Three years later, a resolution to the legendary fake Puma blowjob ads: They were specs from a European off-shoot of Saatchi & Saatchi. And while they weren’t supposed to hit the internet, they did wonders for online store sales.
Click me for the story
What do you get when you take this...
and take a dozen bored designers with photoshop?
Why, you get this of course...
and take a dozen bored designers with photoshop?
Why, you get this of course...
$2114.36
*faints
*faints
What celebrities would be doing if they weren’t celebrities.
0 Comments Published by JKREW on at 2:39 PM.
*sigh
Click me
Baby Jessica - the toddler who captured the nation's heart when she became trapped in an abandoned well in 1987 - is now a married woman.
Jessica McClure, 19, exchanged vows yesterday with Daniel Morales, 32, at a church near Midland, Tex., People magazine reported on its Web site.
The bride, a student at Midland College, met Morales at a day-care center, where she worked with his sister, the magazine said.
McClure was just 18 months old when she tumbled into a narrow well in the backyard of her aunt's home. Scores of rescuers worked around the clock to reach the toddler, as horrified viewers around the world watched the drama unfold on television. After 58 hours, two paramedics pulled the little girl to safety.
When she turns 25, McClure will come into a trust fund - reportedly worth in excess of $1 million - made up of contributions from the public.
Click me
Baby Jessica - the toddler who captured the nation's heart when she became trapped in an abandoned well in 1987 - is now a married woman.
Jessica McClure, 19, exchanged vows yesterday with Daniel Morales, 32, at a church near Midland, Tex., People magazine reported on its Web site.
The bride, a student at Midland College, met Morales at a day-care center, where she worked with his sister, the magazine said.
McClure was just 18 months old when she tumbled into a narrow well in the backyard of her aunt's home. Scores of rescuers worked around the clock to reach the toddler, as horrified viewers around the world watched the drama unfold on television. After 58 hours, two paramedics pulled the little girl to safety.
When she turns 25, McClure will come into a trust fund - reportedly worth in excess of $1 million - made up of contributions from the public.
FUCK YOU CAT!!!
So my stepdad/dad/parent-with-the-cool car let me borrow his Mini S for a few days because Dara is getting some major work done to her innards. Now I know what you are all saying... "A mini is tugging at the heartstrings of JKREW? How could that be! A four banger!? A 1.6 litre engine? That's less than a bottle of Coke!"
Well, it's not just a normal Mini. It was owned by some gearhead before hand so it has a nice 2" catback exhaust, upgraded supercharger with a Stage 1 kit (I think) and the normal tuners K&H cold-air intake. And it fucking hauls. A little scary after the 100 mph mark but man is it smooth.
Good lord. I love that goddamn car. I thought I would never say that about a supercharged engine.
While driving it, I would definately say I think a lot in the car is overly designed for design's sake but overall, it can be a monster when properly tinkered with. I found it very hard to control at high speeds due to it's ride height and loads of air getting under the frame and pulling it all over the road ala my old jeep but with a nice 2" drop, it would essentially be a go-kart.
I would get firmer seats and a smaller steering wheel, maybe a thinner gear shift just for comfortabilities sake but other than that... mmmm. I'm getting ideas.
p.s. Bill I know guy rule #4 is never to rag out another mans car but I was safe, accelerated at a smooth and steady pace and always used my turnsignals. Thank you for letting me borrow her =)
p.p.s. If you ever have an extra 5 grand laying around, I'm sure mom would totally want this more than a new piece of jewelry...
STAGE III STREET KIT 91 OCTANE BORLA COOPER S '02-'03
Well, it's not just a normal Mini. It was owned by some gearhead before hand so it has a nice 2" catback exhaust, upgraded supercharger with a Stage 1 kit (I think) and the normal tuners K&H cold-air intake. And it fucking hauls. A little scary after the 100 mph mark but man is it smooth.
Good lord. I love that goddamn car. I thought I would never say that about a supercharged engine.
While driving it, I would definately say I think a lot in the car is overly designed for design's sake but overall, it can be a monster when properly tinkered with. I found it very hard to control at high speeds due to it's ride height and loads of air getting under the frame and pulling it all over the road ala my old jeep but with a nice 2" drop, it would essentially be a go-kart.
I would get firmer seats and a smaller steering wheel, maybe a thinner gear shift just for comfortabilities sake but other than that... mmmm. I'm getting ideas.
p.s. Bill I know guy rule #4 is never to rag out another mans car but I was safe, accelerated at a smooth and steady pace and always used my turnsignals. Thank you for letting me borrow her =)
p.p.s. If you ever have an extra 5 grand laying around, I'm sure mom would totally want this more than a new piece of jewelry...
STAGE III STREET KIT 91 OCTANE BORLA COOPER S '02-'03
Bill, as a man, i know you will understand.
2 Comments Published by JKREW on Sunday, January 29, 2006 at 7:42 PM.
• Daily Rant/Writing from me to anyone Part 1 •
My words are a drug and you're hooked on my phonics. You say you want romance? Well, she says she wants attention. And he says he wants happiness. WHAT THE FUCK? The volume on my headphones can't go up high enough. I remember HOW it used to be, WHAT it used to be, the way I used to be. But it isn't that time anymore. What happened? When did it all change?
