yeah, I'm looking around for a new boyfriend. I hear Lexapro has a house in Beverly Hills and a Ferrari.

  3. Anonymous4:11 PM

    I think Welbutrin is a good fellow to date.
    P.S. I was getting all upset reading the story. I thought you were going to tell us he shot the dog....

  4. Thanks for ruining my evening. I thought you were supposed to be a comedian, for heaven's sake. I'm not laughing.

    How do I register my blog title for trademark status?

  5. How much do I suck if I want to see it?
    I wanted to go to the play when it was here but the husband this and the husband that...

    What happened to the dog?

  6. MJ, I've heard that about him.

    Suburban, answered in an email.

    Bee, there was a rumor that the wife took the dog. I know she didn't go to a shelter because we lived one block from the ASPCA and Sukie, her name, wasn't there.

  7. I'm with you on those commercials. Why do I need to know about something that won't happen until Feb, over and over again?
    And do I want to see middle aged people falling in love. Do you think there will middle age people nudity? I saw enough of that in Sideways and of course everyday...
    So sad about Victor. I'm having an affair with Lexapro.

  8. Umm, I'm supposed to go laugh now?

  9. Anonymous3:55 PM

    I found your blog searching for "cripples on crutches who want out" or something similar. You're hilarious. I'm a single female who has been crutching around Manhattan for SEVEN WEEKS due to a torn-up ankle. The surgeon says lots of helpful things like, "Hmm, you really should be walking by now. I don't understand."

    So... anyway... at least we're both getting really good at crutches, I'd imagine. I didn't go the knee scooter route because I didn't know it was out there. Crutches get easier after the first month anyway. (It's weird how this kind of recovery makes a month seem short and totally manageable, e.g.: "Five months on crutches? You're lucky it wasn't, like, serious."


  10. Clara, I met a guy out here who was on them for NINE months and his upper body was to die for. So much so that he only wore sleeveless T's, to show it off. He's the one who warned me not to lean on crutches with your armpits or you'll pass out. He found that out the hard way.

    Hope your ankle turns out okay!

  11. I've also had intimate knowledge of Wellbutrin. Hung like an ox and he can also cause you to lose weight. I'm just sayin...

    Glad to hear you are completely upright. Now comes the really fun part: physical therapy. PT makes me want join you in the bell tower.

  12. That is a sad story about Victor, but that was mean what he did to his wife. We do take so much for granted. Glad to hear you are out and about. I still want to see the movie.

  13. You're upright! YAY!!! They gave me crutches but I haven't used them yet (despite having a valid Crutch License) because I enjoy hobbling around without them (walking like Chester on "Gunsmoke") and swearing.

    So sad about Victor.

    And wait ... Abba is coming back and TV is going away? Why don't people tell us about these things?

  14. Poor Victor. I'm sure he had no idea his death would impact so many people.

    Brushes with death really do make you see things differently. The key is remembering that feeling and realizing every single day how lucky we are to be alive and in (relatively!) good health.

  15. Wow. You do have the best stories. Even when they're not funny.

  16. I'm not going to get Victor's story out of my head. But you told the story beautifully.