Monday, December 20, 2004


It's hard for me to sit here and entertain you sorry-ass worker bees today...see, I took a few days off this week (and next) for the first time since Coventry, and that shit was hardly a vacation. That was hard goddamn work.

This mini-break, however, will be the ultimate in sloth: several days of waking up according only to my biological clock, which like Mona Lisa Vito's is ticking like this (read: stomping motion with the extended left leg), loafing around the apartment in my fudgies with two fresh jars of delivery service doje, watching movies on demand and classic sports 'rounds the clock, re-watching Stop Making Sense and The Last Waltz for the hundredth time each, catching a second showing of the newly purchased Festival Express, scratching myself incessantly, eating an endless supply of Oreo pudding, Cade Cod Dark Russets and thin pretzel twists, and maybe, maybe if I feel up to walking out right that front door, running only selfish errands that yield fantastic gifts for myself. Yes, I live a productive and meaningful existence. And you're so jealous of my idle bliss.

I did just run two errands actually. Somehow I convinced myself to leave the apartment twice this morning, or as I saw it, a sign of good faith to myself. Perhaps you do this too, but I have to make deals with myself to get anything accomplished or to stop myself from doing something. So I had to get out this morning, had to. Otherwise, there's a slight chance had I not exited the building this morning, the next time I'd emerge from this cocoon of indolence would be Thursday morning at the earliest. And by slight chance, I mean a virtual guarantee, and by Thursday morning, I mean January 4th. First, I went to the bagel store to procure a half-dozen of those fuckers, which will most likely serve as my next six meals, as well as a tasty fuckin' Nesquik, ultimately returning home to the warmth of indoors for my breakfast. Feeling good, feeling good...

Then I decided to trek across town to Best Buy, with an impromptu stop at the Bed, Bath & Beyond down the street. Apparently I strictly shop at stores that feature alliteration using our alphabet's second letter. Best Buy was a somewhat miserable experience, but keeping in view my rule about selfish presents this week, I gleefully skipped out of there with a sweet little portable DVD player, the Two-Disc Anniversary Edition of Field of Dreams and Forrest Gump for $170. Peace, love, doooope. That's a score. I don't treat myself presents like that often, but after a nice gift like that, I'm definitely gonna get lucky tonight. Good thing I bought new sheets at Bed, Bath & Beyond. C'mon, that's funny. And true.

Best Buy wasn't too packed, but for a Monday at noon it was annoyingly "cozy." This one pregnant lady kept accidentally hitting me with her bag while we both perused the DVDs, and after about the fourth time I considered strangling her and gutting...okay okay, I'll stop there before I get in too deep. A-G-Uno tells me it's still officially" too soon" on that front. For the record, that pregnancy story makes me think the absolute worst about mankind. I almost threw up twice while reading it. Let's just move on...

Actually, I'm gonna leave it here for now and go enjoy some time off away from the computer. Well, I'll probably be sitting here all day since it's colder than Ted Williams' decapitated head outside, but I just don't feel like writing any more. I'm about five hours into this thing and I've already taken about 16 bingers. It's days and weeks like this that once led me to publicly proclaim myself the Wilt Chamberlain of Bong Hits.

The Arrested Development line of the week: "Maybe I'll put it in her brownie." Or, a close second, "Like the guy in the $4,000 suit is gonna hold the elevator for you, c'mooon."

Oh yes, I forgot to mention, the Jets are fucking awesome. Fuck you Patriots, you're walkin' into the Meadowlands this Sunday, but you limpin' back. Seventh second half shutout of the year, seven. Curtis and LaMont running for more than 200 yards. And Chad Sexington, welcome home. It's gonna be a great week of optimism.


At 11:19 AM, Blogger ethan said...

hopefully right now ace is sitting around his living room in a bathrobe and thong, snorting lines while a small topless asian man throws snaps around the room. ace, if you are, i say "big ups to ya!"* if not, well, i hope you are watching porn on that new dvd player and drinking scotch out of a styrofoam cup.

and now on to the (hanging) chad pennington matter - total bullshit, right? the jets tear up a potential playoff team, and the headlines are all talking about chad's tiff with the media? i mean the jets (maybe) could've lost that game (if alexander doesn't fumble, and that forward progress garbage isn't balled on lamont) - write about that. their offense looked great - write about that. the d: great - write about that. not this player-media crap.

yeah, i admit it. i think pennington is dreamy. he's well spoken, unassuming, and reserved (on and off the field). plus his touch is sick (that TD to moss was a lot harder than it looked). his interview monday with reporters was excellent, putting those beat writers in their place. pennington and jeter should be friends.

i'm just waiting for herm and the other jets to start ripping the NY media for blowing this out of proportion.

At 11:20 AM, Blogger ethan said...

i forgot to include this:

* anyone seen this show? hbo rules.

At 12:40 PM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

Ethan, agreed, I was actually going to post this morning about Chad Sexington and the media flap, but I don't really want to add to the noise. But more importantly, after a win like that, I don't want to distract myself from the ultimate prize. I mean, I'm serious as a heart attack that the Jets have a shot to win it all. Most people laugh at me, and they have that right, but what is the best way to win a championship? Rushing game and defense, right? Well, with Curtis and LaMont looking like a duo that could rush for 200 yards every game out and a defense that pitched its seventh second half shutout of the year, we have just as good a shot as anyone. Chad is kinda hit or miss these days, but he definitely has the composure to bring us to the Super Bowl. Don't mess with us, we're gonna turn some heads this January. So let the media talk, let the Jets fly under the radar, and then watch us pounce on the competition when it counts...

I'm currently wearing blue sweatpants and a white t-shirt. The asian girl left an hour ago and my bathrobe's in the washer now.


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