Can anybody recommend a nice, quiet bar somewhere in close vicinity of the Port Authority that has reasonably priced drinks?

Top 10 Places not to go on a first date:
1. Cockfight
2. Pro-wrestling match.
3. Wedding (particularly your own)
4. Strip club
5. Bachelor party
6. Brothel
7. Mexico
8. Star Trek convention
9. Funeral
10. Toys In Babeland

I was contacted by a woman on Match.com yesterday. I haven't used my Match account in about forever, and I'm wondering if this is some sort of tactic to get me to join (I've never been a member of Match, and much like JDate, you must pay to reply). Match does offer a free three-day trial membership if you've never joined, but I'm always wary of those. After the three days, they bill you for a six-month membership. It is probably the case that to cancel your membership before the three days are up, you have to click on the website, find the sunken continent of Atlantis, donate a gallon of blood, deduce who actually shot JFK, and determine a proper exit strategy for Iraq before you can cancel.

On the other hand, I have over 30 unanswered communication attempts on JDate from the past six months or so. I'm tempted to join just to clean out my inbox.

I have been mentioned on Dawn Eden's blog, with regards to a topic that has nothing to do with either political Conservatism or Christianity. For her next Blog On! column, she is collecting the names of available bachelors with nerdy qualities who produce unique blogs. What eliminates me is that I discuss my search for a significant other on my blog (although truthfully, with the exception of this past Friday, I rarely discuss it anymore), and she doesn't want that. Evidentally, she also wants amateur nerds, and I, of course, am a professional one (as my collectible collection can attest). I do, as a consolation prize, get a link on her blog, which brings people here that wouldn't ordinarily stop by. So, welcome!

Something I have not been able to do since January of this year is work out. I was a member of the gym in my old building (which was very convenient, since it was in the same building and operated for 24 hours a day), and even after leaving the building last year, I was able to hold on to the membership for a little while, but that ended. I was considering joining NYSC, but that's both expensive and inconvenient to get to. The only local affordable gym to me is kind of crappy looking and I'm not home often enough to take advantage of it. Dave is giving me his old elliptical machine, which I'm picking up tonight, and I'm hoping that will be enough incentive to exercise again.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO PAM!

Thanks to all the friends whom I saw this weekend who helped me deal with the events of Friday night. Among the blogger community, this includes Caren, Dave, Joel, Phil, Daryl, and Chris.

On to two reviews. I saw The Baxter at the new IFC Films Cinema on Sixth Avenue near NYU.

The Baxter: written, directed by, and starring Michael Showalter, one of the trinity that make up the comedy troupe Stella (indeed, one of the female characters in the movie is named Stella, and the two other members of Stella, David Wain and Michael Ian Black, have supporting roles). The plot has some similarities to "The 40 Year Old Virgin" and undoubtedly comparisons will be made, particularly since both have Elizabeth Banks and Paul Rudd in the cast (I like Paul Rudd as an actor and it wouldn't surprise me if he was cast as a romantic lead in future movies. He has that combination of looks and silliness that such roles crave). Both were also in the previous Stella-related movie "Wet Hot American Summer". Michelle Williams was very good as the "Baxterette", but is a character whom is what I call "Hollywood ugly" (which is not really ugly or homely at all). I enjoyed the movie. It was clever and well-written and, since Showalter plays the guy who is constantly dumped, I empathized with the role. I would have made the ending a little different, but that's just me and the ending worked well as it was (stay a little into the credits for an extra scene). On a final note, this was also a movie I wanted to see alone. I ended up seeing it with two couples. When it comes to either hooking up or seeing a movie alone, I can't seem to do anything right.

