Tag Archives: east village

The Best Karaoke in NYC

Posted by plumpdumpling on March 12, 2009 – 2:13 pm
Filed under all of my friends are prettier than i am, music is my boyfriend
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I was actually in a non-salty mood for the first Friday in ages, so I convinced some of my ladyfriends (and Steven) to go out for another round of karaoke to make up for our last sad, sad display. This time we went back to our usual spot, Sing-Sing Karaoke, which was introduced to us by Emily ages ago and which I’m going to argue is the best karaoke in New York City in terms of song offerings and awesomeness of facilities, though their private rooms get snatched up too quickly because of how great they are.

We went straight from work, which meant that we were the first ones there and got to take advantage of their $5 per person/hour private room happy hour rate and half-priced drinks. The drinks being the reason you will not see any photos of me in the following collection.

The drinks also being the reason Steven looks like he’s soooooooo into this beautiful ballad until you notice that the words on the screen are “till you holler for more”:

and the reason Jessica looks like she’s never enjoyed a tortilla chip from Chipotle more than she’s enjoying this one:

and the reason Melvin has five chins:

and the reason Jenny and Jessica actually sang a song without being threatened into it (and why Jenny may be throwing up here):

and the reason Emily is singing “867-5309/Jenny” for the second time that night in honor of Jenny with her hand in her crotch:

Okay, no, I’m kidding; we each had, like, one drink. But there’s really no other explanation for this stuff.

Hugs, Blood, Death, and Rockstars of the String

Posted by plumpdumpling on December 10, 2008 – 11:11 am
Filed under fun times on the subway, living in new york is neat
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As I stepped out of Kamran’s apartment building yesterday morning and passed the park that lines his walk, I saw a woman coming out with a baby strapped to her front in one of those canvas harnesses. The idea of being hauled around in one of those has always appealed to me, but this one actually made me straight-up jealous: the baby was wearing a fuzzy brown fleece one-piece suit with bear ears on its hood. And his arms were wrapped around his mother’s stomach, his head pressed to her warm belly as she hugged him in the cold. It looked like the coziest, lovingest thing ever.

Then, when I got down into Grand Central, there was a scantily-clad man–I’m talking wifebeater made into a half-shirt here–playing some really sexy music on an electric violin. “Sexy music coming from an electric violin, the inherently lamest instrument ever?” you might ask. But yes, it totally was. And it was only made sexier by the fact that he had his eyes closed and his head thrown back, clearly enjoying what he was doing. Which made me smile so much that I had to turn away. Nice start to my day, right?

But THEN, I was getting off the 4 train at Bowling Green before work, and as I was waiting in the huge line that forms before the staircase leading up to the street, this Italian-looking guy in his 30s came stumbling through the crowd with BLOOD FLOWING DOWN HIS FACE. He was like, “Excuse me, please,” and politely made his way down the stairs while all of us stood and stared, and then he hopped into the train as if everything was fine.

And THEN, I was on my way to get my hair cut last night when I heard a woman telling the booth attendant at the 8th Street R stop about a man on the staircase. I assumed she was complaining about a disruptive homeless fellow, but when I got to the stairs myself, I saw nothing but a very well-dressed older guy who happened to be holding up the line to the street by taking a loooooooooooooong time on each stair and intermittently slumping toward the wall as if he was having trouble standing. Turns out he was having a HEART ATTACK right there in front of me. But naturally I continued on, selfish and vain as always.

NEW YORK!

Restaurant Review: Pommes Frites

Posted by plumpdumpling on September 8, 2008 – 12:08 pm
Filed under it's fun to be fat, living in new york is neat, restaurant ramblings
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If there’s one thing I appreciate about New York City, it’s that despite the fact that everyone here is thin, everything begs us to be fat. A Salt & Battery in the West Village, for instance, has a daily menu that includes deep-fried candy bars. Which is, you know, the sort of thing you should only be able to get once a year at a county fair if you don’t want to have a heart attack and die at age 32.

And even worse is Pommes Frites, which is an entire restaurant devoted solely to french fries covered in your choice of 25 different sauces. The fries come in cones that are listed as Regular, Large, and Double but should be called Enough for Two, Enough for Twelve, and Enough for the Entire Neighborhood. They’re the giant Belgian fries that you think will be super-mushy but are actually plenty crunchy, even when drowned in Pomegranate Teriyaki Mayo. If you’re looking for recommendations, Kamran enjoys the War Sauce, and I’m a fan of the Wasabi Mayo, though be warned that it will burn your face off. The fry guys are very friendly and will let you try the sauces before you decide on one, so don’t be afraid to sample.

The restaurant itself is a tiny little sliver of a room with the counter up front and a couple of picnic tables in the back. It’s very dark and cozy but usually so crowded that we end up eating outside, either sitting in the two wooden chairs they’ve provided or standing in front of the convenience store next door with the surprisingly impressive array of foreign beers displayed in its window. Like so:

Put this on your List of Things to Do with Katie When I Visit Her.

Boob Job

Posted by plumpdumpling on August 23, 2008 – 3:30 pm
Filed under boobies
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Yea or nay?

Seen on the Subway: Pure Booze

Posted by plumpdumpling on August 20, 2008 – 2:55 pm
Filed under fun times on the subway, living in new york is neat
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This delightful bit of graffiti was on the wall of the L platform at 1st Street:

It’s funny that I didn’t, you know, notice that the Unicef logo on the truck was obscured by the overhead lighting, but I don’t get paid to pay attention, yo.