Too many questions. Too much lack of effort on your part, too much protagonism on my part. You have beaten me down. I remember when I used to care. I remember when I would make myself sick for you. 3am? Not a problem, I'll be right over. Are you worth a week of my troubles just to see you smile? Sure, not a problem. I remember when I came up with bullshit about stars this and moon that and the world is yours if I can only give it to you. It was truth then is now just a regurgitated maneurism from which my lips spew forth to your semi-deaf ears and your cold, cold heart.
I could sleep next to you and listen to your breathing and feel your pulse against my skin and look at your closed eyes and your tusseled hair and just sigh myself to sleep. I remember when things were adventurous and I remember when whatever you said was something new to me. I remember when I would break my back for you creativly and you would feign interest and you would fake surprise and you would pretend to be floored but now it seems like I was wasting my time.
Why can't you be what I want you to be? I upheld my part of the bargain. I changed for you. I bent for you. I gave for you. Time after motherfucking time. Whenever there was compromise, it was me signing the contract. That isn't compromise, thats slavery. Why didn't this thing come to me years ago. Things would be different. The light wouldn't be too dark and I'm sure I could still see but now I can't and this thing came to me too late and now I am lost.
My feet are embedded in the earth and everytime I try to step out, I sink further. They tell me to just jump off the cliffs edge and be happy with the wings I will produce. They tell me its easy, 1-2-3 jump. Just close your eyes and jump. How hard can it be? Its pretty hard to have faith on such things that may disapoint mid fall. So up to the edge I go. I take my deep breath and prepare for my leap but I always turn back. I look around. I wait for something to grab me and take me in and tell me it will be ok but it never happens. So time after time of being let down wouldn't it be obvious to just jump? One would think so but I guess that isn't the case at this point in time.
I'm too tired now. I have no energy anymore. Thats fine. Ok. Sure. Whatever you want. I'll be right over.
My words are a drug and you're hooked on my phonics. You say you want romance? Well, she says she wants attention. And he says he wants happiness. WHAT THE FUCK? The volume on my headphones can't go up high enough. I remember HOW it used to be, WHAT it used to be, the way I used to be. But it isn't that time anymore. What happened? When did it all change?
Too many questions. Too much lack of effort on your part, too much protagonism on my part. You have beaten me down. I remember when I used to care. I remember when I would make myself sick for you. 3am? Not a problem, I'll be right over. Are you worth a week of my troubles just to see you smile? Sure, not a problem. I remember when I came up with bullshit about stars this and moon that and the world is yours if I can only give it to you. It was truth then is now just a regurgitated maneurism from which my lips spew forth to your semi-deaf ears and your cold, cold heart.
I could sleep next to you and listen to your breathing and feel your pulse against my skin and look at your closed eyes and your tusseled hair and just sigh myself to sleep. I remember when things were adventurous and I remember when whatever you said was something new to me. I remember when I would break my back for you creativly and you would feign interest and you would fake surprise and you would pretend to be floored but now it seems like I was wasting my time.
Why can't you be what I want you to be? I upheld my part of the bargain. I changed for you. I bent for you. I gave for you. Time after motherfucking time. Whenever there was compromise, it was me signing the contract. That isn't compromise, thats slavery. Why didn't this thing come to me years ago. Things would be different. The light wouldn't be too dark and I'm sure I could still see but now I can't and this thing came to me too late and now I am lost.
My feet are embedded in the earth and everytime I try to step out, I sink further. They tell me to just jump off the cliffs edge and be happy with the wings I will produce. They tell me its easy, 1-2-3 jump. Just close your eyes and jump. How hard can it be? Its pretty hard to have faith on such things that may disapoint mid fall. So up to the edge I go. I take my deep breath and prepare for my leap but I always turn back. I look around. I wait for something to grab me and take me in and tell me it will be ok but it never happens. So time after time of being let down wouldn't it be obvious to just jump? One would think so but I guess that isn't the case at this point in time.
I'm too tired now. I have no energy anymore. Thats fine. Ok. Sure. Whatever you want. I'll be right over.
Fuck. Already 10pm. How did time escape me like it did? Tonight of all nights. I hear through the walls; the laughter, the screaming, the tussle and bustle of strewn beer caps against the hardwood floors. I look up to see the powerlight on my turntable casting the red glow across the platter markers. No problem, the record is only halfway through. God bless dub plates. I crawl across the floor to rotate the volume knob clockwise. The bass notes now drown out the festivities happening only 12 feet away through cinderblock and wooden walls.
