224 Ave B Nostalgia.
Noah is in the midst of writing a paper for his Travel Writing class. He told me he had written a paragraph about living on our couch for a month last summer. The results were fantastic. It really takes me back to this summer and that wretched apartment we endured for what seemed to be years. Well done Chernin.
For the month of August I lived above Mona's, a quaint Irish pub on the west side of Avenue B at 14th street. Mona's is one of those places recognizable only by the circular Guinness advertisement on the outside of the door, a statement of the New York chic in an otherwise neglected, Hispanic part of town. I squatted on my friend Jay's futon in the smallest piece of shit two bedroom apartment this side of Broadway. The place was a sin den laced with cigarette butts crawling out of ashtrays, half empty Budweiser tallboys, and cheap marijuana smoke. A black trunk once used to send Jay to sleep away camp doubled as both kitchen and coffee table. Each night I'd drink myself to sleep to drown out the bass that seeped through the beer stained carpets and the late night arguments that made their way through the broken, rarely cracked windows that couldn't afford to be fixed or let in any daylight.
Also on the Noah front, he dropped me an email stating that Ted Leo will be at HiFi tonight celebrating the release of his live DVD Dirty Old Town which was recorded at Coney Island. Ted will be hanging out from 8pm-10pm.
On a side note, I still disagree with Karen. Rivers Cuomo can have my babies anytime. Ted is cool and all, but come on, its Rivers.
Noah is in the midst of writing a paper for his Travel Writing class. He told me he had written a paragraph about living on our couch for a month last summer. The results were fantastic. It really takes me back to this summer and that wretched apartment we endured for what seemed to be years. Well done Chernin.
For the month of August I lived above Mona's, a quaint Irish pub on the west side of Avenue B at 14th street. Mona's is one of those places recognizable only by the circular Guinness advertisement on the outside of the door, a statement of the New York chic in an otherwise neglected, Hispanic part of town. I squatted on my friend Jay's futon in the smallest piece of shit two bedroom apartment this side of Broadway. The place was a sin den laced with cigarette butts crawling out of ashtrays, half empty Budweiser tallboys, and cheap marijuana smoke. A black trunk once used to send Jay to sleep away camp doubled as both kitchen and coffee table. Each night I'd drink myself to sleep to drown out the bass that seeped through the beer stained carpets and the late night arguments that made their way through the broken, rarely cracked windows that couldn't afford to be fixed or let in any daylight.
Also on the Noah front, he dropped me an email stating that Ted Leo will be at HiFi tonight celebrating the release of his live DVD Dirty Old Town which was recorded at Coney Island. Ted will be hanging out from 8pm-10pm.
On a side note, I still disagree with Karen. Rivers Cuomo can have my babies anytime. Ted is cool and all, but come on, its Rivers.
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