I always joke around about wanting to be Wonder Woman. As a kid, I ran around in Wonder Woman Under-roos.

Anyway, as I walked home from dinner this evening, I noticed a couple arguing in the street. The guy had this girl by her elbow and was dragging her along the sidewalk. It took a second to register, but when I realized what was going on, I started walking faster towards them. By the time I got close enough, he pushed her into one of those planters and kept shoving her further and further in… yelling about something.

What did I do? Well, I can tell you that I wasn’t thinking when I ran over and started yelling at the guy to back off. Other people stopped, but no one else tried to prevent anything else from happening. I realize it wasn’t a smart thing to do, but my first reaction was to save this girl. He ended up walking away and didn’t even turn back. Luckily, he didn’t try to use his beer muscles on me.

Look, I don’t care what she did to you in a bar, or how pissed off you might be. You DON’T drag a girl around and shove her over and over again into a planter on the street.

Oh, I’m so sorry that I didn’t clock him in the head. My adrenaline is still pumping.

This is something you never want to see. Not only did you just miss the L train, but you can still see that train’s ass sticking in of the station. However, after waiting 40 minutes on the platform for said train to move its fat ass with no results, you start being very, very glad you missed it.

So right now, as of 4:45 pm, it looks like the L is down in both directions. There is a train stuck between Lorimer Street and Bedford Ave on the Manhattan bound side. Rumor on the track amongst the hundreds of people waiting to get on at Lorimer Street station is that someone was hit by the train. Ouch! Here’s hoping said person and your evening commute is okay.

Photo: Courtesy of Denim Therapy

We ALL have our favorite jeans. You know, the ones that show off our best assets.

Well, MY favorite pair has seen better days, and the holes that are near the crotch area are at the point where people are noticing. Not that I care, but when my 3 year old nephew was shocked and appalled when he saw the holes, I thought it was time I did something.

Up until today, I thought my only option was to go out and spend a crap load of money on a new pair. Not so. If I can tear myself away from my jeans for 2 weeks, I can ship them over to Denim Therapy. According to their site, they provide the best quality repair for any degree of worn, tattered or falling apart denim by reconstructing your jeans using the same or similar fabric. Nice! This is EXACTLY what I need.

All you have to do, is wash your jeans, fill out a form, and ship them out (not sure if you need to ship them if you live in NYC). They then inspect the damaged goods and give you an estimate. The site says that the estimated cost is $7 an inch. WHAT A DEAL! Your favorite jeans are worth a LOT more than that.

When I can go 2 weeks without my jeans, I’ll give it a try and let you know how the experience is. For now, you’ll all have to deal with the holes.

First of all, I feel I should give a quick update on my new New York license.
It arrived yesterday.
My jury duty papers arrived the day before.
Fifteen wasted hours of my life were merely prelude. It’s almost as if the city itself is saying, “Ha! Gotcha!”

That said, should you be looking for an evening of mild-tittering, well, baby, have I got a show for you! Everybody say “whee” for self-aggrandizement.

Back in ancient times, me a few friends of mine used to partake of the Stand-Up Comedy. We were the annoyances working from six to one in the morning, fliering everyone that hoved into our field of vision. We compared our varied reactions to the on-going machinations of Michael Jackson. We all danced in fields of Hackery. They were halcyon days. Except when they weren’t.

For various reasons, we all dropped the mic, and not in the emphatic way Chris Rock does at the end of his set, sending the sound crew into fits of despair.

But now we’re back baby! We’re back and we’re mildly perturbed! Tonight we have a one-night stand with milady Humor, and attempt to woo her to our side once more. For the adventurous, I invite you to join us on our journey into the hackneyed descriptions of the everyday. Together we will stare into such insightful comments as “Don’t you hate it when the subway is late?” and “What the hell is hummus anyway?”

Tonight we play. Come play with us. Considering the clubs we’re running and hiding from, you now have an chance to support the independent voices of New York Comedy. The rebel voices, the ones that cry into the night, “You know what the difference is between men and women?” We will not be silenced! Our semi pithy statements about the banal will be heard! And thanks to the addition of Mr. Carlos, a real pro, it might even be worth a chortle or two.