My back is to her when she enters the room. I hear the creak of the door and the "thunk" of the top right corner finally letting go to the door frame because it has been painted far too many times. But I keep my back turned. I can feel the think carpet give way to her 100 pound frame slowly trying to creep. She presses the cold sweaty beer bottle against the back of my neck. I flinch but then press against the glass to cool myself off. I turn around still on my knees and take the bottle with a smile, down a sip and place it on top of the table behind me. I then lunge forward, grab her by the waist and pull her toward me. She falls onto me pushing me back on the ground. As she puts out her arms to support herself, her hair falls over her face onto mine. I don't think I will ever forget how she smelled when she would do this to me. Thick black hair that smelled of jasmine and ocean air. It was always cold to the touch for some reason. Each strand falling over my closed eyes as I would bring in large sighs of air through my nose taking in the scent with a soft smile.
"Are you ready? You have a lot of catching up to do" she said with a laugh.
"Yeah, two more boxes and I will be done." I replied.
"Okay, do you mind if I just curl up and take a quick nap?"
"Sure. Just sleep. When I'm done, I will hop in the shower and get ready", I finished.
She leaned towards me and kissed my lower lip with closed eyes and hoped up with a smile. She walked over to the bed, sunk under the down comforter and closed her eyes as I lay there with a smile looking at the ceiling. I finished finding a place for my belongings in their respective boxes and grabbed the last few items of clothing I had placed out earlier.
Turning the faucet lever for one of the last times, I waited for warmth and then stepped into the marble tub. Arching my back and tipping my head towards the ceiling, I thought of how I would miss this place. The friends, the ocean, the air and the calm whisper of the ocean waves crashing to the shores only minutes away from my bedroom window at night. She would be gone tomorrow. They would be left behind tomorrow. And so would my past. It would be left here with part of my life that just wasn't needed but surely wanted. A time that I knew would pull me to places I didn't want to go to anymore. Behind me was happiness and in front of me was the unknown. A new city, a new job, new triumphs and even newer fears. But for the first time in my life, I was ready to step into the darkness to greet things I had never met before.
Dressed, warm and happy. I walked into the room to see nothing but moonlight grace her skin. the windows were wide and open. The cotton drapes were now flowing and pushed apart by the breeze. The waves were louder now because of the full moon. Car noises were competing with the waves and losing. I walked over to her to bend over and greet her forehead with my lips. Skin against skin for a brief second as her eyes opened to meet mine. A smile crept up on her face as she took in a deep breath and kissed me again.
"Good sleep?" I said.
She sighed, "Yeah. You smell like soap. Smells good."
"Ready?"
"Sure."
My back is to her when she enters the room. I hear the creak of the door and the "thunk" of the top right corner finally letting go to the door frame because it has been painted far too many times. But I keep my back turned. I can feel the think carpet give way to her 100 pound frame slowly trying to creep. She presses the cold sweaty beer bottle against the back of my neck. I flinch but then press against the glass to cool myself off. I turn around still on my knees and take the bottle with a smile, down a sip and place it on top of the table behind me. I then lunge forward, grab her by the waist and pull her toward me. She falls onto me pushing me back on the ground. As she puts out her arms to support herself, her hair falls over her face onto mine. I don't think I will ever forget how she smelled when she would do this to me. Thick black hair that smelled of jasmine and ocean air. It was always cold to the touch for some reason. Each strand falling over my closed eyes as I would bring in large sighs of air through my nose taking in the scent with a soft smile.
"Are you ready? You have a lot of catching up to do" she said with a laugh.
"Yeah, two more boxes and I will be done." I replied.
"Okay, do you mind if I just curl up and take a quick nap?"
"Sure. Just sleep. When I'm done, I will hop in the shower and get ready", I finished.
She leaned towards me and kissed my lower lip with closed eyes and hoped up with a smile. She walked over to the bed, sunk under the down comforter and closed her eyes as I lay there with a smile looking at the ceiling. I finished finding a place for my belongings in their respective boxes and grabbed the last few items of clothing I had placed out earlier.
Turning the faucet lever for one of the last times, I waited for warmth and then stepped into the marble tub. Arching my back and tipping my head towards the ceiling, I thought of how I would miss this place. The friends, the ocean, the air and the calm whisper of the ocean waves crashing to the shores only minutes away from my bedroom window at night. She would be gone tomorrow. They would be left behind tomorrow. And so would my past. It would be left here with part of my life that just wasn't needed but surely wanted. A time that I knew would pull me to places I didn't want to go to anymore. Behind me was happiness and in front of me was the unknown. A new city, a new job, new triumphs and even newer fears. But for the first time in my life, I was ready to step into the darkness to greet things I had never met before.
Dressed, warm and happy. I walked into the room to see nothing but moonlight grace her skin. the windows were wide and open. The cotton drapes were now flowing and pushed apart by the breeze. The waves were louder now because of the full moon. Car noises were competing with the waves and losing. I walked over to her to bend over and greet her forehead with my lips. Skin against skin for a brief second as her eyes opened to meet mine. A smile crept up on her face as she took in a deep breath and kissed me again.
"Good sleep?" I said.
She sighed, "Yeah. You smell like soap. Smells good."
"Ready?"
"Sure."
Buy tickets.
Click me
Am I still old to rave? Is it ok that I saw them at my first rave back in 93? Man, I don't want to be that guy at the show.
