You make me smile.
May 2012
41 posts
April 2012
63 posts
As many of you are aware, I worked in 2 WTC back when the terrorists wiped out the towers. After the initial shock and wave of patriotism, the squabbles started. This time by lawyers, architects and the citizens of New York City, who all had their own ideas regarding what was the best way to honor the innocent dead. I held little hope that anything would be built.
Today, although unfinished, the Freedom Tower has become the tallest building in the Manhattan skyline. I admit I was a bit choked up when today, at approximately 2:00 PM, WTC 1 made history. Nothing we can ever do will bring back our lost loved ones, or take back the hurt that this city has experienced. What we have accomplished, though, is nothing short of magnificent. We have a tall building again, sure. But it’s not the tower itself that we should be marveling at. We have come together and showed the world that it is better to create than destroy. We have proven that the with power of sheer will and solidarity we can accomplish anything. We have proven that Americans will always unite when threatened.
Bur most of all, the world has learned that you just don’t fuck with New York.
Had a great time with the kids today, but I’m exhausted. Lots to talk about, but I’ll write more tomorrow.
I have an early morning appointment with my cardiologist. I haven’t had to see him in years, so this should be interesting.
I missed the window for an important call this evening at 9:30. I’m bummed. I’m sure I’ll have another opportunity.
You.. you.
Friends old and new. I’m getting really attached to you fuckers.
Heard from a good friend out of the blue tonight. That made me really happy.
You.
A by product of being a nice guy is how absolutely intoxicating it feels when I allow myself to be not so nice.
I have nothing even remotely interesting or relevant to be truthful about right now, so this post is basically the equivalent of hearing myself talk.
Wait.. I got it…
TT - I like to hear myself talk.
Thanks for playing.
My 13 year old son stayed home today with a cold. After he went to bed tonight I relaxed in my TV room to put something on in the background while I logged into the office, so I fired up Netflix and put on the old standby, Law & Order: SVU.
Before I put on the show, however, I saw a list of recently viewed shows. Along with Drake and Josh, a stand up comedy show, and The Wizards of Waverly Place, he apparently enjoyed three American Pie movies.
So, Disney shows and boobs. 13 is a weird age.
This morning found me stepping on to a crowded subway at Grand Central. The overcrowding was made worse by a baby stroller that I had to stand right next to. It’s a rainy Monday morning, so I’m not in a particular fabulous mood, but it’s not horrible either. In a word; I’m blah. The doors close, away we go.
When the train arrives at 14th street, the doors open, and people pile past me to get out. The parents with the baby carriage leave as well, and I’m literally forced to turn around and move forward. The car fills up again, so I’m stuck in my new position. My new position which finds me standing face to face with a beautiful Spanish woman with large breasts, a plunging neckline, dark, long hair and a face that Picasso wouldn’t dare distort. And I’m stuck facing her.
Her ears plugged by headphones, I faintly hear the Salsa she is listening to. She’s lightly shaking her hips, and staring off into space. Her gaze meets mine from time to time, but there are no fireworks on her part. My fireworks are contained to one part of my body, however, and like Jerry says, looking into cleavage is like looking into the sun. Plus, I’m a grown man and I know that I’m not supposed to stare. I mean, that just not what a gentleman does. So I spend an uncomfortable six or seven minutes (an absolute eternity in this situation) trying not to stare. I look up, down, left right,basically give myself an eye exam in my effort *not* to stare at this amazing cleavage in front of my.
My best efforts failed me though, as I stole every glance I could get at this.. this.. well, this amazing fucking rack. I couldn’t help myself. I never got the impression that she caught me, though, so I think I’m ok. Yes, yes. That was not cool, gentlemanly, chivalrous, and I’m a beast, a pig, or a plain old dirty old man. I own up to it all.
I’ve learned that life has it’s ups and it’s downs, it’s joyous moments and monumental sadness. However, when life hands you a gift, I believe you should take it, even if that gift is only yours for a moment on the hips and a lifetime on the hips, or simply just a few moments of stolen glances. Some gifts are worth it.
An amazing fucking rack? totally worth it.
