So it’s funny, actually. Of all the bullshit I say and write, the one thing that seems to get people emailing me and sending links around to friends is the stuff in my life. Never one to leave you all behind with a severe case of blue balls, here are the updates you’ve been waiting for.

Friday was a fine way to rebound. I did not have to see my homosexual roommate other than a brief moment when I came home and he gave me back my keys (he lost his for approximately the third time this year) and said “Oh man I was so drunk.” It also turns out that the Chinaman holding the lease will not be terminating it as he had said, but will instead let the bank do their job. You know, rather than accusing poor bloggers of stealing his identity. Friday night, at a bar on Chambers Street, your hero and mine…me…threw in a truly heroic effort. Not only did I heroically drink tons of alcohol without falter, I got the number of an attractive blond bartender. Please, hold your oohs and awes until the end of the post. Yes, with a bit if derision and booing her as she danced atop the bar (like Coyote Ugly, but with more stomping and infinitely less “dancing”), I somehow won her over. Was it the sweater vest? Hard to say.

Saturday was even more eventful. I was approved for my new apartment in the East Village (Stuy Town if you care and want to hunt me down in the park areas!). Sadly, this means the conclusion of My Gay Roommate, as of March 15th. As far as I know, my new roommate, whom I’ve known for about a decade and who has a girlfriend, will hopefully not rub my chest and tell me how muscular I look. Hopefully.

Saturday night was spent in a somewhat debaucherous fashion in New Haven (if by debauchery, I mean being somewhere cool but just hanging back due to a combination of exhaustion and sickness). There was no pick-up artistry plied on bartenders this night. Primarily because the main bartender was a oddly hillbilly-ish bearded gentleman. Which you’d think I’d like, but no!

So I come home Sunday afternoon. I’m exhausted, I want to go to the gym, I just don’t want to have any nuisances. So what do I find when I get home? Apparently my gay roommate has blown up the bathroom. There’s water EVERYWHERE, the little bamboo rug (I don’t even fucking know) is soaked, there’s a used condom ON THE FLOOR (no fecal matter though! Hi5!) and I immediately check the mirror to see if “Welcome to the Wonderful World of AIDS” is scrolled across the mirror in red lipstick. I’m seriously concerned as to what will happen when I tell him that I’m leaving the apartment on the 15th. Will he try to kill me? Rape me in my sleep? Shit on my bed? Oh the joys of living with an inconsiderate, cancer-ridden homosexual with severe psychological problems.

And everything else was basically status quo. So yeah!

Back the usual posting schedule today, so that should be fun! And of course, a hearty welcome to our new sponsor, Ticket Solutions. They’re paying me a lot of money so if you don’t click that ad on the top of the page and buy some tickets, I’m going to be really upset. So upset that I may stomp my feet on the floor then go “C’mon! Click iiiiiiiiit!” Ticket Solutions: The one with the tickets on it.

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