*sigh
Click me
Am I still old to rave? Is it ok that I saw them at my first rave back in 93? Man, I don't want to be that guy at the show.
*sigh
Meet Kohaku. He is 24.5" long.
He costs $7000. American dollars.
This is a 5 year old jumbo sized chagoi measuring 32 inches. He isn't for sale but the breeder hopes it to grow over 40" in less than a year. It was awarded a citation of perfection in Japan.
I need to seriously get a bigger house for these stupid hobbies of mine.
*sigh
If someone takes the time to write you a letter, would it fucking kill you to write them back? It's just common curtesy. You would be surpised at how many people in today's day and age who see themselves as somewhat civilized yet, in reality, have no social graces whatsoever.
Heathens.
Heathens.
who knew that years later we would end up making out like crazy?
This is like 6 months old but god damnit if it doesn't make me smile each and every time I see it.
Click me
Click me
My friends conversation with her BF...
2:53:44 PM herobynight: I'm bringing new soap, I'm in need of a soap change in your apartment
2:53:51 PM ryn: you have two bars here
2:53:54 PM ryn: TWO BARS
2:53:57 PM ryn: no more soap
2:54:01 PM ryn: please
2:54:04 PM ryn: *whimpers
2:54:41 PM herobynight: one bar is all old
2:54:43 PM herobynight: I'll throw it out
2:54:46 PM herobynight: and use this new one
2:54:52 PM ryn: why?
2:55:00 PM herobynight: because it's old and I want a fresh one
2:55:00 PM ryn: soap doesn't get old
2:55:07 PM ryn: it's not slimy
2:55:44 PM ryn: you're insane
2:55:49 PM ryn: it's perfectly good soap
2:53:44 PM herobynight: I'm bringing new soap, I'm in need of a soap change in your apartment
2:53:51 PM ryn: you have two bars here
2:53:54 PM ryn: TWO BARS
2:53:57 PM ryn: no more soap
2:54:01 PM ryn: please
2:54:04 PM ryn: *whimpers
2:54:41 PM herobynight: one bar is all old
2:54:43 PM herobynight: I'll throw it out
2:54:46 PM herobynight: and use this new one
2:54:52 PM ryn: why?
2:55:00 PM herobynight: because it's old and I want a fresh one
2:55:00 PM ryn: soap doesn't get old
2:55:07 PM ryn: it's not slimy
2:55:44 PM ryn: you're insane
2:55:49 PM ryn: it's perfectly good soap
Bored baby? Fun stuff to make you more of an artistically productive human being.
www.learningtoloveyoumore.com
Look! Tiny!
www.storiesfromspace.co.uk
Stoner Dave! Look!
www.storiesfromspace.co.uk/mossgraffiti
Be a consumer!
www.cribcandy.com
Be a learner!
www.supernaturale.com
Be a rocker!
www.stereogum.com
www.learningtoloveyoumore.com
Look! Tiny!
www.storiesfromspace.co.uk
Stoner Dave! Look!
www.storiesfromspace.co.uk/mossgraffiti
Be a consumer!
www.cribcandy.com
Be a learner!
www.supernaturale.com
Be a rocker!
www.stereogum.com
Check out my friend's MS music page.
I used to work with him so although this is a shameless plug for a buddy, I really don't post shite. He is just as good a composer/producer/writer/player as he is a graphic designer and I hate him for it =)
There are just some people out there who are quite gifted at everything they sink their teeth into.
It has been brought to our attention that the last sentence in this post, accompanied by the post preceeding it, is in poor taste. From all of us at JKREW Corp. , we offer you our sincerest apologies.
I used to work with him so although this is a shameless plug for a buddy, I really don't post shite. He is just as good a composer/producer/writer/player as he is a graphic designer and I hate him for it =)
There are just some people out there who are quite gifted at everything they sink their teeth into.
It has been brought to our attention that the last sentence in this post, accompanied by the post preceeding it, is in poor taste. From all of us at JKREW Corp. , we offer you our sincerest apologies.
Just finished my moms site. Go there and spend your money for a good cause or you will get a proper arse kicking.
TELL YOUR FRIENDS!
Thanks!
http://www.crittersforthecure.com/
sorry if there are bugs, I'm still debugging =)
TELL YOUR FRIENDS!
Thanks!
http://www.crittersforthecure.com/
sorry if there are bugs, I'm still debugging =)
A friend of mine was dabbling with the idea of growing a pot plant from seed. Not to smoke or sell but just to see if he could do it. One of those, challenges for challenges sake type of things. Why not make a conversation piece you know? Just to see if people recognize the plant as one of those "forbidden fruits" in american culture sitting in your living room.
Did you know that growing a male marjuana plant is legal in the states while growing a female one isn't? Did you know that in Denmark, it is legal to have one bud-giving plant per household? It's also legal to buy seeds yet illegal to grow but going back to the first fact, if you just so happen to find a male plant growing in your backyard, it is legal to keep it and take care of it and possibly giving it a proper Christian name.
