Bulletin Board of Bad Behavior

Why?
By McCutcheon

“Why do you write poetry?â€￾

“I don't know
I don't spend more than a few minutes
On each poemâ€￾

“Oh, it shows!â€￾

*************

Things about me
By McCutcheon

I know
No one is special
You don't have to tell
Me twice

And I know
All the many people
In this great big world
Are the same

People are the greatest cliché

But these are the things about me
That make me not like you
But rather
Make me, me

I never eat the last bit of banana
It's just a superstition
I avoid it like I think
That last bit might be poison

I can't drink my coffee to go
If the part that opens
The part with the hole
Is matching the crease of the cup
I need to turn the mouth bit around
To the non-crease side
Before I enjoy the caffeine inside

I like to do laundry
Well, not really
What I really like to do
Is clean the vent of the dryer
Right before I do another load
And gather the old lint in my palm
And hold it there a while

These are a few of the things
That make me, me
Why no one loves me I can't see
It must be because I'm so different and unique

My favorite food is fondue. And I love all kinds of pizza and fresh fruit. The most spiritual food I've ever eaten is sushi. I believe it to be good for the body and soul. There is a Japanese restaurant in my neighborhood. I'm not going to tell you the name or the address. And don't bother to look for it. It is an unassuming place with only four, two seat tables. But the man behind the cutting board knows his stuff. Not only is the sushi fresh, and dominates the rice puff it sits on, but the guy in charge makes up specialty rolls with genius and flair. I haven't had rolls this original and appetizing since my last visit to Laguna Beach. I've never had rolls this good in Japan, where the food is suburb, but very traditionalist. Just a few of this culinary maestro's tricks consist of mixing banana tempura with pumpkin marinated avocado wrapped in pink seaweed. Delicious. Every month he wraps up a few new rolls for enjoyment.

If you know him, and he is in the mood, he will insist on making up something on the fly, that isn't on the menu board. And this happened last tonight. I met this black guy who looked a whole lot like Samuel L. Jackson, and we spent a few hours openly smoking joints, drinking large Japanese beers and eating these fabulous rolls, all to a soundtrack that would make a Sophia Coppola movie blush. You don't get all that at Ave. A Sushi. I walked out barely able to walk. But I had a smile on my face. I said goodbye to Sam.

Later I was made VIP. Free Jack and coke. I did a blizzard of cocaine. At the club, when the bouncer threw me out of the ladies room, I protested, “But I'm doing it off her tits!â€￾ He didn't sympathize. See you in hell.

Marky she is all the rage in New York. Her album 'Ys' is making lots of top ten of the year lists. Anyone who likes the strings of Final Fantasy and loves Kate Bush should check out this strange, beautiful, Sugarcube of a singer.

I think she is just ok. But hot!

I was on my way to tennis. Mike the superintendent from down the block stopped me.

“I read what you wrote,â€￾ he said.

“What?â€￾

“What you wrote about me on your blog.â€￾

“How the hell did you ever find that?â€￾

“I did a search, ya know, one of those search engine things on the Internet. A while ago I typed 'East 18th Street NYC' into Google and it came up.â€￾

“Oh.â€￾

“I've been reading NYC Scribbles for about a year.â€￾

“Oh.â€￾

“I thought we had a nice community here.â€￾

“Yeah.â€￾

“You know, that wasn't very nice.â€￾

“Huh?â€￾

“What you wrote about me. That wasn't very nice.â€￾

“I'm sorry.â€￾

“I don't borrow a dollar every week.â€￾

“I know. I was trying to be funny.â€￾

“I'm gonna pay you back.â€￾

“I know.â€￾

“I'm not slow.â€￾

“I know.â€￾

“I read books. But I'm not gonna read your books.â€￾

“Okay.â€￾

“Why did you write that?â€￾

“Why?â€￾

“Yeah. Why?â€￾

“I don't know. It is kinda what I do. I need to write to feel I'm worth something.â€￾

“So what you do is make up things about people to be funny so you feel better about yourself?â€￾

“Sort of.â€￾

“I don't like you anymore.â€￾

“Yeah. I understand.â€￾

I turned to leave. Mike stopped me.

“Hey, can I have that dollar for the train?â€￾

I gave him a twenty. It was all I had.

“Thanks,â€￾ Mike said. “And Matt?â€￾

“Yeah?â€￾

“I'm a boy. But most days I wish I was a girl.â€￾

Monday night the Kettle of Fish was heaving. And there were orgasmic spurts of happiness as the Packers recovered four interceptions in the first half. Seattle's fair weather fans were distraught as the Pack dominated in the heavy snowfall. And Brett wanted this one. You could see the fire burning in his eyes. And he deserved this win.

If you think of Brett Farve as a super hero (and I do- there is NO other way to think of him) than Donald Driver is his faithful sidekick. And the Superman and Boy Wonder connected for a 48-yard touchdown early in the third quarter. Pack was up 21-12.

But alas, while this was happening, Seattle's own super man, last years MVP, Shaun Alexander was picking up the slack from the bumbling Matt Hasselbeck. Alexander ran for over 200 yards.

We lost a heart breaker in latte land 34-24…

…back in Gotham.