As much as I respect your wit and intellect, I’m also just superficial enough to appreciate how adorable you are.
Fixing her broken toilet will bring as much happiness to your teenage daughter as taking her to the mall.
Actually having her help you, however, and showing her how the toilet works and showing her how to fix it herself so she’ll never have to rely on a man to do it for her will make YOU feel better than a trip to that one bar you love that serves 100 different types of beers.
Fatherhood. It’s a labor of love.
“Mortgage Backed Securities” is mine
Peninsula Juniors Vollyball Club.
Today is absolutely dragging, and I’m catching up on some boring reports I have to write. Perfect day to zone out to headphones, jam and get my work done. Unfortunately, none of my goto music is doing for me.
Steely Dan - While their commitment to harmonic perfection and sarcastic lyrics usually result in my totally jamming to the music and “getting” them, today I find them to be perfectionist know-it-all assholes.
CHOICE CUT THAT SUCKS TODAY - Gaucho
Styx - While nothing more than a guilty pleasure, sometimes the memories generated take me back to a simpler time in my life when the act of simply living was joyous. Today, they remind me of missing out on getting laid at a house party as a teenager when the girl who was into me became disgusted with me after I puked up gallons of beer, tequila and undigested Doritos.
CHOICE CUT THAT SUCKS TODAY - Babe
Van Halen - Ah, one of my all time favorite bands in the world. I’ve stuck with them always. The early incarnation, with Eddies amazing new sound, Dave’s “Rock God in your face” attitude, and the rythem section of Alex and Mike. Sammy brought depth to the band, and even Gary Cherone added something new to the mix. Today, I’m listening to the new cuts, and all I can think of is that the album is simply retreaded old music, and when Dave gets going on he “zip zeebop whoo!” shit he kind of sounds like a douche.
CHOICE CUT THAT SUCKS TODAY - Blood and Fire
Chemical Brothers/Daft Punk/Infected Mushroom/Underworld - Techno gets me pumped on a good day. Today, it’s all repetitive noise.
CHOICE CUT THAT SUCKS TODAY - Take your pick.
AND THE WINNER IS…
Silence. Wearing my headphones to drown out everything else. I may play a podcast of this weeks This American Life. When all else fails, look to Ira Glass to save the day.
The guy who walks out of the rest room at Grand Central Terminal and realizes his fly is down in the middle of Wall St.
The guy who forgets a birthday.
The guy who starts talking really loud and too close to your face after a few beers.
The guy who is slow to take a hint.
But then, I’m also “that other guy..”
The guy who stops in the middle of Wall Street and laughs at the absurdity of showing his Junk to half of New York City.
The guy who brings you flowers just because it’s Tuesday.
The guy who loves going out with you and can’t contain his feelings for you after a few beers.
The guy who is slow to take a hint.
I’m so busy that I was just nanoseconds away from sending a large group of people an email that contained the following sentence:
“…I’ll retest when the developer gives me head.”
I corrected it to:
“…I’ll retest when the developer GIVES ME THE GO ahead.”
Yep. One of those days.
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that is funny. i’d be more worried about the posting being on facebook than the pot. But I’m old fashioned that way.
This is one of those parental issues that didn’t exist years ago, so I’m unsure on how to deal with it. I follow all my kids on FB. James and Manda are younger, so I follow them to keep an eye every now and then. However, Jon is an adult, so I really can’t tell him what to post. (although he once made a REALLY tasteless comment that I made him take down).
I know about his activities, and although I’m not 100% on board with them, I am glad that he feels free enough with me to talk about them, and that is something that I would never jeopardize in a million years. Yeah, posting this on FB is not the greatest way to go, and I mentioned that to him, but he’s going to have to learn about these things himself.
Good comment :-)
Pants are rarely a component to these pictures, but shorts. Grey. Commando, ‘natch. Sleeveless blue muscle shirt that hasn’t seen anything other than the back of my dresser drawer for far too long. It’s tight on me now. Color me surprised.