The IFC Theater: The redone theater is very artistic in presentation, somewhat reminiscent of the new MOMA. The theater itself consists of exposed brick, vents, and pipes on the walls as if they have yet to finish putting up the building. Perhaps it's because they equate art with poverty? I'm not sure. Still, in the era of warehouse movie-theater chains, it's nice to be able to distinguish oneself and have a sense of style. I really don't like or hate the style, but I note how different it is from traditional movie theaters. They even have a very unique presentation of the concession stand. I remember going up to the theater employee working there:
Me: I'd like the organic popcorn. With the truffle butter.
Him: We're out of the truffle butter.
Me: Okay. I'll take the cinnamon spice then.
Him: We don't have the cinnamon spice right now.
Me: Do you have any cheese in this cheese shop?

That's all for now. Welcome to the work week. Peace out.

I post the following because I have nobody to talk to. If I learn that this has led to someone talking shit about me behind my back, I will give up blogging altogether. I'm really fucking hurting right now, and I don't need this shit.

I was contacted by a woman on Nerve who lived in Philadelphia. She seemed nice, had a good sense of humor, and was an artist. I drove down to Philly to meet her (what do you think, I went for a cheesesteak?), and I was convinced the first date went bad (too many silent pauses). However, at the end, she gives me a nice kiss goodnight, so it ends with possibility.

For the second date, we met in NYC last week (what do you think, I went on the Beast alone?). We get soaked on the Beast, and I treat her to a nice Italian dinner in the Village. The date takes hours and again ends nicely.

Tonight, I drove out to Philly to meet with her again just to hang in her house. She gets out some wine and draws the curtains. And then, I get the "let's be friends" speech, along with the "I'm confused and don't know how I feel" speech.

I won't describe how I reacted to that. I think I did okay. I'm sure commenters would disagree, and as mentioned, I don't feel like taking this kind of shit right now. My question is this: how is one supposed to react in that situation?

I've been okayed to say this: Dave is having a big birthday shindig hoe-down hootinanny at the Luca Lounge on Saturday night at 9 P.M. Anybody reading this is invited. This party will probably involve heavy drinking (or, as an alternative, light drinking or no drinking).

I've started a new tradition for myself: when Sarah mentions a place to eat on her blog, I will try to eat there as soon as possible thereafter. Tonight, I ate at Sapore. I had the grilled chicken sandwich. Like the last restaurant I ate at which Sarah recommended, the food was good and the prices were reasonable, but the portions were small. I had to grab a sandwich at Peanut Butter and Co to satisfy my hunger after I left.

Then I went to see The Miss Education of Jenna Bush starring Melissa Rauch. All I can say is: wow. What an excellent one-woman show. The writing was clever and witty, the acting was superb (Ms. Rauch is amazing at accents and dialects), and the character had a great deal of depth, despite seemingly taking after her father. If you have a chance to see this show for one of its remaining performances, I highly recommend it.

UPDATE:
I forgot to mention the entertainment-related tidbits I wanted to briefly talk about.

Brock Peters died. He had some famous roles in the past, including the movie "To Kill A Mockingbird", but I'll always remember him as Joseph Sisko (father of Captain Benjamin Sisko) in "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine" and as Admiral Cartwright in Star Treks IV and VI. He was the one who said "to offer the Klingons safe haven is suicide", and he was right.

Some hero stamps and some Muppet stamps are being released by the post office. I must remember to pick up one of each.

A TV Movie of the "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel" character Spike is in the works. I just picked up a comic of the character written by Peter David, and it was pretty good.

Andrew Lloyd Webber's new musical, The Woman In White, is opening on Broadway shortly. I have a morbid interest in seeing it. I only like ALW's early work with Tim Rice (Joseph, Superstar, and Evita), but I try to see his shows when possible.

Tonight I had my first improv class with UCB. On the suggestion of someone who has taken improv classes, I took a class with a female instructor. The claim was that women trust female instructors more, so the class would likely have more women. Since I have no basis of comparison, I can only say this: about half the class is female. After careful evaluation of the women there, I came to the conclusion that I wasn't interested in any of them. I can therefore proceed with the rest of the course without that added pressure.