Mike, the sexually ambiguous 40 something super, who works down the street was wearing a worn Packer shirt today. I asked him, “Did you see the game?â€￾ He looked puzzled. He is a little slow, and I don't mean the Canadian glaciers flattening the Wisconsin mountains speed at which he cleans the sidewalk. Of course, he was just wearing a shirt. It wasn't a badge of honor. “No,â€￾ He said. “Hey Matt, can I borrow a dollar for the train?â€￾ Once a week Mike asks to borrow a dollar for the train. And every week I give him one. Today I said, “Get your own God damn dollar for the train.â€￾

I woke up on the wrong side of my Packer pillows this morning.

Sunday the greatest football game was played at Old Trafford, in Manchester, England. English Premier League leaders Man U took on current second place, and last years champions Chelsea. It was a match of two halves. Man U dominated the first half and went into the break with a one-goal lead. Early ...

Yesterday I did nothing. I walked through empty SoHo. I went to the parade. I got soaked and cold. I chill'd out. I watched two football games. Today I ran ten miles, drank ten pints of Guinness, and fucked Garden State ten times. What a difference a day makes. Ten times ten and a day later I feel l...

Last week I was at the Chelsea Art Museum, 556 West 22nd Street, for 'The Food Show- The Hungry Eye' opening and as I wandered over to the corner to look at a painting of a topless woman pouring cornflakes into a bowl, I looked out the window. Across the Hudson I swear I saw the Weehawken Public Lib...

Jesus Christ man! You never listen to Gace Jones with a hangover! Don't you know anything!

But you should check out Disco Years: A powerhouse retrospective in DUMBO. Free drinks!

glad to see you are still getting pickeled enough to enjoy the classics.

Imagine my delight when I learned that there will not only be the normal two NFL football games played today, but actually three. Imagine my dismay when I learned that the third game is only being shown on the NFL Network. Which is a station, oops sorry, a channel I can't get. And I live in Manhatta...

What The Fuck? Naw, same hell. Different day. Have fun stuffing your faces. Gobble Gobble! BAGHDAD, Iraq (AP) - In the deadliest attack since the beginning of the Iraq war, suspected Sunni-Arab militants used three suicide car bombs and two mortar rounds on the capital's Shiite Sadr City slum to kil...

When I lived in France I became very distant from my home country. I only went to visit twice in over twelve years. I never lost what it meant to be an American, but I was increasingly disturbed by the American news. It seemed so foreign.

In the international edition of the USA Today (The New York Times cost too much and didn't come in color) there was a section for every state. There were floods in the Gulf, hurricanes in Florida, and murder in North Dakota. Nothing new, nothing too different than what is happening now.

One weekend I went to a party in Germany. I was at the dinner table, enjoying blood sausage and Riesling when a young man asked me where I was from. I told him Wisconsin. He told me that in Milwaukee a man was chopping up little black kids and eating them.

Oh boy, I thought, here we go again. Living in Paris I had learned to defend the States from the hyperbole image Europeans have against their smug superiority. On many occasions I had to explain that not everyone in America carries a gun. And everyday there isn't a shootout at the OK Corral. The film 'Silence of the Lambs' had recently released in Europe and this guy was getting his movie fiction mixed up with reality.

Of course, the reality was he was right. Jeffery Dalmar was killing kids and eating them. I thought: What The Fuck.

Then one day in a café the Sloth said, “O.J. Simpson stabbed some people and was trying to make a getaway in a white Bronco, and the cops are following him down an L.A. freeway.â€￾

What The Fuck.

I hadn't gotten over the L.A. riots yet.

When you live in Europe these events don't seem like news. They seem surreal. Like they could never happen.

Then I moved back to the states.

9/11!

The biggest What The Fuck of all time.

Now things happen and everything in comparison is little what the fucks.

Bush gets reelected. What the fuck. Katrina hits New Orleans. What the fuck.

A few weeks ago I returned from the Catskills. I passed a newsagent in Port Authority and the front page of the Press exclaims: Indie film darling Adrienne Shelly was murdered in Greenwich Village.

What the fuck.

At first they thought it was a suicide, because the killer tied her up to the shower rod with a bed cover. But then the killer confessed a week later. The killer, a construction worker, an illegal alien from South America, said he did murder because she had complained he was making too much noise.

WTF.

I don't understand why we cause these effects. There is no fate or destiny. This Thanksgiving I give thanks to all humanity, hoping in the future we as a people will cause less What The Fucks. I'm not holding my breath.

I'm on my own today. I tried to go to the parade, normally everyone loves one, but it is raining out. So, I'm gonna feast on the infamous Kyle turkey day dinner.

Main Course: Wild Turkey and Cranberry Vodka.

For Dessert: Pumpkin Ale.

And since every good Thanksgiving meal needs a nice elixir to go with it I'm sticking to my staple November holiday wine, the Beaujolais Nouveau.

It's been busy times this fall. Just survived a visit from the great man of leisure The Sloth and his lovely wife Linda. This time we kept the pills away and instead played many sets of tennis. Maybe it is possible to get older and wiser. Not really, because even though we were well behaved at the p...

John, what are you on? by McCutcheon John, what are you on? I see it in your eyes. I want some too. Share with me. John, what are you on? I want to feel it flow. Take away the blues. Escape this hell. John, what are you on? Help me please. Had the dream last night. Can't live with it. John, what are...