East Sizide and Some Other Jazz

Az last Sunday while I was skiing, I had quite the ocular mishap. Instead of leaving my glasses in the car I put them in my jacket pocket, and obviously they split right down the middle when I fell in the snow. And thus ended the blue Oakley/Captain Transition Lenses era. Az now I need a new pair, az on Thursday, I invited my buddy on an exciting eye-glasses excursion. It's been a while since we had an opportunity to spread cheer around the neighborhood whilst running an errand, az it was time. Since my parents are staunch supporters of exactly one optician/glasses store, I brought my friend over to said store on the east side. He needed his glasses' screws tightened anyway, az he wasn't coming only for moral support and for the spreading of said cheer, but also for utilitarian purposes. Forget the fact that I couldn't find any glasses I liked which fit; that's not the purpose of this post. The point is that whenever we left the car or whenever we left any store, he had absolutely no idea where we were and which direction we had to go; he was completely and utterly lost. Now, whenever I'm in my 'hood, I always assume that people know where they're going because I do, but then I remember that no one goes to the east side. Ever. There's just no reason for any of my friends to go there; there are plenty of restaurants on the west side and tons of other stuff to do. Learn about your city, people! Sewiously!

Az today I returned from Toronto, and during the long, cold, snowy trip, my beautiful anthracite gray car got all frosty white. Even though I knew it would just get dirty again in a hurry, I still needed to give Erin a bath, az I bought her a car wash. A couple of hours before that though, as I hear it told, two of my friends were walking out of the store and saw a beautiful gray car that was all frosty white. One nudged the other, pointing at said car, and stated flatly, "man, sucks for that guy," at which point I lowered my window and said hi to them. Oh, those two tricksters, always in and out of prison. They didn't mean it, Erin. Don't worry, the joke's on them, they don't even have cars. They're just jealous of your sublime beauty.

A couple of posts ago, I gave a little insight into how the Coswell cogs of my brain operate, az now I will give another example. Az tonight, I went with some friends to an all-you-can-eat sushi event at a restaurant on the upper west side. On the way down there, one of them mentioned that even though she wasn't going to eat a lot, she was still gonna order the buffet (pronounced boo-fay). Obviously I made fun of her for incorrectly pronouncing the word "buffet," noting that the word is not pronounced the same was as Lisa Kudrow's character on Friends' name is pronounced. Now at that point I made the connection between the name "Buffay" and the name "Bouvier." A couple of days earlier, when I was on that glasses errand with my other friend, the name Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis came up. I'm not shy to admit that I had no idea that Mr. Onassis was her last husband, but the point is that he said that she was born Jacqueline Bouvier. According to Wikipedia, her full name is Jacqueline Lee Bouvier Kennedy Onassis. When he told me that, I automatically recalled the episode of The Simpsons, where Marge's sister Selma gets asked if she would marry Apu, to which she responded that she didn't want to be Selma Bouvier Terwilliger McClure Nahasapeema-whatever. I need to lay off the doobies. Now that all of these ideas are off my chest, several things can happen: A. One of my loyal readers can stop complaining that I haven't posted in a while, B. I can look online for jobs, and C. I can drink myself into oblivion. Hameivin Yavin.