In doing the improvisational exercises, the biggest comment I got is that I tried too hard to make each piece a "bit" (as in stand-up comedy). We also had an exercise in which we gave every person a nickname based on their real name (such as "Boobie Betsy") and had to do some sort of motion based on their name (such as clutching our own boobs). Then the group scrambled up the circle and you had to name every person with their nickname and the motion. I did the worst, as I am lousy with remembering groups of names. I blanked two or three times.

For the class, I'm supposed to watch 30 minutes of improv a week somewhere (I also can get into certain shows at UCB for free). I doubt I can do that much, but I may go to watch improv once or twice. Anybody want to join me?

Announcement: I have a spare ticket to go see "The Miss Education of Jenna Bush" (it's one of the Fringe shows which got a good write-up in Time Out NY). Ticket cost is $18. Performance is this Thursday night at 7 p.m. If interested, please send me an e-mail. First come, first serve.
Update: The ticket has been claimed. Thanks for playing.

I tried the NOHO Star tonight (as recommended on Sarah's blog). The egg salad sandwich was good, but the portions were small. What other restaurants should I try?

As I walked in the Village this evening, a woman was trying to get the attention of a man walking away from her. She said, "Hey you. Hey you! HEY YOU FUCKING DOUCHEBAG!" He kept walking away. We need more nicemodernists in this city.

The Blogette came out of hiding yesterday to write a one-word response to my commentary. The word she used is the Russian word for sex. I knew she was a pervert.

Yet even more reviews (this time it's books). Spoilers follow (you have been warned):

The Lovely Bones, by Alice Sebold: I read a recommendation for this book on another blog and for me it was a very difficult read. Not because of any problem with the writing, which is very good, but rather the subject matter. It begins with a 14 year old girl named Susie Salmon who is raped and murdered by a serial killer in 1973. The rest of the story follows Susie's spirit as she sees her family deal with the loss and follows them (and her killer, and the boy who liked her in junior high school) over the next decade or so. If reading this synopsis makes you uncomfortable, do not read this book. Otherwise, it's quite good.

The Plot Against America, by Philip Roth: There are those I know who like Philip Roth's writing style, but I can't say I'm one of them. His descriptions are extremely long-winded and more often than not I find myself skimming through paragraphs. The book is one of those World War II alternate history stories (no, not one where the Nazis won the war. That would be cliche'). In the book, noted anti-Semite Charles Lindbergh won the presidential election against FDR in 1940 and kept America out of the war. Philip Roth writes it as a first-person narrative of himself and his family in their Newark, NJ Jewish neighborhood (the same neighborhood both my parents were raised in. Yes, they knew Philip Roth). In that, it's an interesting exercise, particularly given Roth's attention to historical detail and his imaginative alternate possibilities. If you're Jewish, the book can come across as quite frightening (possibly even if you're not Jewish). However, the global "everyone is against us" atmosphere of the novel is somewhat unrealistic to me. It seems more like the paranoia found in the previous generations (which, of course, it was). Overall, I would rate the book as fair-to-good, but not excellent.

Terry Pratchett will be doing a reading and signing at the Lincoln Center Barnes and Noble in September. Major ass-kissing post to follow around that time.

More reviews:

John's Pizzeria: the reputation of this Broadway landmark is overblown. I got the thin-crust pizza and it wasn't crispy. I liked the John's that is located further uptown better. And better pizza overall can be found at Favia Lite in Hoboken. So go to Hoboken!

One-Man Star Wars: For geeks. By geeks. Starring a geek. The show was fun, and Charles Ross is a respectable actor (although my own admittedly flawed memory of the movies had the inflections of the lines come out differently). Ross does his 20 minute versions of each of the original Star Wars trilogy with energy, enthusiasm, and some humor. When he spoke of the dark side consuming Anakin, killing him and making him Darth Vader, he also had Obi Wan say "Also, I cut off his arm. And his legs. And he burned to death in a pit of lava". I kept imagining Triumph the Insult Comic Dog going to this guy and saying "have you ever even seen a vagina?". I enjoyed the show, but it's not for everybody. I think I liked Patrick Stewart's one-man Christmas Carol better.