Sitting in a recliner, tapping away on a laptop that’s quickly becoming my main machine. The face that stares at the computer looks tired. My morning routine ensures that every hair on my head is still in place (How? I’ll never tell). My hairline continues to retreat farther back than I’d like, which pleases my ever growing forehead immensely. Creases lie horizontally across their large piece of real estate, no doubt caused by eyebrows that are constantly being raised by the images that two brown eyes take in.
Those eyes are covered by two pieces of rectangular glass that bring the world into focus, for better or worse. Those glasses rest upon a nose that’s a bit wide, but fits into the overall scheme of its environment. Beneath the nose lies the most confusing feature of the entire face. Full lips cover an overbite that I was once embarrassed about, but which I’ve learned to embrace over the years. The wise decision of quitting full time smoking years ago has paid off by leaving my teeth still white. Lips, tongue and teeth are surrounded by a trimmed goatee. My chin has grown in stature over the years, but the extra fullness to my face has made my chipmunk cheeks somewhat larger when I smile. Not too terrible of a feature.
And my smile is ever present, because much of what I see every day, while familiar, is also wonderful. My face shows its forty plus years, but every now and then, the face of a younger man shines through; a man who has yet to become jaded. It’s the face of a boy who still finds the world a beautiful and amazing place.
Gratuitous, indeed.
Hearing the words “I love you” uttered by someone who truly means it is better than hearing the following:
“We should talk”
“My Condolences”
“I’m sorry that you had to find out this way”
“I forgot”
“IT’S YOUR TURN, GODDAMMIT!”
“In my office.. NOW!”
“Dad, do you know where the Chainsaw is?”
“I’ll always love you, but I just can’t be who you need me to be. Goodbye”
BECAUSE OF YOU!
AND YOU!
..AND YOU!
…AND YOU!
and especially…
YOU!
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I would let him bind my hands with that tie.
I’ll take that as a yes.
Just a reminder JUNE 22-24 here in DC!!!!
Just enough time to leave your suitcases packed from Chicago.
202-842-1300
Room rates are $115 under code DCTWEETUP.
Still working on a venue to make this tweetup the most… But there’s still so much to do here.
REBLOG, AND GET HERE!!!
Hmm. I can actually drive to this one…
I’m in a funk. Not in a great mood lately. Not sure why. Gotta fix it.
I’m missing CHSH this weekend, but I have a get together with a bunch of ex co-workers from Morgan Stanley. I’ll be drinking with people who I really like and haven’t seen in a while. I’ll miss you guys, but I’ll be happy to see these guys as well.
My oldest friend and I have a difference in political and ideological views. The Zimmerman case has us fighting one another and he’s really irritating me with his extreme right wing views. I lean more towards the liberal side, and I’m tired of being called out on it.
I need to get laid I think.
I really like looking at my fish tank. Seriously, it’s just so peaceful.
I need to get drunk I think.
Giselle mentioned “steady penis” in one of her posts. I understand what she meant, but when I hear those words all I can think of is a guy with a floppy member trying to steady it. It totally sounds funnier in my head.
That’s about it.
*sigh*
Throw something in my ask box. Good, bad, nice, mean, dirty or chaste. I don’t care. I want to hear from you guys.
In the building where I work there are banks of elevators that allow access to different floors of the building. I work on the 11th floor, and there are three elevators next to one another that go to eleven. Above the elevators are the numbers 2-11, and above the numbers is a light indicating which elevator door will open.
Sometimes I play a game where I bet the quality of my day on which elevator will take me to my place of business. I press the elevator button, then stand back and wait for one of the lights to shine. I have a one in three chance of correctly guessing which set of doors will open. And I bet myself: If I guess the right door, I’m going to have a good day.
As you can imagine, it is the most unscientific and juvenile way to gauge your day. It’ one’s attitude and surroundings that makes a good day, not which elevator you get on. However, it’s one of the things I do to try and keep my mind amused.
Other times I count my steps and bet whether or not I’ll land at my destination on an odd or even number.
You know, I may be a tad OCD. And possibly have a slight gambling problem.
…these feet that feel the ground beneath them.
…these legs that never stop moving in your direction.
…these hands that touch your face.
…these eyes that always see you; even when closed.
…this heart that beats in time with yours.
…this mind that dreams of you.
You Own…
All of the above.
Don’t I?