Now, I'm sure most of you are saying, "Dude, wtf? When did you go stoner on us? How can you possibly know all of that unless you are a total hippy."
Well, I like to get the facts before my friends and/or myself do something dumb that could possibly throw us in the pen. I'm not stupid. I'm not saying I don't do stupid things but usually when I do, I thought it out beforehand and was ok with the risks being taken as well as the possible penalties if I got busted i.e. Street racing, hoping a fence to go swimming, killing a hooker etc etc.
So anyhoo, back to my friend. Let's call him "Jason". "Jason" has a girlfriend who has a family member who has a security clearance (who doesn't nowadays, big whup). "Jason's" girlfriend's sister IM's him and pretty much says "Hey dude, don't grow a pot plant because daddy has a security clearance and if you get busted, "he will be fucked", which turned into, "we will be fucked", which turned into "I will be fucked."
Ahhh, now I get it. "Don't do that thing because it could affect my best interests." Now it's clear. Dude, my clearance is higher than your clearance. Piss off. Stop being so paranoid.
Now, to my point... There was a man who had a clearance. It provided him with a good paying job. Good enough to support a family of 6, all on his paycheck. Obviously it was a good gig and he didn't want it getting fucked so the rule of forbiddance was created from the heavens.
"THOU SHALT NOT FUCK UP WHICH WILL IN TURN FUCK ME UP! KAPICHE?"
So, through the years, this rule was beaten into the families heads so much that they, in turn, became scared, paranoid borgs. Sad really.
"Man, I better not stay out late or the cops will find me and it will ruin my dads clearance."
"Man, I better not smoke that cigarette or lie or forget to wipe my ass or date that guy who cheated on a test in the 2nd grade or the feds will bust dad and then we will lose EVERYTHING."
FUCKING BRILLIANT. Honestly, if I didn't have a heart, I would implement this rule to my future kids and simply sit back and watch as my neurotic children wouldn't break a single law for the rest of their lives just to keep my hypothetical "easily taken away" clearance nice and shiny.
So, whilst I ramble on and on about this current bit of life drama®, I come to a conclusion... Stop living someone else's plan for you. Honestly, do what you want. You are a big boy/girl now. You don't have to follow any rules you don't want to follow. Granted, some rules are pretty smartly planned out, i.e. Don't kill, don't steal, don't sing country et al but honestly, if you live in fear all of your life, you will one day at the ripe age of 82, realise just how poor and dull a life you have lead.
Take a breath, smoke a joint, drink till you puke, tell an occasional lie, break a law. It's part of growing up and learning what is right and wrong. Take it from my mom... She busted her ass trying to teach me what was right and wrong but honestly, sometimes, you just have to figure some shit out yourself and it might just possibly take you falling on your ass a few times to do so. Stop living in fear. Be prepared (and proud) to say "Fuck you. I don't need you. Stop holding your power over my head."
"Time to cut the apron strings," my grandmother always said.
Did you know that growing a male marjuana plant is legal in the states while growing a female one isn't? Did you know that in Denmark, it is legal to have one bud-giving plant per household? It's also legal to buy seeds yet illegal to grow but going back to the first fact, if you just so happen to find a male plant growing in your backyard, it is legal to keep it and take care of it and possibly giving it a proper Christian name.
Now, I'm sure most of you are saying, "Dude, wtf? When did you go stoner on us? How can you possibly know all of that unless you are a total hippy."
Well, I like to get the facts before my friends and/or myself do something dumb that could possibly throw us in the pen. I'm not stupid. I'm not saying I don't do stupid things but usually when I do, I thought it out beforehand and was ok with the risks being taken as well as the possible penalties if I got busted i.e. Street racing, hoping a fence to go swimming, killing a hooker etc etc.
So anyhoo, back to my friend. Let's call him "Jason". "Jason" has a girlfriend who has a family member who has a security clearance (who doesn't nowadays, big whup). "Jason's" girlfriend's sister IM's him and pretty much says "Hey dude, don't grow a pot plant because daddy has a security clearance and if you get busted, "he will be fucked", which turned into, "we will be fucked", which turned into "I will be fucked."
Ahhh, now I get it. "Don't do that thing because it could affect my best interests." Now it's clear. Dude, my clearance is higher than your clearance. Piss off. Stop being so paranoid.
Now, to my point... There was a man who had a clearance. It provided him with a good paying job. Good enough to support a family of 6, all on his paycheck. Obviously it was a good gig and he didn't want it getting fucked so the rule of forbiddance was created from the heavens.
"THOU SHALT NOT FUCK UP WHICH WILL IN TURN FUCK ME UP! KAPICHE?"
So, through the years, this rule was beaten into the families heads so much that they, in turn, became scared, paranoid borgs. Sad really.
"Man, I better not stay out late or the cops will find me and it will ruin my dads clearance."
"Man, I better not smoke that cigarette or lie or forget to wipe my ass or date that guy who cheated on a test in the 2nd grade or the feds will bust dad and then we will lose EVERYTHING."
