A Day In My Life
I thought today I’d give you a little glimpse into a day of my life. Here are pictures and captions from what I did the entire day last Saturday.
11:07AM: Get out of bed, piss, get some green tea and go to the computer. I first turn on Woody Radio to listen to DJ Gidget and “Boris’” Secret Weapon show on Woody Radio.
11:10AM: Start checking out blogs, news and porn other things online. Here I’m leaving a comment on Shawn Chittle's photo on EV Grieve.
2:43PM: (Yes I was online surfing for over three hours, you got a problem with that?) Floss, brush teeth and take my pills. Vitamin E, Heart Savior, Milk Thistle, fish oil and a low-dose aspirin.
4:01PM: Shower time! (Gap in time due to a phone call from a friend.)
4:12PM: Glance at photo I bought from Goggla which hangs in my bathroom. You can get one of your own, right here!
4:45PM: Out and about!
4:51PM: Mailing John Travolta postcards to Wendy Vee. She was the only to email me and ask for a postcard, so I’m sending her two. Lots more left if anyone wants one!
4:55PM: Okay, this is something I’ve been obsessing over for years. The seven day week and staying open late banks. For years banks had it made. They opened at something like nine in the morning and then closed around four in the afternoon, Monday through Friday. If they were open on Saturdays, it was usually from nine to noon. Sundays? Forget about it, closed! For decades they had easy-ass hours and on one cared or complained, it’s just the way it was. People even joked about working “banker hours” if you left work early. Banks had it made until a place called (I believe, it’s been a while) Commerce Bank opened up and announced they would be open seven days a week. And they’d be open till around seven at night. What the fuck kind of thinking is that? Let’s take an easy schedule that no one is complaining about and fuck it all up. And then every other fucking bank had to toe the line and open up seven fucking days a week. I personally believe this was the start of the economic crisis. Bankers got pissed and decided to fuck us all up the ass. And that’s exactly what they’ve done. Thanks Commerce Bank...thanks for ruining America! You bumble-fucked pieces of shit on a shingle!
5:20PM: (Yes, I stood and obsessed over that bank sign for about fifteen minutes, I’m not even going to admit how many times I’ve done this.) Powerball tickets! This blog may not be posted if I win. (I lost. Fuck.)
5:31PM: Obligatory school bus mirror shot!
5:40PM: Okay, time to get some supplies for dinner. I feel like creating a sandwich, let’s see what I can find in here.
6:17PM: Back home and time to start cooking!
6:20PM: Here’s what I got: A cheese slicer, cheddar chipotle cheese, lettuce, an bakery fresh onion bun, a half pound of fresh Hebrew National bologna, Kettle potato chips and a Junior mini cheesecake for dessert. I thought I’d make a fried bologna and cheese sandwich, I haven’t had one of those in decades and now I’m dying to eat one. Time to get this show on the road!
6:26PM: But first things first, we need a little fuel to start cooking!
6:45PM: Okay, the bologna is frying up nicely...
6:50PM: And the onion bun’s are toasted with the cheese melted on top of them. Things are looking and smelling good! Time to put this all together.
6:56PM: Okay the toasted onion and cheese buns are topped with pepper and spicy mustard.
6:58PM: Now we add the fried bologna...
7:00PM: And here’s the meal with the chips on the side.
7:02PM: Delicious!
7:10PM: Well I wolfed that down quickly, now it’s time to do the dishes.
7:15PM: All clean on the Western Front...holy shitballs...are you seeing what I’m seeing...my sink is a freaking Cardboard Box Man Mutation...aaaahhh!
7:20PM: Okay, we’re safe out here, I may never go home again!
7:28PM: I was hoping that the town would empty out, seeing it’s a holiday weekend, but the sidewalks are packed here on St. Mark’s and they’re all slow walkers. Motherfucker, I need a beer or nine.
7:39PM: I was going to stop in at the Grassroots Tavern, but it was jam-packed. Time to keep moving.
7:43PM: Exactlyodo, Quasimodo, to quote John Prine.
7:51PM: Ah, the Coal Yard bar, one of my favorites! Let’s check it out!
7:53PM: Nice and dark and plenty of room at the bar, perfect!
7:59PM: And here’s Danielle, the friendly and pretty bartender, I’ve tried to get her photo in the past, but she politely declined. Finally she relented. If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again, unless you’re served with a restraining order!
8:12PM: I love the bar and the lit up bottles behind it. It’s a perfect Al bar, dark, great jukebox and no TV’s (sorry, Gene!)
9:07PM: Toilet time!
9:10PM: Lita Ford fan alert!
10:34PM: Okay, several beers later, it’s time for a final glance out the neon-lit window and back out on the road.
10:37PM: And awaaay we go!
10:44PM: Check out the idiots lined up at Artichoke for a slice of pizza. It’s only pizza people, not worth waiting in line for an hour!
10:51PM: Here we are on 14th Street, getting ready to encounter a trifecta of shame and vulgarity, all on one block.
10:52PM: Subway...
10:53PM: Two doors down...7-Eleven...
10:54PM: And the icing on this trilogy of chain terror...IHOP. What the fuck does “IHOP” even mean? Well, I’m not going to stand here and try to figure it out, I’m starting to feel sick, let’s just move on.
11:02PM: A shot from Union Square Park. I’m close to home and I might as well go home. It’s kind of silly to be scared of your own sink, crazy how your imagination can get away from you!
11:16PM: Home sweet...aaaahhhhh!
Coal Yard Bar
102 First Avenue (Near 6th Street)
212-677-4595
Further Reading: Chickens In The Road, New York Magazine and EV Grieve.
I read the news today, oh boy.
Surprise link, click on it...I dare you!
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Bonus Illustration From Jaws!
Jaws the Cabbie sent in this illustration to go along with his comment. Ha ha ha! Thanks Jaws!
Cardboard Box Men, Coal Yard Bar, Fried Bologna Sandwich Posted on Monday, September 3, 2012 at 11:14AM 
