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The Internet Should Be Read-Only after 9 PM

Do you hang out on the Internet at night? Do you often regret the things you’ve said/ordered off Amazon/said on the Internet at night? Me too. While this sounds like the beginning of an infomercial, I have neither the platform or the discipline to make one, so this is just a blog post about a strong opinion I have. SORRY.

So my thing with the Internet is that *it’s great*, right? Isn’t it great? It’s probably tracking everything I do, but IDK, I don’t do anything super-illegal and also it kinda feels nice that the Internet like, cares, that much to track all my movements. The Internet is basically the best listener ever.

The thing about the Internet that’s problematic for me is that I use it after 9 PM sometimes. It doesn’t matter if I’m drunk/high/totally sober, I’m  a total weirdo by like 8 PM because I’ve used up all my normal-humaning on work and so I’m gonna email my friends youtube videos of birds that have subject lines like “IT ME LETS MOVE

TO THE DESERT YES?” and then the next day I have to explain to my friend that no, it was not acid, I just have poor impulse control.

So I’d like to propose a new protocol. The Internet should be read-only after 9 PM. Based on your timezone, when you get on your wifi, it should block you from sending ANYTHING. Emergencies are for phones. Mistakes are for computers.

SRSLY, back away from the internet

BWCE

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Groundhog’s Day is Stupid

This morning I was taking a cab to work, because I have recently (ie – in the past 9 months) become one of those pieces of shit who actually pays $10 to get to work in lieu of walking or paying $2 to get to work slightly more quickly via subway because it involves walking up the stairs at the W 4th street stop and I have some sort of vendetta against those stairs (they smell like piss and are kinda steep).

Seriously, though, you have to walk up stairs to walk back down stairs. It’s dumb an I object. But, back to the cab. So, for one thing when it snows in the city and you take a cab, the cab drivers seem to enjoy passive aggressively scolding their fares for taking a cab in the first place. Today (because I am double-shitty and wore sneakers instead of snow boots and COULDN’T walk home), both cab drivers immediately were like, “HEY. IT’S ICY OUT.”

Yes. Yes, cab driver. It is icy out. That is exactly why I have fled to the safety of your car rather than enjoyed my usually lovely walk through Soho to work. I can check Facebook and walk at the same time. I absolutely don’t need to be riding in your cab to accomplish all of my morning goals. They are not too lofty. But the cab drivers like to keep going with the passive aggression. With the sighing and talking about how it’s icy out and dangerous on the street and I want to be like LISTEN IF YOU DON’T WANT ME HERE I GET IT I’VE BEEN IN ENOUGH COLLEGE HOOK-UP SITUATIONS TO UNDERSTAND WHAT’S GOING ON. But I really didn’t want to get my new sneakers wet so I just kinda dealt with it. Just like in college when their apartment was closer to my 9 AM class. I was prepared for this, cab driver.

Ok, side rant over. Anyway, when I was in the cab this morning the radio people were talking about Groundhog Day. The first thing they said was how Puxatawney Phil in Philadelphia saw his shadow and so six weeks more winter and for whatever reason the whole crowd cheered. And also during the announcement they were like, “start using hashtag six more weeks.” Which seems like a really pathetic attempt to make Groundhog Day still happen.

But so then, immediately after that, the news was like BUT IN STATEN ISLAND, twobuckchuck or whatever our groundhog’s name is (may the one De Blasio killed last year RIP) was all, ‘hey no shadow’ and AGAIN EVERYONE CHEERED. Which makes more sense, but given Philly’s reaction I DON’T KNOW WHAT WE’RE CHEERING FOR. Is it the groundhog coming out of his groundhog house/hole on command? Is it the preservation of tradition? Is it that they know that TBS will DEF be playing that Bill Murray movie on syndication like alllllll day long?

Look, I sort of get that tradition is sort of important (basically I don’t, but I’m trying here), and that we have to have SOMETHING to do in February because Valentine’s Day is coming, fuck. But can’t we at least stick with one soothsaying groundhog like we stick with one Santa?

It’s getting really close to midnight and if I don’t publish this soon I fear I’m going to end up in the plot of that Bill Murray movie.

Groundhog’s day is stupid and always makes me think I have something to do on February 2nd when I don’t. But groundhogs are cute! Let’s look at some of them:

daww da babies

That’s it. It snowed today so I’m going with Puxatawney Phil’s soothsaying. Stupid winter. Diediedie.

East Village Tavern

I’ve been meaning to do this for awhile – bar/club ratings. I know these are everywhere, but I feel like the things that make a night out good or bad aren’t usually the things you can find in a New York Magazine review. I want to know how long the line for the bathroom is going to be or how many times I’m going to have to suffer through a Black Eyed Peas song over the course of the evening.

Last night we went to a birthday party at East Village Tavern.

For my rating system, every place starts with 50 points and then I add/subtract based on my highly scientific criteria. In the end, I’m basically going to just tell you if it was awesome or if it sucked.

Here we go –

Cheap Drinks: +5

Strong Drinks: +10

Group of People at the front who were IMPOSSIBLE to get through: -4

Playing Remix to Ignition: +5

This super downer memorial Sharpie graffiti in the bathroom: -10

This Devil Mural right next to the memorial: +25

Neighbors are important, too. This park next door: +10

Really, Really fun dancing: +15

Even though they played All I Want For Christmas (Is You) one time too many: -2

East Village Tavern, Total Score: 104 points

Definitely the Best Club Ever

……….

No really, we danced SO much

Tagged , , ,

There were many different versions of trashy. This one wins.

Meatpacking District traffic

Meaningful exchange.

Don’t be fooled… that statue really isn’t his type.

Upper West, Midnight: After an evening of reliving college through music, this image only reminds me of the many, regrettable lap dance competitions held at Kira’s house.

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