yesterday woke up with "take me higher," by damn yankees in head. had fallen asleep on ipod up here in the mountains. have not been able to shake beef jerky craving ever since. ted nugent why do you do this to me. have been listening to npr for hour hoping would quell meat craving, has not. hoping to find the video of my friends husband when he was 14 in lip synch contest to queen sychre, wearing tightest pants known to man (in wisconson circa 1989ish maybe). she is a lucky woman. and a fucking vegetarian. i am going to saddle up one of their three large dogs and ride it to town go get my self a meat stick. oh and some more tequila the stars are so twinkly here. smells good too burning wood and grass. metal in all it's forms molds my life the cover of Quiet Riot's "Metal Health" album gave me delicious nightmares as a tyke. i touch myself still to tattered photo's of Nikki Styxx. i don't know what i would do with out christian metal. my dear friend matt (of the lip synch) is wonderful enought to have very special relics. last evening as we sat up here in his and racheal's house in the mountains, out was whipped a tape of Stryper in tokyo in 1980. after the concert they had a special message for a nafka yid like me; "Stryper stands for Salvation Through Redemption Yielding Peace, Encouragement and Righteousness." thank you i am saved now. "god made music he made country, rap and heavy metal, god doesn't judge" thanks Stryper but i don't think god would approve of those lycra pants and all that nipple exposure, i guess god make aquanet too huh?

OKAY THIS IS REDUNDANT BUT IT REALLY PISSED ME OFF somebody took my tire and rim! left the mother fucking car up on a jack and just made off with them. now this brings three things to my attention: WHY JUST TAKE ONE? IF YOU ARE GONNA BE A THIEF DON'T UNDER ACHIEVE. any one paying really high rent to live in "east" williamsburg can get off their hip high horse and eat me because the shit is still bushwick. it is what brooklyn and tampons have in common and it is still the ghetto. why take the cheap aluminum rim of a vw when there are all the fun spinners and shiny rims all up and down the street. surely these must be worth more crack in street trade and make a lovely ashtray for mom. well at least they left three out of four lug bolts so i could put the spare on. it went flat and the rim of it was destroyed of course so i just got really drunk and got to ride around on a motorcycle. felt like i was in breakin 2 well if any one see's a 12 yr old wearing a vw rim as a necklace tackle him for me we need to talk. mother fucker

and then the 1990's bit me in the ass... 1) back in school: check 2) moved back home: check 3) uncontrollable urge to dye hair with manic panic found in closet: check 4) offered 'e' pill by friend while drinking in basement on long island: check yep it's 1999... the pill is in the bottom of my purse, I am not quite sure what to do with it. a friend who I have known for over a decade was musing about throwing a 1993 bbq to celebrate his moving to ny ( I think it's actually to celebrate his platonic man love for another mutual friend, who doesn't know his anniversary date with his girlfriend of 5 years, just his straight male bf, this is just conjecture.) in 1993 I transfered in to public school (HHS go devils... this may be the first time I have uttered this) from a jewish parochial school on long island. clearly wanting to dress to impress this new brood of economically and racially diverse cohorts I carefully planned my first day of school outfit. white denim GAP short shorts, a flannel sleeveless green plaid shirt tied at the waist and a choker made of fabric daisies. hey weirdo, why do you remember that??? well deprecatory inner-monologue, because this was a new chapter of my life, rife with catholics and new friends, some of who are still my best gals to this very day. this was the first chapter in my personal new testament a gospel of teen angst, oddly dyed hair, blue christmas lights, smoking pot out of empty coke cans at carnivals, exile to guyville on repeat, half-assed vegetarianism, first kisses and heart breaking crushes. and river phoenix, who my 10th grade year book is dedicated to (not formally) where on the first page the school has been x'd out with a sharpie and glue on top is headshot of river followed by an epitaph also in sharpie. in his picture river is also wearing a sleeveless flannel. maybe I was more on point then I knew?

While trying to figure out why the incompetence of every cab driver I have (ever) seems to directly correlate to how drunk I am while in transit. I decided to do some mathematical exploration to see if perhaps there was an unknown equation, one I was not familiar with, and an algorithm perhaps that held the explanation for this phenomenon.