The Beast: Why didn't anybody tell me that this speedboat tour gets you really, really, really wet? Like Aquaman-level wet? I'm still soaked from the damn thing. I had fun on it, though.

The Blogette hasn't posted in over two months. I think she's dead.

A friend of a friend from out-of-town is staying at my condo. I went out with her today and spent the day in Manhattan. Our day:

Got half-price tickets in Time's Square for an afternoon show of Altar Boyz.

Tried to ride "The Beast", but got there too early. We got there at 11 AM, and tickets don't go onsale until 11:30 AM for the first ride at noon. Decided to walk back to Time's Square.

Purchased the Killer Rabbit hand-puppet from Spamalot. That goes on the shelves. Also purchased several other collectibles later on for the shelves (now that I have them). Good thing I'm not dating anymore.

Review of Altar Boyz: I thought it was cute, but not great. The show is about the final performance of a Christian boy band, and it was a great opportunity to make fun of both religion and boy bands. Sadly, it kind of fell short of both for me. Still, the music is boy-band style catchy and you'd probably enjoy the show if you like to go to, say, Aaron Carter concerts.

Caught a subway to the Village and walked around (got more collectibles).

Ate dinner at Chumley's and dessert at the Magnolia Bakery.

Review of Chumley's: Chumley's is a former speakeasy from Prohibition located in the West Village. It is a hidden gem of a bar (with excellent bar food). I had the bar burger (which was not Shake Shack-level good, but still good), and my friend had the roast duck (which was very good). The trick with Chumley's is that they don't hang a sign outside, so the facade looks like every other building on the street. If you don't know it's there, you'd never find it. On the inside, the walls are littered with photos of celebrities who have dined there in its heyday, including several noted authors. I would happily eat there again.

Review of Magnolia Bakery: I tried the cupcakes last year, on the same weekend as Bloggerpalooza. I thought they were dry. Tonight, I tried both a chocolate cupcake (dry) and a vanilla cupcake (pretty darn good, actually). I now know what to order on my next trip to the bakery.

Tonight, we're seeing "One Man Star Wars". Review to come later.

Other thoughts:
There's a Jewish festival coming up soon called "Jewsapalooza" (it was mentioned in Time Out New York). I would attend this festival based on the name alone.

You know all those porn movies where the lesbian staying at your place switches sides while there and becomes a fantasy? Yeah, that doesn't actually happen.

Tonight, I decided to go to see the movie "The 40 Year Old Virgin". Since the subject matter hits a little too close to home (and to prove it, if you see the movie, look for a "Moses" action figure on the shelves of the home of Andy, Steve Carell's character. The same action figure is on my new shelves), I went alone. All I can say is that I am most certainly not..40 years old. Naturally, since I went alone because I wanted to go alone, I ran into someone I knew in the theater. In this case, it was Daryl.

The Review: the movie was excellent and well-written. It's a good date movie. You can tell it's a good date movie because it ends with a show tune. There was this one really funny line in the movie, but I forgot what it was. Give me a break. I'm drunk.

Why do so many women prefer to date/mate with men that are of taller stature than themselves? Why is tall so attractive a feature in men for women? I see many online profiles that prefer TALL men (sometimes even capitalized like that). Is it an inbred inferiority complex? Do they need the symbol of strength that comes from a taller man? Do they just need someone to stand under when it rains? Is it a game or arithmetic, where she prefers to wear three inch heels and look the same height as her mate, so she must have someone EXACTLY three inches taller? I know it's a superficial need and not every woman requires it, but I'm curious about it's origin and reasoning. Could any woman out there date a man shorter than themselves and see a potential mate?

