Tao of Pauly

Tao of Pauly Rewind: Thursday

I woke up at 6:04am on Thursday and shuffled off to the bathroom. I had to wear my Birkenstocks because the tile floor in the bathroom is as cold as the ice in a hockey rink. I finished taking dump while I read the Sharper Image catalogue. I might consider buying $150 head phones but realized that I'd end up losing them or discover some overweight ad salesman from Maspeth sat on them by mistake on my next flight to Las Vegas.

At 6:25am, I quickly checked my email and to made sure my poker blog was still there. Something I have been doing nonstop since it got hacked last Thursday. Five minutes later, I laced up my sneakers and headed out for a run before I ripped three bong hits.

While jogging, I listened to Okonokos, the live album from My Morning Jacket that was recorded from the Halloween show in 2005. They are great driving music and the perfect music to run through a dark and grey morning. I passed a dozen or so New Yorkers rushing to catch the subway. One ethnic looking woman in a dark pants suit wore the same perfume that an ex-girlfriend wore.

I showered and weighed myself. I was at the same weight when I got back from Europe. I'm still 22 pounds lighter than when I began my diet/exercise routine a month earlier.

Starving, I devoured a banana and skipped the Grape Nuts. I ripped three bong hits then wrote for an hour while listening to The Grateful Dead. I read email after I ripped three more bong hits.

Around 9:29am, Derek sent me an email that said:

"i made it into work on time today but am really hung over... didn't get home until after 2am and i puked pretty hard this morning around 4am..."

I sent a reply to Derek saying, "Drink gingerale," before I wrote for another hour after I taking three bong hits.

At 10:50am, I arrived at the subway station and have only $2 left on my Metrocard. I bought a new $10 one.

On the No. 1 train, I sat down across from a black woman who read the NY Daily News. I opened up my subway book, IV by Chuck Klosterman, which I was more than halfway through.

At 96th Street, a guy wearing a yellow raincoat and a black eye patch walked into the subway. He stood in front of me and held the pole with one hand. he looked like J. Peterman from Seinfeld. He had a pin that said, "Dissent is patriotic."

At 72nd Street, the guy with the eye patch got off. He was replaced by a very very very gay man wearing a pink sweater, a scarf, and $300 leather shoes. I got off at Times Square and I rushed past a school group trying to get on the subway.

The Shuttle to Grand Central Station was covered in an advertisement pimping the 50 Greatest Moments in Madison Square Garden history. An image of NY Knicks guard Walt "Clyde" Frazier greeted me when I entered the subway car. When I exited the shutle at Grand Central, I quickly got irked with the slow walking pace of the people I was stuck behind.

I eventually met Jessica on corner of Lexington and 42nd Street for lunch and we walked over to a diner on 40th and Third, where I ordered a cheeseburger deluxe and an iced tea. Jessica pointed out some corrections for the latest draft of JTSMD that she edited.

On my way back from lunch, I finished Chuck Klosterman's book on the subway. Actually I skimmed the last 30 pages which is sort of a fictional piece called You Tell Me that he wrote about being a movie critic in Akron. It's not as witty or amusing as his music writing so I took the liberty of skimming the rest, just so I can say I read all of his books cover to cover.

When I got home, I emailed one of the publications that I write for my biweekly column after reading it over twice. I knew it was a C+ at beat but I didn't care. Most of the other writers for the same publication are hacks and my shitty work is better than their greatest hits.

At 3:27pm, I got an email from my friend Ryan who had an interesting investment opportunity. He admitted, "You're entitled to exclusive entry in my latest harebrained get-rich-quick scheme."

The last time I partook in a business venture with him, we ended up turning a small profit. While there is no guarantee that we'll have the same results, I was immediately interested in getting involved in another joint business venture.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon compiling the necessary data for the updates for various Pauly's Pub fantasy pools while I watched My Morning Jacket's DVD version of Okononos. I have tickets to two different MMJ concerts over the next six weeks in NYC and San Francisco. Seeing the DVD got me fired up to see my new favorite band.

I stumbled upon the trailer for Rocky 6 aka Rocky Balboa, which I sent to Derek and The Rooster. Five minutes later, the Rooster responded by saying he was doing push ups while watching the trailer for the sixth consecutive time.

Within fifteen minutes of the Stock Market closing, I checked my investments. By then it was 4:20 and I was ready for a smoke break.

Ten minutes later, The Rooster sent me an email explaining the female psyche...

"I wanted the old reliable session...let me pull your hair, keep those tall black boots on from J. Crew and let me pull down your Victoria secret/La Perla panties down to your ankles, pull up that cute Ann Taylor loft skirt that your folks got you for x-mas and let me fuck the shit out of you and jizz on the skirt like Slick Willie did to Monica."

I decided to reread Otis' piece called A Drunkard's Dream and wept.

I bought a ticket on JetBlue leaving JFK on the morning of December 30th and arriving in Long Beach later that afternoon. My tickets to MMJ's New Year's Eve show at The Fillmore in San Francisco arrived the day before and I also got a sweet deal on a hotel room one block from Union Square. All Nicky has to do is rent a car (no way her Satun can make the trip from Hollyweird to Frisco and back) and we're set for NYE.

I also bought my uncle a Rachael Ray cookbook for Christmas via Amazon. He has no idea who she is but his cooking skills could use a boost.

Derek eventually came home from work and bought me a six inch tuna sub on wheat bread. I watched The OC and played in a private tournament that my buddy CC set up. The OC was lame, but Summer is pretty hot.

I eventually went on to win the tournament... which was special because I have not won a tournament in sometime. In the past week I finished 2nd and 3rd respectively in two other tournaments. I guess you can say going 1-2-3 is not too bad in the bigger picture.