Or even better an unfinished one which I could solve earning my place in the scientific record ( or at least bestowing on me the wisdom to choose a cab that could circumnavigate the five Boroughs after being giving specific turn by turn directions by me, which I always do).

Never being particularly mathematically minded in the past I realized that I saw potential life changing equations all around me in my life that just needed to be explored. My life whisked into an egghead's omelet could solve the world's (or at very least some of my own) problems. Now hell bent on helping not just my self save a couple of dollars, some agitation and the possibility of vomiting in a taxi but contributing to society in a profound way I set to work.

If you use more than one variable, go back and substitute known relationships for the additional variables. When it comes to solving the equation, you want to solve for just one variable. You can often rewrite all the variables in terms of just one.

For example: If you let (A) represent the number of Sarah’s whiskeys and (B) represent a given cabby’s brains cells, but you know that Sarah has had four more whiskeys than cabbie has brain cells, then (A) can be replaced with (B)+4.

A = B + 4

In conclusion no matter how deep into the Jameson I am, my cab driver is a douche bag and I am a fucking genius! For being able to read signs.

Like:
- 44 Astoria blvd west LOOKS DIFFERENT THAN 41 GRAND CENTRAL PARKWAY East!
- This also the difference between 15$ and 28$.

Obviously I shouldn't have to pay for his gross negligence, literary, algebraic or the general inability to listen to directions while talking on the damn phone.

Unfortunately Achmed doesn't quite see this and I,
(A)+high heels= slip and fall squared.
After being called, what sounds something like a humpless camel (please Achmed it's a push up lets not exaggerate)? Tip is refused (B+4) >B=B-T.

All in all we have learned that:

(A+W)<(S-$)= FUCK I was never any good at math!

I was inside for 15 minutes.
Somebody (le douchebag) took my tire and rim!
Left the mother fucking car up on a jack and just made
off with them.

Now this brings three things to my attention:
WHY JUST TAKE ONE? IF YOU ARE GONNA BE A THIEF DON'T
UNDER ACHIEVE.
Any jack-ass paying really high rent to live in "east"
Williamsburg can get off their hip high horse and eat
me because the shit is still Bush (what do tampons and Brooklyn have in common)wick is still the ghetto bitches. Nice to let the real estate agent sucka you.
Why take the cheap aluminum rim of a VW when there are all the fun spinners and shiny rims all up and down
the street.
Surely these must be worth more crack/cocaine/baby powder in street trade and make a lovely ashtray for mom.
Well at least they left three out of four lug bolts so I could put the spare on.
It went flat and the rim of it was destroyed of course, so i just got really drunk and got to ride around on a
motorcycle (B-O-O-T-A-Y).
Felt like i was in breakin 2, but white, not saving anything and really bad at break-dancing.
Well if any one sees a 12 yr old wearing a VW rim as a necklace, props to him for styling.
If you see an 'artist,' wearing the same accessory on the way to buy heroin for inspiration, after stopping an buying 300$ jeans with his dad's AMEX, tackle him for me we need to talk.
mother fucker!

brown honda
1989-2005
R.I.P

born in ft. lauderdale florida where it spent the
first decade of it's life being driven very slowly by
an old man in white tasseled loafers. upon his passing
it worked through it's grief by hitchhiking up to ny
to live with his granddaughter. where it underwent a
life style change to say the least. it has enjoyed all
you who have ridden in it on it or around it. slept in
it and loved the places it has been.
on sunday surrounded by the city it loved so much it's
timing belt snapped causing fatality.
many thanks to all who have rescued it
the high strung
greg
mike
the guy who had that rope on st. marks place once
and any one else who has been there when the car was
lost, relocated , smashed, or just needed some
additional screws in non-traditional places to hold it
together.
no service will be held according
to the family's wishes
donations can be made in check form to sarah.

the sisters of mercy have departed
I cleaned my car out of a snow drift with a leg warmer I found in the back seat...
I do not know who this leg warmer belongs to?
if it is yours i am sorry.