Mind you, I'm six-foot-one and being tall hasn't helped me that much.

I nearly forgot. Pam was quoted in an article in the Baltimore Sun. It's about dating. She's pretty much given up on blogging, so I thought I'd mention it here. Talk amongst yourselves.

I write this post as I sit eating at the pizza joint right above the bar where Movieoke takes place. I'm waiting for the bar to open. I enjoyed Movieoke last week and won't be able to return for several weeks, so I'm getting in one last hurrah tonight.

There are a couple of nearby unsecured wireless networks that I can latch onto to post this. If you wander around Manhattan with a laptop and a wireless card, these are fairly easy to find.

Since Movieoke starts so late, I was able to go home and change into more comfortable clothes (including a pair of my brand-spanking-new sandals).

The pizza at this place (Two Boots Pizzeria) is interesting. They have spicy pizzas with toppings like buffalo wings and cajun shrimp.

It's one of those nights where I can't think of anything to write, so I'm writing a play-by-play of my life. It's kind of like keeping a day planner of the past.

Happy Half-Birthday to Meeeeee.

The following items rest on the new shelves in my office:

Several Star Trek, the Next Generation action figures.
A few Star Trek: First Contact action figures.
A few Star Trek: Deep Space Nine action figures.

An official "Wizard of Oz" ruby slippers door stopper.

From Monty Python and the Holy Grail:
The Killer Rabbit
The headgear of Tim the Enchanter
The Black Beast of Arrrrrgh

From Bloom County: Bill the Cat and Opus

A Kermit the Frog puppet

A Gossamer stuffed animal (Looney Tunes character. Big red guy shaped like a heart, but furry).

Earl the Dead Cat (unstuffed animal)

Some Superfriends action figures of Superman, Green Lantern, Lex Luthor, and Sinestro.

A Joan Collins action figure (ask me about this one next time you see me).

From the Muppet Show: Statler and Waldorf action figures.

Some historical/fictional action figures including Shakespeare, Poe, Beethoven, Moses, Freud, and Einstein.

A Darth Maul action figure.

Finally, Darth Tater (a Mr. Potato Head dressed like Darth Vader).

This is why I can't invite women back to my condo.

Tomorrow (the 16th) is my half-birthday. I am now 34 and a half. I'm officially closer to 35 than to 34. Ugh.

Just to give you an idea of what things are like in the Dobbs family, my brother (who is married with two kids) sent me this e-mail:

maybe we should write a show........ it can be about a guy who keeps nothing in his fridge.............that could be you.......and a guy who is VASTLY underpaid..........that could be me............ and.....get this..........they're BROTHERS!.......... sounds like a winner.........I can see the opening musical number............ "You Have It So GOOD".......... where you could sing how my life is so great, and I could sing how your life is so great............... wow, this show is writing itself...........let me know when you have it finished

He then wrote the following:

You have it so good,
it comes to you slow
it obvious to me
so i'll let you know

you come and go as you please
you have disposable cash
your birds are out seeking bees
at every party or bash

...something like that

I replied with the following:

You have it so good.
You now have a wife.
And two kids to boot.
To add to your life.

They smile when you're back.
When you walk in the door.
Big hugs and kisses.
Who could ask for more?

..Ah-HA!

He then replied:

You have it so good,
no militant wife,
you're sleeping in late
a real social life

You've time for yourself
your calendar's clear
a midnite buffet
a 10 am beer

(check......)

At this point, I had to get back to work and couldn't respond anymore.

So I go to Philly to get a cheesesteak. I originally was planning to hit Tony Luke's, then I changed my mind and went to Geno's. I get to the window and am about to place my order, and the power goes out for the entire block. Realizing that fate was being a total bitch, I got back in my car and drove home.

Before that, my shelves were finally put up by a professional on Saturday morning. One less thing to worry about. All my collectibles are now arranged on them. On some future post, I may list them.

