Category: Writing

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‘Twas the Night Before Christmas in Brooklyn

‘Twas the Night before Christmas, when all through the building,

There was only the sound of silence and an empty feeling,

The homemade leather stockings were hung with love and care,

You could also find them on Etsy for a price that was both reasonable and fair,

The hipsters were fast asleep in their ironic race car beds,

While visions of mustache-bikes and bands no one has heard of yet, break danced  and twerked in their heads,

The foodies tried to sleep but of course they were wide awake,

so they YELPED about a shitty breakfast and Instagrammed red velvet cupcakes,

The professionals were long gone, away on a vacation,

Spending what you and I pay in rent, just to arrive at the destination,

They tried to sleep but insomnia was the trend,

Especially when they forgot to pack a week’s supply of their sleep-crutch I mean Ambien,

No DJ’s were mixing, no punks were garbage-sifting,

‘Twas just me in my apartment, drinking eggnog and think-a-linking,

All the people were gone, and that was more than alright,

For the first time since I moved to New York, I might just have my first silent night.

 

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One Last Dance

I started @TonightOnGirls due to a series of bizarre coincidences. I never expected it to gather any sort of following. I’m proud of it. I like to believe it’s some of my best writing. 99 jokes may not seem like much but I’m still proud it. And to the people who follow it, you have helped me make it through some really rough days and nights with your responses. I’m eternally grateful for every star, fav, RT, or positive word that’s been spoken or written about it. That being said, I want to go out on top, so I will end the feed at the end of this third season of GIRLS.

Some people have referred to it as a parody account. I don’t think it is. It’s my bizarre love letter to the show. In a parallel universe, the synopses are real, I like to believe. I’m excited for the “last season” of @TonightonGirls, I’m  really going to go for broke and keep with the themes that I’ve been building.

I just can’t say it enough. THANK YOU. KEEP FOLLOWING YOUR DREAMS. NO MATTER WHAT.

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Sheiloween

Sheiloween

A STORY IN THREE PARTS

As a child, I had a terrible memory. I forgot where I lived so often, my parents started nicknaming me “How Does He Keep Finding Us?” (I should mention they moved houses, often in the middle of the night, always without telling me). But when the first shafts of sunshine burst through the tree branches, like Mother nature herself punching through a wet paper towel with a stick made of fists, I was always wide awake and ready to go after resting for two days and crying for three.

“LET THE HUNT BEGIN!” That’s what my t-shirt said. Maybe I should have yelled it and started running towards forever for no particular reason, like they do in the movies but instead I decided that before I found my way back new home, I would find out the true meaning of Halloween or at least start a brushfire big enough to get my name on CNN Headline News.

The year didn’t matter. Neither did the hairstyles, the latest magic tricks, fashion dogs or the latest fashionable magical hairstyle tricks, my dogs. All that mattered is that it was 1992. I was 1- years-old but my hands were already grizzled from spending the first sixteen months of my life making ornate chandaliers for a wealthy dowager that kidnapped me. They looked like baseball mitts and roast beef eloped, then spent two years fusing in an oven. Needless to say, I wore mittens often.

It was almost November. I remember because the date on the calendar read: ‘Oct 31st, 1992.’ I could also feel the early onset of a November Rain when Slash came by my turtle’s christening unannounced and handed out pieces of his hat. Everyone went wild, especially Slash (that’s my turtle’s name).

I didn’t have a costume that day. I don’t have a costume most days. I already dress up and pretend to be someone I’m not every day. you need me to add a cape to that? So I’m wearing my favorite cape over a pair of snow pants, when it hits me: a giant Butterfinger. It must fallen from a tree which was weird because I was inside. I looked around my room and that’s when I saw her: Sheila. “HOLY FUCK, SHE’S BEEN DEAD FOR YEARS,” read the back of my t-shirt.

Sheila was my gym teacher the first time I took second grade. She died in class one day of a sudden planned suicide-pact with her girlfriend, Lunch Lady Sheila. It was sad and beautiful at the same time, like old people having sex in soup or a dog that’s great at painting but terrible at poker. BOOM! Another Butterfinger hit me, this time right in my elbow. That got my attention because a dead ghost had just thrown two candy bars at me.

 

TO BE CONTINUED (next post in one hour)

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I SEE SUBWAY PEOPLE…

I don’t ride the subway often anymore, ever since the ALLEGED “wolverines and Ketamine” incident on the F-Train a few months back, but when I do manage to sneak under a manhole and make the jump onto a speeding train, I try and soak up everyone around me. When I do, I tend to assign them my own made-up personalities. Here is who I saw today:

  • Asian Steve Jobs
  • A Wall Street hustler
  • Asian Steven Tyler
  • A spiffy lawyer
  • Asian Yoko Ono
  • A gay lumberjack
  • Asian Banksy
  • A kid with a lunchbox and weird eyebrows
  • Asian Jesse Plemons
  • A fruit vendor with ulterior motives
  • Asian Carmen San Diego
  • A bird inside a top hat
  • Asian Scatman Crothers
  • A scientist and his concubine
  • Asian Joan of Arc
  • A mental health expert with three hands
  • Asian Ted Nugent
  • A blind woman wearing a THIRD EYE BLIND t-shirt
  • Asian Rob Thomas
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FREE BAND NAMES

FREE BAND NAMES:

  • Redundant Echo and the Civilized Spoons
  • Cheesecake Factory
  • Dick Patrol
  • The Loners
  • The Bachelors
  • Monkey See, Monkey Don’t
  • The Incredible Fucks
  • Monday But Not
  • Frozen Pizza and the Oven Mitts
  • Jeb and his Car Keys
  • Sturflakkkarnardarhhardgggs
  • Elton John Mellencamp Lo
  • The Googles
  • The Bings
  • The Gouts
  • The Tinkles
  • The Sprinkles
  • My Chemical Weapon Romance
  • Aerosmith and Wesson
  • Dad’s Gotta Learn How to Cook
  • Sweet Jesus There’s a Goat In Our Attic and the Machine
  • Stern Looks and Jaded Mustaches
  • Oh Shit and the Not Agains
  • Yes That’s Blood on My Resume
  • The Insane Rodeo Clown Posse
  • 3000 Icicles
  • We Tried All the Jewish Holidays
  • Waiter Why Are You Crying Into My Aioli?
  • Clifford The Big Red God
  • Youra Angelo