So I went to a NY Giants Santa Monica Fan Club meeting at a local bar this Sunday. Wow, was it lame. There were 8 guys in a quiet bar and 1 60 year old woman wearing a Giants hat. One of the awsome fans was reading a comic book. Jessica and I were not amused. I missed going to my favorite football bar for this? After 2 Fat Tires (10am) and a few texts to The Frey it was decided we would dip at half time. I of course told a lie, something about budget season and having to go to the office......whatever, we were the hell out of there. Straight out to my favorite Football Spot on the Promenade (not that gay place Yankee Doodle for you West Side Readers - all 0 of you). Much better, it was loud I drank a bitcher of dark ass beer and cheered on the rest of the Giants' shitty ass game. As my buzz was reaching a peak I see a few of the Giants Fan Club coming into the bar staring at me. Shit. The truth, why don't I ever tell the truth! One was not amused whatssoever (Mets Jersey and yamika) while the other was like, I don't bame you bro (bald, chunky, cheery, tequila drinking Shockey Jersey wearing). After I bought a few Beam shots it was all good. Either way, stupididty sturck again.....
Monday, October 29, 2007
Dreamin' Bout Heavin' But Feel Like Hell
It's official. I am a traitor. Today I ventured into the dark depths of the California DMV. As my rent payments for my Union Square apartment (tear) are through I am officially not a New York Resident. That sucks because I feel that my NY residence made me better than the rest of the puff balls out here. I mean, I still rock the Giants Hat, drive like a madman, blast Biggie, and inevitably move the fuck back home but this is still a tough step for me.
All told, Santa Monica ran a pretty tight ship on the DMV department. Much friendlier than the New York lot at least. Only issue was that they made me take the drivers test once again. Shit, this could be complicated. Luckily I flirted with the test desk woman (think 47 year old 215lb black woma with purple fingernails longer than my tibula) and she smiled while sliding me the exam "This is the easy one sweetie....". My hospitality training and boyish good looks paid off once more. I rocked the motherfucker.