The Fringe Festival has hit NYC. I want to try and see this show. The star (and co-writer) is someone I knew back in my community theater days and I have no doubt that the show will be of great quality.

For those who accuse me of being thrifty, I'll have you know that sometimes that particular quality comes in handy. Today I went to the Jackson Outlets to get some new sandals at the Rockport store. Currently, they're having a buy-one-get-one-for-50%-off deal, plus I found this coupon, which netted me another 20% off. I got two pair of $40 sandals for under $25 each. So there. Nyah. Perhaps I should have purchased extra sandals to give out to women on first dates.

Well, it's a Friday night in (this time by choice rather than fate), so it's time to catch up with some bloggin'.

To pat myself on the back for a moment, my name (or rather, pseudonym) has appeared on the Black Table website twice in two weeks. Pretty darn cool. I'd say my site traffic has gone up about 30 to 40% as a result.

Movieoke was fun and I'm 99% sure I'll go again next week (I won't be able to go again for several weeks afterwards). This time, I'll bring my own DVDs with subtitles. I wonder if they allow Movieoke of porn? Of course, for that, I'd need a female scene partner. Any volunteers?

Finally, I want to address this Observer article that Joel mentioned in my comments. I could write a counter-article I suppose, but screw that. I'd rather have material for the blog than money. Uh, wait...

Anyways, the author, Ms. J.C. Barker (which sounds kind of pseudonymous to me) uses extreme examples of ill-behaved and rude men to prove her point. I could easily bring up true-to-life examples of the opposite happening, such as when one woman I dated for whom the term "chivalry" meant "buy me expensive dinners" (this was years ago, when I was more naive about the dating game). Or the woman who offered to pay for a couple of drinks after I bought dinner. I accepted, and it turned out she didn't have the cash on her and I paid anyway. However, I've written of these women in previous posts and recognize that they are extreme examples of taking advantage.

She also wrote of a man, Jeff, who complained of having money problems yet bragged of having $400,000 deals in the works. First off, was it his own money he was dealing? Secondly, there is such a concept in Manhattan as "rent poor".

She also writes of a man inviting her to his apartment for dinner. I'd LOVE to do this. I'd even get food in my place for it. However, I have yet to date someone who, even after a few dates, would be comfortable going to my apartment. While it turned out okay, she should be more wary.

Overall, the article comes across as arrogant, shown in the sentence "But there is no logic in the world of love, so I’m not allowing them that excuse", as if dating these men was her choice alone.

At Sushi and Sake tonight, I tried asking a woman for her e-mail address. The gist of her response: "I read your blog. No."
This. Really. Happened.

So, to all the ladies that read the blog, I know it's a big turn-off. I know it makes me seem like some whiny loser who couldn't get a date if he was dying of a rare tropical disease for which a relationship with a female was the only cure. I know that it gives you wonderful gossip fodder which no doubt is all you talk about during the day, because me bitching about how dating is unfair and women control it and I can never seem to catch a break no matter what I do is overwhelmingly interesting. That being said, if you read the blog and know who I am, please make me aware of this so I don't waste anybody's time trying to get your digits.

I did get some feedback out of it. Apparently, when talking to women, I seem like I jump around and don't let the conversation flow naturally. I asked for the feedback, and regretted doing so afterwards, not because of anything she said or did, but because it was an emotionally weak thing to do. I should have just accepted her refusal and not dwelled on the matter (that's what the blog is for).

Don't ask me for her identity. I will not reveal it.

That, combined with some crap at work, has made this a really shitty day. I'm staying in Friday night, and I'm glad.

What do you call a night where you're out late in Manhattan and don't have the opportunity to write a meaningful blog post?

Tonight.

UPDATE: Holy crap! My post made it in the Black List! Look for the entry with the title "Women Asking Men Out On First Dates". Some day, I may even post something using my real name.

