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Late last night the local Fox affiliate here in Boston reported that Julio Lugo was taking a little trip to his native Dominican Republican [sic].
That is all.
Overheard in the gym:
Don Juan: Yeah, I just never found the right crop to sow my oats in, you know?Friend: Ha ha. Yeah! [High fives]
Overheard on the B subway:
Guy #1: Damn, did you hear that? Why’d she not want me? Did she say my age? Damn. My age?Guy #2: Son, that’s why I say, just don’t ask the age. If you don’t ask, then you don’t know, and if you don’t know, it’s not your fault, cause you didn’t know.
“I’m telling you, man, they wrote the bible thousands of years after Jesus, so how do we know any of it’s true?”
This morning, on the metro from Arlington, VA into DC, a man’s voice came over the PA system:
Next stop, Foggy Bottom, George Washington University. This is the first stop in the District of Columbus.
I have heard the same thing at least twice before, and have heard testimony that it is a regular phenomenon.
UPDATE: A Google search seems to reveal that the DC d.m.v. has made the same booboo.
I don’t know why this just popped into my head. I’ll relate it for no particular reason. One of the clerks in our local video store is in a band. Whenever we go in there, he seems to be listening to himself or sulking about how he’s not famous yet. He has a few groupies – high school girls, I would guess – who like to drop in on the store sometimes. Anyway, my wife was in the store once and she overheard the clerk berating one of his groupies for missing a recent show. She kept apologizing for her groupie sins, until finally the clerk said, “Yeah, well, you know what I was wearing that night? This shirt [brandishes shirt]. You missed some serious hotness, ok?”
I just love that. Serious hotness.
On the Brooklyn-bound F-train an hour ago:
Ladies and Gentlemen! Laaaaadies and Gentlemen! 16 Batteries for only one dollar! Just one dollar for 16 Batteries. Triple A, double A. If you got a remote, you gonna need ‘em. If you got kids, you gonna need ‘em. I even heard, if you husband ain’t home, you gonna need ‘em. Laaaadies and Gentlemen!
Speaking of subways, a month or two ago, at the 7th Ave. stop on the same line, I saw two “Wet Paint” signs on a post which had been slightly modified. The first was torn in two, and the “t” in “wet” discarded [update: and the "p" - sorry, I'm an idiot]. The second was torn in two, with the “paint” discarded. (For the slow among you, the result is: “We aint Wet”)
I’ve been enjoying the site Overheard in New York since it’s launch a few weeks ago. Two samples. The first:
Dude #1: I’m gonna stand up as I turn. I’d like you to kick me in the nuts. The idea is to black out, end up in the hospital, and push this off on someone else. Ready?
Dude #2: I was born ready.–59th & Park
And the second:
Don Juan: Sure I got a seven inch dick, but the thing no one ever talks about is I got a seven inch ball sack, too.–Avenue A
They’re not all scatological. Those just happen to be the ones that make me giggle.
Via . . . aw, it was two weeks ago. How do I know?