The Out of Hibernation Tour – Featuring: Jordan Carlos, Devin Assunscio, Brett Jones, Seth Hurlbert, and Jordan Zolan. Hosted by your own John-Boy.
Tonight at the bar below Nevada Smiths
74 3rd Ave. (B/w 11th and 12th.)
8:00 p.m. – Doors open at 7:30. $5 cover.

In the words of Will Smith in ID-4: “PEACE!”

(End of desperate self-promotion.)

Pretty, schmetty – get me a table at Nobu!

Well no, you didn’t really ask for it, but since Canada – Lake Louise specifically, by way of Calgary, Alberta – is where I’ve been all week, and due to the very gentle reminder from our lovely and talented captain Dana to us non-posting NYC MB’ers to start posting (what’s your excuse?), and at the risk of pissing off our dear friends north of the border (all in good fun, ay!), AND keeping in mind that this is n of 1, focused not only on one tiny part of a very big country, but on one particular ski resort during one week in the history of time, AND (last one) because I have nothing else to write about, I hereby bring you the top ten reasons New York is better than Canada.
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Do you remember the days when we used to run for our morning cheesebus to take us to school? For many, I think the rule still applies, even my mom for example has to run to catch her Q43 or N22 (express) every morning. She’ll ask everyone who is free for a ride to the bus stop, other times, if it’s too late, she’ll want someone to drop her off to the subway station which is a 20 minute drive from all the way on the border of Queens & LI.

This morning I saw a kid, not necessarily athletic, okay, he was a bit chubby and that’s why I found this amusing. As I drove comfortably away in the opposite direction, that kid was bent on catching something this morning. He didn’t seem tired, though his body weight would make me guess he should be at this point – but no – he had a clear goal in mind, to catch that frigging schoolbus and nothing would stop him.

I remember being able to do that, running while not being in the greatest shape, without getting tired. The first time I went into gym class in New York was at PS 13 (elementary school) in the 5th grade. In gym there was a running contest and I remember thinking “I can win this.” I didn’t think about the fact that I had never run before (as it counts for a timed lap race) or that my classmates were basically cheetahs in disguise. I didn’t even care that there was this buzz about Ramon, the human bullet train. I felt that their chanting this name which was not mine, “Come on Ramon!” “Let’s go Ramon!” was very unfair and also added to my determination to beat his time. They didn’t care that I had this overzealous competitive drive to beat Ramon’s time, every one of them had given up on their pathetic selves and were ready to cheer Ramon on. They had no aspirations of winning, their only aspiration was to cheer on the winner who will make some sort of PS 13 history. I lost to Ramon that day and was very frustrated that not even one person noticed my determination or will.

To that little boy that I saw this morning, if you’re reading (sorry for calling you chubby) but I hope you caught that bus little man. Much respect. Stay focused.

Coming soon, to a street near you…..A 25¢ Pedestrian Rest Stop

The door to the stainless-steel box slides open, and one of New York City’s more closely guarded secrets is revealed — a self-cleaning pay toilet that will soon be coming to city streets.

After months of secrecy, city officials yesterday unveiled a prototype for the new street toilet. The prototype, which is just a model and, therefore does not flush, has been installed on a sidewalk at the Brooklyn Army Terminal, along with a matching newsstand and two bus shelters.

I didn’t know it was even possible, but you can still get a haircut in Manhattan for under 5 bucks at this barber shop located on W. 26th Street and Eighth Avenue.

From what I remember, you can also get highlights and coloring for under $20 too.

All Bright Dental is the place where Dr. Shroff makes his practice. I expect to see neon bumper stickers on his instruments there because he runs that racket like a used car parking lot.

Long story short, I was supposed to be charged 1 amount for the complete root canal treatment he promised, but instead he is charging me a different amount. He screamed out at me saying:

It would be rude of me to remind my patients about their fees every time they walked in the door!

By that he meant to say that he had warned me of how much money the treatment would cost when I first refused it for that exorbitant amount. Now, I had to shell out the extra bucks, the treatment is half done and what’s worst is I’ll probably have to go back to the bastard to finish this.

All Bright Dental is located on 263rd street and Union Turnpike in Queens, NY. Never visit. Thank you.

That must be cause they’re made from Soylent Green, right Mrs. Lovett?

Try for yourself @ ALT