To begin with, I want everyone to know that a good pick-me-up for those blues is either a dulce-de-leche or vanilla chai milkshake from Haagen Daaz. It's like a party in your mouth and everyone is coming.

Another thing on my mind recently (perhaps from seeing the movie "The Aristocrats") were some lowbrow lyrics this male choir I was involved with in college used to sing in private. The chorus is as follows:

And in my future life, she's going to be my wife.
How the hell do I know? She told me so.

The verses always started with the lyrics "my girl's from" and the name of a college. For example...

My girl's from Holyoke. It's her hymen I just broke.
Too bad that she never woke. I love her so... (chorus)

My girl's from Tulane. Fucked her skull and crushed her brain.
Pushed her off a moving train. I love her so... (chorus)

My girl's from Hood. She's really good.
Too bad she's got no legs. I love her so... (chorus)

Our minds were filthy, but our voices were always strong and on key. Even when drunk on a bus.

Bob tries new things:

On Thursday, I'm going to this karaoke thing hosted by Esther (link is on her blog).

I may try Movieoke on Wednesday. Not sure yet.

I just signed up for a class at the UCB Theatre (thereby fulfilling my New Year's goal of two arts classes this year).

I know someone with a social problem. She calls herself the Unsocialite. Please visit her blog to help her.

My weekend has been one of solitude. I even took the liberty of cracking open another bottle of wine on Friday night. Here's the review:

Sauvignon Blanc, 1999, Dalton, from the Galilee Region of Israel - the wine had an appearance of a yellowish tinge (no urine jokes, please) and the nose was musty. The taste was very full, and not as dry as one would expect from a white. The finish was smooth. My overall impression is that the wine was almost geared for child drinkers (particularly given the rough sketch of a house on the label) and, for a white wine, embodied some qualities of a red (such as fruitiness).

I also managed to finish two books, The Tipping Point and Blink, both by Malcolm Gladwell. Here's a quick review of both:
Both non-fiction books are about people. The Tipping Point deals with people as they relate to other people and how fads get started. Blink deals with how human instinct works. The author is a good writer, but mostly because he's a good storyteller. He tends to present a theory, then tell three or four human-interest stories or experiments to support that theory. I enjoyed both books, as they offered some insight for me regarding signals and interaction that I didn't have before. Hopefully, I'll remember them in practice.

Despite my solitude, I did go out and see The Wedding Crashers over the weekend. Here's a review:
I enjoyed this movie. It seems that there's a comedy "clique" out there that appears in each other's movies, involving Vince Vaughn, Owen Wilson, Will Ferrell (who does make a cameo in this movie), and Ben Stiller (who doesn't). I think what I enjoyed most about the movie is that, due to the "R" rating, it didn't feel the need to speak down to the audience in order to maintain the "PG-13", but it still managed to a character-driven silly and fun, romp that mocked wealthy, eccentric people (who, let's face it, need love too). I admit though, I found it somewhat disturbing when that guy from Seasons 1 and 2 of "Alias" was being verbally abusive to the blonde-girl-turned-brunette from "Mean Girls". But that's just me.

In a move of total insanity today, I decided to go alone to the Bronx Zoo. Honest. Here's a review:
Monkeys swinging from trees. A butterfly room. A skyride. Elephants. Giraffes. Zebras, going down on each other. What's not to love?

(ONCE AGAIN), WELCOME TO ALL YOU FOLKS WHAT SURFED ON OVER HERE FROM THE BLACK TABLE.

I know you're out there. Please leave a comment. What did you think of the article? I also have an e-mail address if you prefer to communicate privately. I don't expect women to agree, because they don't acknowledge that the dating process is much easier for them then it is on men (although they make it harder for themselves by being so picky). But hey, if you disagree, leave a comment!

Tonight, I am going to see a Jazz Concert at the Makor Center in Manhattan on 67th St. The performer is a distant relative of mine.

