Joyce is my waxer at J Sisters

I got a wax today in anticipation of going to the beach. Afterwards I always feel like I've either hooked up or have been molested. I can't quite figure out which one. Joyce probably knows my va-jay-jay (thanks for the term Oprah) better than any dude. She really gets in there looks at things. I can't imagine doing that for a living. Getting all up in strangers junk all day.

And now for part two of this post (and not nearly as graphic):
As I mentioned before I'm going to the beach, and I'm going with a boy!! He's probably the nicest dude I've ever met. I keep waiting for the downfall of him being nice, but so far it hasn't happened. So for now I'm just going to enjoy actually hanging out with a non jerk dude. It's pretty awesome.

Last night I decided to call Paulie to have a little chat and tell him about whats been going on and give him the boy update etc. So I call and get his voicemail. I think I peed my pants a little after listening to it. It's this message like "Hi Im not going to listen to your message, call my parents house if you want something and FYI I won't be back for 6 days." Just the way he said it was so typical Paul. Then I decided to call Mikey to see if Paul was camping or whatever, and really do you ever need an excuse to talk to a Visco? So I call Mike and it was at that point where I lost it. His voicemail was all "Hi this is Mike I can't take your call because I'm either busy or doing something where its inappropriate to answer my phone". I was like what are you doing that's is so inappropriate Michael Visco?

Moral of the story:
For a good laugh call a Visco when you know they wont pick up and listen to their voicemail.

The other day I was discussing my dislike of getting my picture taken. The dude was like "Think of it as your gift to future generations" or something along those lines. My response was "It won't matter when the Robots take over".

According to the NYT the Robots will be taking over a lot sooner than I thought:

I had totally forgotten about my arm wrestling victory last weekend until I read my friends blog:



In case you don't want to click over there or are too lazy to do so (hey I wouldn't blame you, it takes a lot out of me to even blog in the first place) below are the pictures and the back story:

Every Sunday there are free shows at McCarren Pool with sometimes good bands and always interesting people watching. So post McCarren pool we decided to head over to this bar with cheap beer and good nachos. We had snagged a sweet booth. Well sweet for everyone but Carolyn who got stuck sitting in a chair at the end of the table. She wanted to relocate to an outdoor table, but I felt that:
1. The outdoor table was smelly- it was near the garbage
2. The outdoor table was too hot. Not all of us lived in Brazil and love 90 degrees and 75% humidity.
Thus we decided to settle our dispute the way any respectable 20-30 something women do: arm wrestle.
I found this idea so fun and funny that the first bout Carolyn throughly creamed me. However I was prepared and had my game face on when I suggested best 2 out of 3. I won easily, but somehow we still ended up outside near the smelly garbage.


This is my game face. As you can see its quite intense.


Sweet, sweet victory.

I've never been a fan of book clubs. I feel like I have a very specific taste in books (books that have a lot of angst and danielle steel novels, but no chick lit) and I could never see wasting my time reading a book someone else suggests and then sitting around talking about it. Mostly its the reading a book someone else picks out part that bothers me. That is until this week. I just finished 1984. I know, I know everyone read this book in like 4th grade and is so over it. I read it too, but ages ago and I'm pretty sure I didn't so much read it as buy the cliff notes and write a paper on it that still got me an A.

Anyways this time I really read it. Cover to cover. Twice I missed my train stop because I was so engrossed in it. Man was it disturbing and interesting. I've had dreams about it. And now that I'm done reading it I can't stop thinking about it, and how fucked up the end is. I feel like the only way to get it out of my system is to talk about it with other people who've read it. Thus the whole book Club might actually be a good idea realization..