FUCKING BRILLIANT. Honestly, if I didn't have a heart, I would implement this rule to my future kids and simply sit back and watch as my neurotic children wouldn't break a single law for the rest of their lives just to keep my hypothetical "easily taken away" clearance nice and shiny.
So, whilst I ramble on and on about this current bit of life drama®, I come to a conclusion... Stop living someone else's plan for you. Honestly, do what you want. You are a big boy/girl now. You don't have to follow any rules you don't want to follow. Granted, some rules are pretty smartly planned out, i.e. Don't kill, don't steal, don't sing country et al but honestly, if you live in fear all of your life, you will one day at the ripe age of 82, realise just how poor and dull a life you have lead.
Take a breath, smoke a joint, drink till you puke, tell an occasional lie, break a law. It's part of growing up and learning what is right and wrong. Take it from my mom... She busted her ass trying to teach me what was right and wrong but honestly, sometimes, you just have to figure some shit out yourself and it might just possibly take you falling on your ass a few times to do so. Stop living in fear. Be prepared (and proud) to say "Fuck you. I don't need you. Stop holding your power over my head."
"Time to cut the apron strings," my grandmother always said.
Dave@Work277: hows that work job going over there?
jkrewdotcom: haha so when k8 and I were in NYC this weekend, we went to this bootleg store in chinatown and got some imported movies. One being this movie Three Extremes (link on my blog). Anyways, we didn't know that it was a series of horror movies and the "Three Extremes" is like a "Tales from the Crypt" title and the real title is whats after the "Three Extremes"
Dave@Work277: oh?
jkrewdotcom:anyways, we saw 3-4 different versions of what we thought was one movie in the store so I just picked the coolest looking cover and bought it. Turns out it's this fucking hardcore porn movie and i just found that fact out at work...
in front of 4 coworkers. Wheeee!
jkrewdotcom: haha so when k8 and I were in NYC this weekend, we went to this bootleg store in chinatown and got some imported movies. One being this movie Three Extremes (link on my blog). Anyways, we didn't know that it was a series of horror movies and the "Three Extremes" is like a "Tales from the Crypt" title and the real title is whats after the "Three Extremes"
Dave@Work277: oh?
jkrewdotcom:anyways, we saw 3-4 different versions of what we thought was one movie in the store so I just picked the coolest looking cover and bought it. Turns out it's this fucking hardcore porn movie and i just found that fact out at work...
in front of 4 coworkers. Wheeee!
What a fantastic weekend. I was woken by a bouncing kate on my bed while I was sleeping with my face buried in the pillow. I guess I didn't drink enough water the night prior because I had a slight headache. What turned into an early wake up call turned into lazy spooning and assorted playing and a much needed tandem shower. *insert smirk here*
"Ok lets go!" we shouted as we hoped in the car.
"Speedpass?" "Check!"
"Umbrella?" "Check!"
We hit the highway with empty bellies. I decided to forgo my morning Starfucks ritual with the sole intent of picking up Balthazar as soon as I got into the city. We stopped at Maryland House along the way on the highway and got Roy Rogers..... Mmm, Roy Rogers. Ok, back on the road with you!
Kate drove, I slept, it rained. A lot. "We are still going to have fun regardless of the weather right?"
"Um, duh."
We got through the Holland Tunnel with relative ease and found our normal parking spot. "Come on! Let's go! Wait, you just poked me AGAIN in the head with your dumb umbrella!"
"Hahahaha sorry! I suck at umbrellas!"
It was so dark and rainy and depressing but I was so surprised at how much fun I was having. We played around in Pearl River picking up CHEAP asian pots for future flowery children. Got some lucky cats for the collection and we were on our way. More rain. Lots of laughing. Soaking pant legs, lots of splashing and yelling at tourists. Mmmmmmmmm, Balthazar. So good. Liquid crack, how I missed you.
Now, this one time, for reasons unknown, we collectively walked straight past all of the bootlegged goodness that is Canal st. Keeping east, we rested under an awning for the light to change and then we were off to the deeper realms of chinatown. The parts that no white person ventures. Now I know the OG Chinatown is in Brooklyn but well, we were trying to keep it real without catching the J, M or Z.
Anyways, we ventured down this alley of a street and found all of these random antique/pottery stores and I of course gave some of my hard-earned duckets back to the chinese government. Onwards and upwards, we decided that the dual umbrella route wasn't working so we changed our technique to a single unit which worked out smashingly.
We made it to the base of the Bklyn bridge and saw a Buddhist temple across the street so we walked warily over to check things out. "I'll go in if you go in." "I'm not going in, you go in." "Fine, let's go. If I get shot or kung-fu'd I'm going to be pissed."
We walked in, checked for visual confirmation from the worker there that we were welcome and with her wave, we walked to the large back room to see the massive 2-story Buddha (with lipstick?) in front of us. We sat down and just watched as people prayed in front of us. For a awkwardly garish room, it was quite beautiful and calming.
Back down the street we walked past a VCD store with boots and imports and when Battle Royale II caught my eye, we simply had to go in. I found my region 3 DVD as kate found The Three Extremes so we snatched that up too.
