As we learned yesterday, I made a quick trip down to New York City for a work thing/schmoozing opportunity/drinking orgy at the Manhattan Cocktail Classic, which is kind of like the CMJ of bartenders I guess, but either more or less lame than that sounds. Kind of feel like I let you guys down though vis a vis photoblogging and/or also Tweeting every single mundane detail of my trip though on account of drinking and/or phone batteries dying, which reminds me it's probably a good idea every time you go down to NYC to just send out a blanket text to everyone who lives there you are inevitably not going to meet up with that says "Sorry dude, drunk and phone battery died" just to save you the trouble of having to do it later.
Go look at the world through my boring eyes after the jump.
Found this little motherfucker in my hotel room about sixty seconds after I got there. I'm GHOST.
This was a Science of Citrus seminar I went to, which was actually pretty interesting, although I wouldn't be able to tell you much about it on account of the eight fucking drinks at my learning station. I missed the other things I wanted to hit earlier that evening on account of traveling via bus being a hell on earth. Jesus dude, my bus didn't have electricity or wi-fi. I would have been better off piloting a goat cart with square wheels down there.
Feel like this would be a pretty bad ass name for a doctor. Right after I snapped this a pigeon tried to eat a cigarette out of my mouth. So many deadbeats in Manhattan.
Padma Lashki, or as I call her, Schmadma Schmaski, was at some thing I went to last night for like five seconds, so I took a picture of it because I know how much you guys like low quality pics of mediocre celebs standing in front of guys holding up chairs. There were also chicks hanging from the ceiling on ropes and shit at this place the Box, which I didn't take pictures of because I got one look at the other guys doing it and decided I'd rather get smashed over the head by a dude in a blue shirt wielding a chair (seriously what is he doing?) than join that group.
If there's a food court in the American section of Heaven, I bet it looks a lot like this. I hope it does anyway.
Do all these pre-travel snack options make my love handles look extra wobbly?
Penn Station smells like kindergarten by the way.
That seems like a pretty good day for that to happen.
Watching the arrivals board is like being a contestant on a game show with the world's shittiest prizes.
brought to you by
2 comments:
someone go add me as a friend on spacebook so I can have 1k friends and maybe feel better about my life choices for 3 seconds.
I'd watch that show.
"Watching the arrivals board is like being a contestant on a game show with the world's shittiest prizes."
Post a Comment