oo-ooh, that smell

Well, the old lady’s out of town for the week, shooting chickens. No, I don’t mean she’s blasting ‘em with buckshot. But I bet she wishes she was armed right now. She’s off shooting more Perdue commercials.

Anyway, that means Fran and I have Dude’s Week around the homestead.

That’s actually not true. Franny’s not a dude. She’s an animal. And if anything, we’re living more like animals than humans this week. So, I stand corrected. We’ve been living like filthy animals since Monday morning.

Things have been good. Really good. Well, ok, they’ve been boring. But that means I’ve had nothing but time to work on the screenplays and sitcom pilots and stand up comedy routines I’ve been meaning to get to. And I’m totally gonna get to that stuff. As soon as I’m done not getting to it.

What I have been doing is watching movies. An embarrassing number of movies, actually. In the three days that Crissy’s been gone, I’ve plowed through the following:

1. The Taking of Pelham One, Two, Three (no, not the remake with Travolta. But thanks.)
2. The Hurt Locker
3. What Just Happened?
4. Role Models
5. Humbolt County
6. Frost/Nixon
7. Frost Nixon: The Original Watergate Interviews

And on the scale of Do I or Don’t I wish I wrote that movie, the scores were the following:

1. Yes
2. Yes
3. Yes
4. Yes
5. Meh
6. Yes
7. It’s a documentary. But yes

Above is a picture of the coffee table last night after movie #6. This is the first of a series I like to call The Lonely Shower.

The New Man in My Life (Sorry Kev)

Well hellooooooo little muffin man!
Introducing Mr. Griffin Lev Liker - We can't wait to squeeze you!!!

(Born to the most bitchin' set of parents a kid could ask for, Christine and Alex Liker, on August 21, 2009)

P.U.

Today I am thankful that I don't have to ride the subway twice a day, five days a week in the thick of summer. Kevin describes the subway stations as being "hotter than the devil's breath" (I think he's been watching a little too much Paula Deen) but I liken them to feeling like you're Carly from Days of Our Lives when she was buried alive. It's a suffocating, stifling, raw fucking heat down there.

And it's not so fresh above ground either. I've got a pretty good idea why all the rich people around here flee this island during August - it was 95º + 100% humidity and ZERO breeze today. Combine that with the garbage, general stankness and vehicular and human exhaust of Manhattan and you get one fine lookin' lady right here. I've been sporting a couple of super sexy baloney (bologna?) pits and some beady upper lip and boobsweat that made me look like I've dipped my bits in olive oil. And to add insult to injury, I'm already using men's deodorant to help* curb my spicy Mediterranean sweat glands.

Time to go take another shower.


*It's not actually helping

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LITTLE MAN

We can't wait to sniff your supreme baby deliciousness!
PS, You learn this soon but you have a kickass set of parents.


*Tanner Leo Kai-Ren Benjamin, fresh from the oven early this morning, weighing in at a hearty 9lbs 1 oz!!!"

Smell Ya Later

Our porn-y next door neighbors must have had the fight to end all fights - the dude moved out two weeks ago and the girl is moving out this weekend. I wonder who we'll be sharing a bedroom wall with next...

*Please revisit THIS POST if you need a refresher

To all the single ladies of NYC

If you're looking for a man, head on over to the Subway on Hudson and Beach at lunchtime on a weekday. They may be khaki pants-wearing bankerdudes, but if you're into that sort of thing you'll have plenty to choose from.

sometimes

i have the urge to throw eggs out of the window at loud people/tourists/asshole-y jerks on the street below.

also, i've often fantasized about carrying a carton of eggs in my bag and chucking them at people who drive like a-holes.

do you feel me on this?

planning nostromo's fate

This is a picture of a conference room during preparations for another major pitch my agency is about to begin. Tell me that doesn’t look like an evil corporation in the not-too-distant-future planning world domination.

Not to mention the fact that 3 of the 5 people in this picture have British accents.

So you know if a bloodthirsty alien gets on board the spaceship, they’ll demand the alien be brought back to earth for study, considering Sigourney Weaver and the rest of her crew expendable.

What? Nobody remembers Alien?

that's some spicy giardia

Admittedly, we let Franny rule the roost a little too soon after saving her grubby life from those rubes in Westchester. (Ok they were nice people...I digress).

We were just so excited about our pre-potty trained dog that we relinquished control of the cable remotes and the good spot on the couch after about 2 weeks. Trust me, we tried to crate train her. We just didn't have the backbone to deal with her desperate cries for freedom. And she didn’t make us regret it for almost two months.

Then she had a little pee accident. Eh, no biggie.

Then another.

Then one or two more.

Then, WHAMMO!

She got slammed with giardia.

Now just when you think to yourself, “Giardia? Is that some delicious Italian antipasto? Is that a condiment you spread on your Polish sausage? Is it spicy? I love spicy food!”

Let me assure you, it is none of those.

In scientific terms, giardia is an anaerobic flagellated protozoan parasite. In layman’s terms, it’s a diarrhea party in our apartment.

Not only is poor Fran sick as a….a….well, a dog, she’s been ostracized by the entire canine community. Apparently giardia is shockingly, horrifically, flesh-eatingly contagious. Which means no dog park (which is where she contracted the disease in the first place, I might add), and no doggie day care. It also means everything she’s ever touched in her 10 months of existence had to be sterilized with a toothbrush.

And it means (cue high pitched violins) that we can get it.

Actually, as long as we lay off the makeout sessions for a week or two, that’s pretty unlikely. Sadly though, the poor mutt has to stay inside all day long in our 600 square foot isolation unit. We’ve been running her in the mornings to try to wear her out, and she gets hour-long walks at lunch, but still…

Anyway, I’d like to throw in a little plug here. If your dog is planning on contracting giardia any time soon, I’d suggest picking up a Flor rug. They’re super cool little modular rugs that fit together in squares, so you can clean them separately when things get…messy. Unfortunately Franny has been picking ours off one by one like a game of diarrhea breakout, so it’s time to select some new squares.

Something tells me we won’t be picking canary yellow and white next time.

letter from the editors

This blog is meant to accomplish 2 things:

1. Remind us of things we did while living in New York.
2. Tell jokes.

Not necessarily in that order. Sometimes I'm guilty of a colorful retelling of events that I find funny. I admit it. If at any point I or we offend anyone reading the blog, we sincerely apologize.

In the immortal words of every comedian who's ever lived...

They're just jokes, folks.

the perfect* saturday night =

my best canine galpal + a bottle o' wine + one of my top 5 favorite movies



*the only thing that would make it better is if K was here