Back to the train that I took everyday while working for the Attik back in the day. Spring to 87th. 1/2 a block to the neon-lit meca that was Papaya King.
"Like a sirloin in a bun®!"
#3 for kate, #5 for me. I waited to see kate's expression as she bit into her chili dog and blowing out hot air in the cold store. She closed her eyes and with a full mouth she spoke, "Yeah, this is the best dog I have ever had."
"Yeah, told you so."
We walked back to the train, and while we were riding I thought to myself how happy I was with her. My last time in NYC for an extended stay left such a sour taste in my mouth that it kept me from visiting this wonderful city for so long. I am so glad that the day happened the way it did and made me fall in love once again.
Even through 14 inches of rain, a blizzard, an entire fire department on broadway, scary chinese creepazoids on the street, thugs on the 6 train and 134 mph winds, I wouldn't have had it any other way.
"Ok lets go!" we shouted as we hoped in the car.
"Speedpass?" "Check!"
"Umbrella?" "Check!"
We hit the highway with empty bellies. I decided to forgo my morning Starfucks ritual with the sole intent of picking up Balthazar as soon as I got into the city. We stopped at Maryland House along the way on the highway and got Roy Rogers..... Mmm, Roy Rogers. Ok, back on the road with you!
Kate drove, I slept, it rained. A lot. "We are still going to have fun regardless of the weather right?"
"Um, duh."
We got through the Holland Tunnel with relative ease and found our normal parking spot. "Come on! Let's go! Wait, you just poked me AGAIN in the head with your dumb umbrella!"
"Hahahaha sorry! I suck at umbrellas!"
It was so dark and rainy and depressing but I was so surprised at how much fun I was having. We played around in Pearl River picking up CHEAP asian pots for future flowery children. Got some lucky cats for the collection and we were on our way. More rain. Lots of laughing. Soaking pant legs, lots of splashing and yelling at tourists. Mmmmmmmmm, Balthazar. So good. Liquid crack, how I missed you.
Now, this one time, for reasons unknown, we collectively walked straight past all of the bootlegged goodness that is Canal st. Keeping east, we rested under an awning for the light to change and then we were off to the deeper realms of chinatown. The parts that no white person ventures. Now I know the OG Chinatown is in Brooklyn but well, we were trying to keep it real without catching the J, M or Z.
Anyways, we ventured down this alley of a street and found all of these random antique/pottery stores and I of course gave some of my hard-earned duckets back to the chinese government. Onwards and upwards, we decided that the dual umbrella route wasn't working so we changed our technique to a single unit which worked out smashingly.
We made it to the base of the Bklyn bridge and saw a Buddhist temple across the street so we walked warily over to check things out. "I'll go in if you go in." "I'm not going in, you go in." "Fine, let's go. If I get shot or kung-fu'd I'm going to be pissed."
We walked in, checked for visual confirmation from the worker there that we were welcome and with her wave, we walked to the large back room to see the massive 2-story Buddha (with lipstick?) in front of us. We sat down and just watched as people prayed in front of us. For a awkwardly garish room, it was quite beautiful and calming.
Back down the street we walked past a VCD store with boots and imports and when Battle Royale II caught my eye, we simply had to go in. I found my region 3 DVD as kate found The Three Extremes so we snatched that up too.
Back to the train that I took everyday while working for the Attik back in the day. Spring to 87th. 1/2 a block to the neon-lit meca that was Papaya King.
"Like a sirloin in a bun®!"
#3 for kate, #5 for me. I waited to see kate's expression as she bit into her chili dog and blowing out hot air in the cold store. She closed her eyes and with a full mouth she spoke, "Yeah, this is the best dog I have ever had."
"Yeah, told you so."
We walked back to the train, and while we were riding I thought to myself how happy I was with her. My last time in NYC for an extended stay left such a sour taste in my mouth that it kept me from visiting this wonderful city for so long. I am so glad that the day happened the way it did and made me fall in love once again.
Even through 14 inches of rain, a blizzard, an entire fire department on broadway, scary chinese creepazoids on the street, thugs on the 6 train and 134 mph winds, I wouldn't have had it any other way.
It's funny because it's me...
1 Comments Published by JKREW on Friday, January 13, 2006 at 11:26 AM.
Best god damn bagel and cream cheese I have eaten in my entire life.
I have no idea why I blogged about this but it was fairly substantial in my daily life today so there you go.
I have no idea why I blogged about this but it was fairly substantial in my daily life today so there you go.
Mental Note: Fix Dara next weekend
1 Comments Published by JKREW on Wednesday, January 11, 2006 at 11:37 AM.
Please, someone give me some drugs to make me sleep for the next month. It's a wonder to me that the human body can survive on 12 hours of sleep in the past 6 days.
I'm going to crash soon. I can feel it coming.
I slipped on the escalator today and creamed my hip. I think I chipped it. I slept on the train. Sitting up.
Dara is not happy. I think she has a bad valve and a dying head gasket.
