Thursday, April 8, 2010

Hot as Balls

So yesterday I sent Claude off to his golf trip like a parent sends their child to camp.  I packed his bag, called a cab and made sure he was home for his pick-up.  I also looked up the weather in Pinehurst, South Carolina.  And it's hot as balls there.  High of 91.

Increasingly there have been hints of seasonal change.  And it looks like spring isn't pump faking this time.  Actually it looks like summer is kind of fist pumping the crap out of spring.  NYC is almost hot as balls.  When I checked yesterday it was 88 (even though it's high says 84).  And today it says high of 79.

But isn't the only barometer of meteorological change.  People are out.  Brooklyn-stoop-sitting-season has begun.  And with that begins the dark side of this bright time.  Cat-calling skyrockets and rims spin to the sound of car basses bumping.  And while today (and yesterday) could be environmental flukes and while we could very well slide nicely back into the spring-I-can-wear-a-light-jacket time.  The weather reminds us of the coming summer.  Which, without school, is kind of bitter-sweet.  I find myself having that middle school glee of 'schools out for summer.'  But then I think...why?  I'm kind of an adult now.  We all are.  The employed still have to go to work and the unemployed have to worry about sweat stains at interviews.

There are a thousand urban hints indicating the coming of warmer weather but (on a different note) I'll focus on the most important benchmark which of course involves my favorite activity, spinning.

Cobble Hill NYSC.   My favorite gym location because of my fabulously gay-dreaded-black-professional-dancer instructor.  Tuesday at 645 and Wednesday at 745 that is where you can find me.  So I was kind of badass yesterday.  I decided to do a double head-er (?) and do pilates after spinning.  It's deadly.  What made it more 'G' ("and I don't mean that in the regular way, I mean it in the way black people use it.  I feel it has more meaning that way" --Zoolander)  was the fact that the air-conditioning was broken...needless to say, it was hot as balls.  And the spin room is entirely lined with mirrors which were fogged after 10 mins of Lady Gaga on techno-crack.  The room was comparable to break dancing in a sauna.  If the lights hadn't been out (I usually like spin classes better that way so i can get really into it without looking like 'that' person)  I'm pretty sure I would've noticed myself starting to black out a few times.

And then I did pilates.  At that point I must've been delirious. because that wasn't that great of an idea....but it seemed like a good idea at the time.  Anywho....Not sure why I've decided to write about the weather when I have many...oh so many more interesting/embarrassing/TMI-filled stories to recount.  But I've been off not blogging and now I need to ease myself back into it.

As a side-note: I think for a while that 'shame' thing came back and I felt a little bad writing my rather inappropriate thoughts and releasing them out in to the www-dot-abyss.  But then there was another issue.  Every time I tried to blog the stories ended up involving vaginas in someway.   Usually mine.  So yeah, I got writers block on vag.  **feel free to laugh/make lesbian comments/request vaginal posts/ask me their topics/suggest or request less bizarre interjections...etc.**  But I'm back in the game and I'm planning a doing a retro 80's night Saturday with CA (bizarre if you knew my experience last weekend and could see that it should've taught me something...but that's a story for another blog post...the next one...and it has computer drawn pictures!!!) so there will be plenty to blog.

Also...a few questions...feel free to answer...I'm kind of a comment whore.

A.  Blogging about your sex/love/I'm-not-really-sure-what-this-is that detrimental to your game?  And I mean 'playa' playa' game' because (also to be blogged) I've become kind of a man-eater.

B.  Replace who-ha with manly-parts?  Is it that weird to be preoccupied/blog about 'your goods' that much?  I ask because who knows when I'll get c***-blocked again.  (and the stars are not for the man-word)  Side-note again: personally I have no beef with that word.  Never really gained the gravity that most of the female sex seemed to clean from it....I actually think its kind of funny....rhymes with grunt, runt, blunt.  It's also short and sweet.  Almost refreshingly masculine instead of flowery and poetic and artistic.  Also it's one syllable and rhymes with a ton of other words...that's just practical

Back to the point:  guys talk about theirs all the time...its not fair.  It's like when I started telling 'yo papa' jokes in high school and all i got were awkward silences?  Why?  Why the double standard?

C.  Oh, last all guys name their penises?  This is kind of poll thing and the more answers I get the more fun a pie chart I get to make.  I just need to judge (scientifically) the veracity of some blanket comments I've been told...

So, people:  Answer any/all of these questions at your leisure or if you have that thing...uhh...watcha call it ..yesh...just had it....hmmm...oh yeah!!...SHAME/embarrassment just holla' at me...through email...

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