15 Apr

April 15 – April 21, 2013

I’m just going to go ahead and assume that while you are reading this, I am wanting to scoop my brain out through my ears with a wooden spoon in California. Since I’ll be there til late Tuesday, I’m setting this thang up in advance, so this week’s playlist was created in anticipation of what future me would want to listen to on a hungover Monday.

Sunday Fundays are pretty much the best/worst, right? My cousin used to work in an old folks home and said that a lot of her patients with Alzheimer’s used to go through what they called “sundowning” at night, which is basically when your anxiety level shoots through the roof when the sun goes down. #Xanax. I’m now thinking it’s possible that I’m showing early signs of Alzheimer’s, because I get that shit on the reg. Sigh. So anyways, the Monday after a Sunday Funday is always particularly painful in my old age and I basically feel like I’m going to throw up my heart at my desk if I don’t take proper precautions.

Proper precautions include: A#1: Bacon, egg and cheese on some form of carb, be it bagel, English Muffin or the cardboard that Dunkin’ Donuts calls flatbread. B#2: Dim lights, soft noises. If there’s a crying child on the subway en route to work or if it’s super sunny and you forgot your sunglasses, you’re gonna have a bad time. C#3: A slow build-up of temple-rubbing songs that won’t make me want to retreat to the toilets for a nap.

I can’t help you get dressed (which is arguably the hardest part), I can’t help you efficiently drown out the smell of alcohol on your breath and I DEFINITELY can’t get you to work on time. Punctuality is not my strong suit. But what I can do is help you ease into your day while you’re Gchatting, BuzzFeeding and Redditing with your eyes crossed. Here’s hoping that you’ll be having an Orange Mocha Frappacino party at your desk by the mid-afternoon.


So, The Hangover Part III is happening and here’s the trailer for it. This doesn’t look funny or drunk and it mostly makes me yawn-y. I imagine it makes Zack Galafianakis yawn-y too, as it’s kind turning him into an Adam Sandler-type. YOU’RE BETTER THAN THIS! Bradley Cooper, not so much.

If Hamilton Beach would like to send me a breakfast sandwich maker to review, I swear I will make it look sexier than a room full of yoga asses.

I like the idea of a “Benjamin Button-style” weekend recovery process, but if it turns the clock back to tween time, I’m going to be PISSED.

After over 100 years, Shiner Beer is coming to New York. *shrug* My gay dude friends won’t let me drinks carbs in the summer anyways.

Speaking of carbs, the Everything Bagel: “It’s brash, aggressive, over-the-top, and utterly polyglot, both an emblem of New York’s immigrant past and a vehicle for its culinary future.” I don’t know about all that but, I don’t want, anybody else. When I think about you, I touch myself OOOOoohhh.

THE Papa John likes enjoys his pizza and his sporting events just like the rest of us. Reeeal drunk.

Hey wait! Rain check on that mid-week goodness this time around. Love ya, mean it!


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