Monday, October 18, 2004

Whateva, yo. Brad Pitt can kick Cock Robin's ass.

First rule of Fight Club: YOU DON'T TALK ABOUT FIGHT CLUB
Second rule of Fight Club: YOU DON'T TALK ABOUT FIGHT CLUB
Third rule of Fight Club: DON'T BE A TOURIST OR A PUSSY???

Interesting that there has to be rules in an organization responsible for Project Mayhem and Marla's unmanagable hair. Does everything in life require rules? I am Colette's lack of surprise. I am also a dick masked as a pussy. I saw Team America last night with a pussy masking himself as an asshole.

Team America, hilarous satire, but that is besides the point... I learned that dicks fuck pussy but pussy can't fuck assholes but dicks can fuck them all. This philosophy is supposed to connect to our current government but lets just stick to the facts presented.

So my date, MARC SICILANO, was an asshole and the fucker made me pay for my cappucino. He was an asshole because he only talked about dick and pussy until finally I told him that I HAD a dick so that he would fucking leave me alone. Then he made me pay for my cappucino. Funny enough, he wasn't that bad throughout the date which makes me feel like a pussy for wanting to stick around or a just a callous mercenary looking for a meal ticket...but then again he doesn't want to pay for me anymore so he is of no use to me now. Gosh, I am Colette's lack of sounding like a dick again.

***Whateva, yo***

FRIDAY. I head over to BGA's for a cocktail party in gramercy park. I had a blunt stuffed into my lime green wallet cuz I knew I was gonna get blazed with some homies. LEX, her friend DAVE from Chicago and I got fucked up on BGA's rooftop. I started laughing uncontrollably...

LEX: No one gets the joke, COLETTE

COLETTE: That the point. NO ONE EVER GETS THE JOKE.

So we go back downstairs. Trying be quiet, calm sophisticates on the couch in front of BGA's family, we change the tv channel to VH1 CLASSICS. The hellatious video from the band COCK ROBIN plays. Never heard of this band and I am so thankful to GOD that they did not have any influence on my life whatsoever because I would be a raging pussy right now. Imagine a cross between my thoughts of the applachia mountains and Micheal Bolton made complete with unibrows and square dancing shirts. LEX was trying so hard to appear normal but I could sense my friend's thoughts melting into her hot slice of pizza so I lean in and say...

"Hey, I bet you 10 cents this band's named COCK ROBIN."

We laughed.

YOU OWE ME 10 CENTS, BITCH.

After literally exchanging "whatevs" with BGA's COOLEST COUSINS in the world, I get my stuff together and head over to the CELLAR BAR to meet TOUCHSTONE and her new beau. TOUCHSTONE is drunk and I am still high. We are ingenues in a world full of overexposures. She understands where I am coming from. Anyway, her sister is there with cigarettes...she gave me one. I am Colette's lack of orginality.


***YOU'RE JUST A FUCKING TOURIST***

So Marla was a tourist to Edward Norton's spilt personalites. Visiting his support groups, she invaded Ed's places of solace. They were total opposites, just as my date, MARC SILCIANO, was mine. Visiting the dating world is a wasteful annoyance. He resented paying for my movie, I resented paying for my cappucino. Neither of us got laid last night. FUCK YOU, MARC SICILANO and FUCK YOU, THE BOOK OF RULES, MOST OF ALL.

I finally left him in front of the UNION SQUARE train station. I gave him a nice smile and a kiss on the cheek in the event that he wants to take me out again and treat me to another movie. I walked over to the other side of the square where the stairs are and I lit up a camel true tourist-y style. I burned my right index finger trying to align the fire from my match with end of my cigarette...LEX called moments later.

She's chilling at BGA's, so I walk over. I needed some time to kill before meeting KKEGEL at CRASH MANSION to check out BALISTICA, a band she met at the CMJ FESTIVAL this past week. I am Colette's lack of interest in documenting the minutes between hanging at BGA's place and going to the club to see the band.

Its at CRASH MANSION that I immediately start chatting with BALISTICA's drummer. He is a brown skinned puertoricano who felt comfortable touching my orange beret as I bent over to sign his mailing list. I asked him if he could explain his band's sound to me.

DRUMMER: Well what kind of music are you listening to right now?

COLETTE: Well, you know what... my theme song is... DANGEROUS TYPE by THE CARS.

DRUMMER: (ha ha) We have an 80s influence but there is still that punk element in our sound. You know, breakin' shit and stuff...

COLETTE: but you seem so neat and orderly...

DRUMMER: Is that how you flirt?

Anyway, he handed me his camera and asked me to take pictures of the band. My evolution from a groupie into a groupie band photographer took only moments on the tourism express. My pictures sucked. I think I shot most of their band action without covering the lens with my finger. I went over to the DRUMMER after the show to give him back his camera....

DRUMMER: So what did you think?

COLETTE: I thought you guys were awesome. There is definitely a quality about you that sets you apart from most bands that I see lately.

DRUMMER: Well, its great to hear that from such a smart girl like you.

COLETTE: Yeah, well I am brilliant.

he stares.

COLETTE: I'm being facetious.

he hugs me because he has never heard that word before.

WHATEVER.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

Ahh, YUMMICOCO...everything and nothing happens at the same time. Unfortunately, sometimes you find that everything can be nothing, in a quick blink of an eye. I have no new beau - an apparition of one exists. But as soon as you find the true nature of what they want - then you find yourself brushing the dust off your feet and moving on.

-TOUCHSTONE-

Av said...

Wow.
That was the 2nd most interesting thing I've read all day.
Sorry, but nothing beats the latest TPS reports.

yummicoco said...

I don't know if I should be offended about being the 2 most interesting thing to read. what's a tps report?

yummicoco said...

that's too bad, rhoum about the iowa guy. yeah, you were right not to hang with him after cellar bar. he talked like a simple farmhand -which totally appeals to my sense of romanticism but whatever its for the best.

Av said...

Yeah. It's just that we're putting new coversheets on all the TPS reports *before* they go out now. So if you could just remember to do that from now on, that'd be great. Alright!

yummicoco said...

oh office space! right?

Av said...

Ding Ding Ding, we have a winner.
I was gonna say something sarcastic, but I thought I'd just do that quote and see if you are really cool enough for me to read your blog.
Luckily you passed.
Also too bad you never got to see the O face of Marc.
Just a little blogger tip since you're new at this:
It might not be a great idea to include the first and last name of somebody you went out with. He or somebody else might do a google search and not be pleased to know that he's been called out as a lousy date on the internet.
But whatever, and totally a great post, keep it up.

yummicoco said...

ha! that's the point, av. its my passive aggresive way of outing a lousa! one of my friends thought that I sounded 100% insane in this post but she still loves me though.