Jeff S

YASE 4 U

the year is nearing an end! I will save the retrospectives for when the year is actually done; I promise they will be fantastico

I have added myself to the group of those who watch The OC, that damned addictive TV show. This does not mean you are allowed to comment though, unless you have something to say awesome about it!

Related:
As usually happens when I or others are in a state of perpetual boredom, music is made
and not a minute too soon, as it is a challenge to find interesting things to do (though not so difficult that I expect to complaino about it)

The Sandy Cohen Song (Inspired by the OC) This could be hilariously awesome or just silly, depending on your level of obsession with aforementioned TV show. Irregardless of listener, this song will offer: rhthym guitar on a guitar named "ROCKIN USA!" that only has four strings, a cadre of missed harmonies, and million dollar Neptunes-style production values. It is a not-yet-spiked punch bowl of fun for most!

The other one we made A more somber affair from the boys you have grown to love. 10x emo much? Featuring real guitars, real emotions, and real 6 out of 6's.

Related: I was going to save this for all of the stuff I plan on saying behind 2004's back once 2005 comes to town, but it is after all, under the Related heading. Emo, in my mind, has lost its place as a musical genre. It has taken on a social connotation which is useful in its own sense, but should not be applied when talking about music in a categorizational sense. Though I do not usually quote/cite Dave's profiles in any writings (other than notes to lovers), I would refer you to the same concept that Emo has superseded any formerly musical meaning.

Related: Sometimes usage of certain words crosses from the sarcastic to being real. Or real as perceived by others. The self-mocking use of blatantly offensive gay bashing language as a critique of those would use it is an example; though the critical humor may be clear to me and my posse, I realize that perhaps it is not to those who have no cynicism. Another example would be any form of internet lingo, such as NEwayz, LOL, k, and superfluous use of Z's. So be careful out there!

NEwayz related:
I want a posse. I have proposed this in the way past, as much of my idea creation is cyclical and if good ideas aren't used my sophomore year of high school, I will just forget them only to remember them my sophomore year of college. Anyways, not to say that I would be the neccesary leader of said posse, or that there would be a leader, but a posse would be way awesome. Its like bullying 2.0, except we wouldn't need lunch money or do anything overtly evil. Just you know, doing things that posses do. It would be awesome.

the tale of the chaise

I don't remember who I have told this to, plus it probably has lost its novelty for most, but the pain still hurts anew for me, so perhaps this will be a catharsis. It is done joel-style, and might suck, but no worries I will return to my usual pattern of incoherent non-transitions in the next blog.

The internet is my biggest hobby. It would be difficult to operate without it. What some may not know, however, is of my extreme desire for pseudo-vintage furniture. Okay that's not true, but late one night I chalked up yet another point for why the internet is awesome and the real world can digi-bite me. That was probably featured on a cereal box somewhere.

A recurring desire amongst me and roommate Eli has been to get a futon. This hunger returned the other night, so I was inspired to check out the fabulously useful craigslist.org. The first listing under a search for "Futon" was a bunch of free stuff, no less than 3 blocks away at 11th and 6 Ave. Recognizing a rare opportunity, we immediately went to pick stuff up. Though the Futon had already been taken, something of even greater delight was still left.

THE CHAISE

A perennial piece amongst furniture snobs and Christina Aguleira videos alike, this delightful pseudo-couch is much like the mullet. It offers the best of the chair, couch, bed, and from what I can decipher from the suffix, mayonaise. Or maybe the french word "baise," which is mm, best left up to the french.
Though the chaise had seen some loving, this discovery was an critical moment in my newly New Yorker history! We moved it back to the dorm, wherein we realized our furniture's tragic flaw: it could not be allowed in the dorm pending approval.....
While the reasons for this rule remain uncertain, it is certain that the rule blows majorly. There were rumours flying about as to whether we would be able to perhaps approve its entry the next morning, but we initially sought other solutions.

Plan 1: Wait until the cool guard came. This was abandoned quickly, as we realized the evil guard had the night shift as well. The time at this point was around 12 a.m. That is midnight for the chronically slow (those two words have so many double entendrés, it is sick [and they aren't even sexual]).
Plan 2:Somehow sneak it in. One idea was to bring it through another door during his smoke break (this door has a fire alarm). Another was to bring it in one of the large moving buckets which are used when people move in. This was implausible as well, because already knowing our intention, he might be a wee bit suspcious on seeing a bucket with a large portruding object bursting out of it. Or we could've slapped him and ran. Considering the speed at which elevators close their doors, this seemed awkward and was un-considered as well.

Given that these two plans were considered and consequently trashed, we were obligated to wallow in the coolness of sitting on a fly chaise in the middle of the streets of New York. After many a random interaction between those we knew and those we didn't regarding our presence on the street-chaise, we decided to entrust our chaise to the goodness of the streets, and promptly left the chaise from 2 a.m. until the morning.

And the goodness of the streets RAPED us. It was gone the next morning, no thank you card, no dear john, just the cruel memories. Though it is unknown whether the thieves were trash workers or just regular thieves, I still am without that elusive chaise. All she left me with was a nasty obsession with free furniture. And ritzy free furniture at that.
I cannot verify myself, but I would imagine this obsession a lot like drugs or pringles, once you pop you can't stop. I have checked the site every day since then, but even if I found something comproable for 9 sacagawea dollars, I would not be impressed. I have even considered ready-for-dorm options which are shipped in a box, and easy to assemble. But again, having briefly lived the life of someone who can afford to look intellectually superior on an expensive seeeming chaise, I can not go back.
I do have pictures though!

kids on it. we were there for about two hours. after 45 minutes, we were asked to move the couch off of "Britanny Residence Hall property." we promptly moved the chaise 5 inches.

this is the sign we put up to scare away trashmen, thieves and uncle scrooge from ducktales. it did not work.

again, for posterity!

It may seem that I am unhealthily obsessed with this formerly mine piece of furniture; I am not. There are too many cool things in New York to be unhealthily obsessed with just one.