Well on a good note, my dinner last night was 2.5 pieces of cold pizza and a glass of water.
I'm so far beyond coffee right now. I laugh at coffee's inability to do it's job.
I'm gonna kick the shit out of NYC this weekend. I don't care if the entire country of Iraq decides to bomb Manhattan, I'm going. I'm buying 2 Papaya King dogs, getting my large skim latte from Balthazar and sitting on a random stoop on Broadway and simply enjoy my meal.
I'm doing that even if it kills me.
I'm going to crash soon. I can feel it coming.
I slipped on the escalator today and creamed my hip. I think I chipped it. I slept on the train. Sitting up.
Dara is not happy. I think she has a bad valve and a dying head gasket.
Well on a good note, my dinner last night was 2.5 pieces of cold pizza and a glass of water.
I'm so far beyond coffee right now. I laugh at coffee's inability to do it's job.
I'm gonna kick the shit out of NYC this weekend. I don't care if the entire country of Iraq decides to bomb Manhattan, I'm going. I'm buying 2 Papaya King dogs, getting my large skim latte from Balthazar and sitting on a random stoop on Broadway and simply enjoy my meal.
I'm doing that even if it kills me.
how when I get near the end of Lost in Translation I get scared out of my mind because what I see is not what I want but then I get somewhat relieved when I remember you will be near my side.
Anyone will tell you that on the surface, I have shite taste and I eat shite food BUT I will tell you that if you eat with me long enough, you will realise the method to my madness.
You will understand that chicken nuggets when you are sick is like a 10-piece box of Robitussin. I can tell you how to make Ramen taste like Kobe beef. I can make Swiss Steak that is doing the backstroke in gravy and you will LOVE it. They make kosher hotdogs with nacho cheese in the center and it will be the best hotdog you will ever have and I know the only supermarket in Virginia that sells them. I can tell you where you can get 10 pounds of greek food for under 6 bucks and I bet it will be the best herb-roasted chicken you will ever have.
You will find out that I know EVERY single hole in the wall piece of shit restaurant in the tri-state area that serves food 150 times better than anything you can purchase through a Zagat survey. AND it will be cheaper than 10 bucks per meal.
You will try to understand that I hate complex meals at expensive restaurants for a reason. Now, when it all boils down to it, I eat food to keep me alive. I know that there is no reason to spend 100 dollars on a meal when it is going to have the same outcome as that $2 hamburger in the end. Kate on the other hand attests to the fact that going to a nice french restaurant and dropping a few house notes on engorged goose liver and other dishes I have no buisness pronouncing is a good thing. I am slowly turning her to the JKREW side. (Although she has taught me a thing or two in their own right.)
So to you food snobs, I turn up my nose to you. Go ahead and make your reservations 6 months in advance. Get dressed up to get shite service, be greeted by a maitre d' that treats you like a red-headed stepchild and pay a days salary for your meal. I will be in a flourescent-lit restaurant with a minimum of two TV's on at the same time, eating food that literally makes me close my eyes and smile; all the while wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, looking across the table and seeing that my baby has so much food in her mouth that she can't smile and chew at the same time.
Oh and you all do know that The Melting Pot is melted cheese and vegetables on sticks right? You know you are paying to do something that you used to do at camp for free right? Ok, just checking.
You will understand that chicken nuggets when you are sick is like a 10-piece box of Robitussin. I can tell you how to make Ramen taste like Kobe beef. I can make Swiss Steak that is doing the backstroke in gravy and you will LOVE it. They make kosher hotdogs with nacho cheese in the center and it will be the best hotdog you will ever have and I know the only supermarket in Virginia that sells them. I can tell you where you can get 10 pounds of greek food for under 6 bucks and I bet it will be the best herb-roasted chicken you will ever have.
You will find out that I know EVERY single hole in the wall piece of shit restaurant in the tri-state area that serves food 150 times better than anything you can purchase through a Zagat survey. AND it will be cheaper than 10 bucks per meal.
You will try to understand that I hate complex meals at expensive restaurants for a reason. Now, when it all boils down to it, I eat food to keep me alive. I know that there is no reason to spend 100 dollars on a meal when it is going to have the same outcome as that $2 hamburger in the end. Kate on the other hand attests to the fact that going to a nice french restaurant and dropping a few house notes on engorged goose liver and other dishes I have no buisness pronouncing is a good thing. I am slowly turning her to the JKREW side. (Although she has taught me a thing or two in their own right.)
So to you food snobs, I turn up my nose to you. Go ahead and make your reservations 6 months in advance. Get dressed up to get shite service, be greeted by a maitre d' that treats you like a red-headed stepchild and pay a days salary for your meal. I will be in a flourescent-lit restaurant with a minimum of two TV's on at the same time, eating food that literally makes me close my eyes and smile; all the while wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, looking across the table and seeing that my baby has so much food in her mouth that she can't smile and chew at the same time.
Oh and you all do know that The Melting Pot is melted cheese and vegetables on sticks right? You know you are paying to do something that you used to do at camp for free right? Ok, just checking.