I have nothing to do this weekend. It's been a busy week. I've been out Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Still, I hate not having something to do Friday or Saturday night. Anybody know of anything cool going on?

To conclude, welcome all Black Table fans. Leave a comment. Go nuts.

WELCOME TO ALL YOU FOLKS WHAT SURFED ON OVER HERE FROM THE BLACK TABLE!

Just a quick run-down on this blog: I bitch a lot about dating. However, just because I bitch about dating, doesn't necessarily mean that I only bitch about dating. There's so much in life to bitch about.

I've been having these strange heart palpitations since the beginning of this week. There's no pain, but my heart starts beating fast for no apparent reason. When I get them, all I can think is "thank God I don't have a girlfriend/wife". Because if I did, and I told her about this, she would nag me about going to the doctor and getting it checked out, maybe even going so far as making the appointment on my behalf. Maybe I'm stressed and this is a new symptom of it?

If I do end up going on a boyfriend interview someday, I better not mention this. Nobody wants a boyfriend with a bum ticker.

UPDATE: Oh. My. God. I'm in Bryant Park, and I'm connected to the Internet. I'm on the Internet. In. The. Park.

(Hat Tip to Tamara)

ANOTHER UPDATE: As mentioned in the comments, I now have a Black Table writing credit to my name. It can be viewed here. Special thanks to Joel for including me in the collaboration.

On Wednesday night, I'm probably going to the Jinx Society Debate.

On Thursday night, I may be going to a Jazz Concert at the 92nd St. Y.

If anybody wants to join me at either, let me know so I don't change my mind.

I also may be joining Esther to see the One Man Star Wars production.

I also want to go to Movieoke and ride the Beast and visit the Bronx Zoo and see the show Altar Boyz.

What do you want to do?

Just when you thought my blog couldn't get more controversial or disgusting, I'm bringing it to a whole new low. If you have weak stomachs, or love the Harry Potter books, stop reading now.

Inspired by both the book I read and the movie I saw this past weekend, I have written the following. I have decided to put it on the page so the only way you can properly read it is if you actually make the effort to highlight the text:

One year before Ron entered Hogwarts, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and their youngest children Ron (age 10) and Ginny (age 9) went to a Magical Talent Agent.

"We have the most amazing new act," said Mr. Weasley.

"Well, let's see it," said the Agent.

At which point, all four family members quickly jumped on each other and began tearing off each other's clothes. Ginny quickly went down and Ron and began sucking his dick. Forming a chain, Mrs. Weasley placed her pussy at Ron's mouth and he began licking away, and Mr. Weasley put his cock in Mrs. Weasley's mouth and she began to suck.
After a few minutes of this, the group broke apart and Ron began to fuck his mother up the ass. Mr. Weasley then picked up Ginny by the ankles, spread her legs apart, and fucked her as she hung upside down fondling his balls.

Then, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley each reached into their own asses and pulled out the magic wands. Mrs. Weasley cast a spell in which Ron grew five elastic penises which proceed to fuck her in the pussy, the asshole, the mouth, the ear, and the nostril. Mr. Weasley stuck his wand in Ginny's vagina and cast a spell which made the wand fuck her while light proceeded to shine out of every orifice in her body.

Then Mr. Weasley took his wand out of Ginny and cast a spell which turned the entire area around the family into shit. The family rolled around the shit, grabbing handfuls and spooning it into their mouths.

After a minute of this rolling, when the family was totally covered in shit, they stood in formation, the children in front and the adults in back, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley cast a spell which made all of their bodies explode in a pyre of blood, guts, shit, and semen. The Agent was completely covered. All that remained was the four sets of lips of the family lying in a row on the stage saying "TA-DA!"

The Agent wiped himself off and said, "That's quite an act. What do you call it?"

The Weasley lips all shouted "THE ARISTOCRATS".

After a moment, the Agent replied, "I already have an act just like it".