After a tip from my super-Innanet-savvy co-worker Anthony, I sent Kamran this graphic from doodie.com:
And then we said this:
a) That’s why I love him, and
b) that’s why I love Gmail Chat.
Author Archives: plumpdumpling
Poop of Love Deux
Filed under creepy boyfriend obsession, potty mouth
Tagged as creepy boyfriend obsession, potty mouth
Tagged as creepy boyfriend obsession, potty mouth
Correspondingly, We’ve Never Been to a Drive-In Movie Together
Filed under creepy boyfriend obsession, living in new york is neat
Tagged as creepy boyfriend obsession, living in new york is neat
Tagged as creepy boyfriend obsession, living in new york is neat
After a rooftop barbeque in Brooklyn on Saturday night, our friend Jeff offered to drop us off at Kamran’s apartment on his way home. As Kamran and I buckled ourselves in, we realized that in nearly three years of dating, it was the first time we’d ever been in a car together.
How totally New York City is that?
That’s not my boob he’s gnawing on, I swear.
I came up near to you
My arm around your waist
I was wanting to get to know you
Lean in and get a taste
I could hear your heart beating
And I found I wanted to eat your heart up
Chew it up and swallow
Get your blood to flow through my head
Oh no . . .
If I were to eat your heart up
And get your blood to flow in my wake
I’d be on to make the same mistake again
With someone else
You would be so easy to eat
You would be so easy to eat
You would be so easy to eat
– The Blow, “My Heart”
Why, Yes, You Can Place My Napkin on My Lap for Me, Mr. Fox
Isn’t it ridiculous how something as simple as a reference to a seriously old TV show on a dinner reservation can totally make my day?
Although Matthew Fox is alive and well in my heart thanks to “Lost” marathons at Tracey’s apartment when I’m visiting Ohio and should be, you know, spending time with my family and changing out of my pajamas at some point in the day.
Harold and Maude and Bryant Park
Filed under living in new york is neat, there's a difference between films and movies
Tagged as bryant park, living in new york is neat, there's a difference between films and movies
Tagged as bryant park, living in new york is neat, there's a difference between films and movies
I saw Harold and Maude in Bryant Park on Monday night. And when I say I “saw” it, I mean it, because I heard exactly three lines in the movie:
1) “Sagging breasts and flabby buttocks.”
2) “Do you enjoy knives?”
3) “I love you.”
And actually, I didn’t even really hear the second line; Beth had to tell me what it said. See, I arrived at Bryant Park for this week’s installment of the Summer Film Festival a full hour and a half before the movie started, but when I met up with my co-worker Steve, he said the place had already been packed for a while. There was absolutely nowhere to sit in the grass, so Steve, Beth, Emily, Jeff, our new German intern Niko, and I ended up on the concrete stairs, miiiiiiiiiiiles away from the screen with our view partially blocked by the motorhome that the movie was being projected from.
I’ve never seen Harold and Maude, but even without being able to make out any of the dialogue, I thought I’d pieced the story together pretty well until I got back to Kamran’s apartment. It was then that he said, “Yeah, wasn’t it totally crazy how [that really important thing] happened?”, and I said, “Oh, I had no idea [that really important thing] happened.” And now the movie’s ruined for me. But not for you, because I save spoilers for the comments section. Love you!
From what I gathered, though, it’s a really lovely movie. Both because Harold is uber-hot in a pasty white boy way, and because Cat Stevens does the soundtrack. The audience was swooning all over the opening credits:
It felt sort of magical, I’ll admit, listening to Cat and watching Harold reject all of the college ladies who want him, surrounded by these giant buildings with the lights from Times Square reflecting off of them. The only problem I had was that there were homeless people there. I felt sort of weird for hating them, because I generally try pretty hard to keep my feelings toward the less fortunate in the neutral to hopeful range. And, like, the outdoors belong to these people, you know?, so it’s almost like I was watching my movie in their living room. But I pay my taxes and patronize summer film series sponsors, and therefore I deserve things like a decent seat away from the less hygienic, am I right?
