Exclamations

The past three weeks have been abound with nonsensical exclamations. A brief recap:

(1) San Francisco - a random mid-afternooon crosstown busride with a postal bus driver. Rants heard: "Does everybody know where they're GOING?!?!??!", "Do you people understand now why double parking is the work of the DEVIL? It's not me making you all late!" And the kicker, his remark to a middle-aged Greek woman who boarded the bus with her elderly wheelchair-bound mother and wasn't quite sure what stop she needed to get off at: "Usually, when people travel around with someone in a wheelchair, they have some idea of where they're going. Does EVERYBODY ELSE know where they're GOING?"

(2) San Francisco - The "End Up" nighclub. Open from Thursday afternoon through Monday evening. Yes folks, there is a town crackier than NYC. And why is it called the "End Up"? Because this is where everybody "Ends Up" after the rest of San Francisco shuts down. Scary? Kinda. Fun? Absolutely.

I ended up meeting a beautiful, smart, and yes, Latina woman named Karina. Think Jessica Simpson with brown hair. Well, after speaking to her for about three hours and finding out we had and incredible amount in common (besides the fact we were born only one day apart), we tied ourselves at the hip for the rest of the evening. One particular friend commented, "Well, now we know what your wife would have looked like", while another chimed in, "Well, now we know what you would have looked like as someone's wife."

(3) NYC - 15th and 8th. Upon our walk to the gym, Tom and I notice a decently dressed vagrant (note: not a bum) strolling up the avenue with his shopping cart. In that moment I realized that I too could be homeless under certain circumstances, and I felt a sense of connection to the poor bloke. That is, until he asked us with the utmost seriousness and inquisitiveness: "Excuse me sir, what does Al Sharpton's toe jam taste like?"

(4) NYC - 14th and 6th. Returning from the gym (another night), another seemingly well composed homeless man is walking towards us. As he passes he leans over to me and yells, "I love Jesus!" I turned around, and proclaimed my love for Jesus as well.

(5) NYC - Avalon (the old Limelight space) - Junior Vasquez was spinning for the premier of his Klear party. For those of y'all that don't know, the main floor typically thumps the best NY house both old and new, and the chapel (i.e. back room) plays radio pop for the kiddies (think: Jason Nevin's mix of Kelly Clarkson's 'Since You've Been Gone'). While we're taking a cocktail break in this gay version of Romper Room, a 20-ish year old kid from Miami flirts with me until I bring Tom over and introduce him as my boyfriend. About 5 minutes go by, and he comes back to say, "You guys are cute. Are you into threesomes?" I politely declined and let him know that although we weren't interested we're sure there are plenty others in the club that would be. Now, I have to give this boy props, for he comes back not a minute later and adds, "I have my friend here too - what about foursomes?" Tom interjects, "Obviously, you don't know enough about local living spaces - it's logistically impossible to fit four people in a New York apartment."

(6) NYC - Avalon - that very same night. My good friend Ren takes the prize with his timeless and tireless cry of fierceness, "WORK BEETCH!"

Finally on a musical note *bad pun*, the freestyle powerhouses formerly known as Cynthia and Lisette Melendez have combined forces to give us LizCyn (pronounced Lis-ten....get it? get it??) and their debut track, "I Can't Change Your Mind". Now maybe it's that cosmic Latina connection, but I really dig this track. With bubblegum lyrics, vocals that come straight from the nasal cavity, and that oh-so-familiar freestyle drum kick, this song reeks of swelterting Saturday afternoons in Seaside Heights circa 1994. Not convinced? Get over to iTunes immediately, and take a liscyn for yourself.