Um... See for yourself.  Yes, Tom Cruise was in some good movies.  However this montage is over the top.  The music just says it all, egotistical bastard.  Are we really here to celebrate 25 years of Tom Cruise?  I can't believe his official website its like something I've never seen before.  Its beyond absurd and venturing into the insane.  

 

I wonder he actually sat in on the editing board.  I also love how the last screen shot in the reel is from Kubrick's, Eyes Wide Shut.  I just feel like the montage should have included the video clip below.

    I walked home from work today to expel the outrageous caffeine rush I had on an empty stomach.  I hate coffee and don't know why I had some today but I had to walk it out.  If I had decided to take the metro I probably would have freaked out.  I'm walking down Lexington and my iPod is on shuffle, the sun glimmers off of the Chrysler building as I walk past Grand Central as Bob Dylan's Oh Sister winds to a close.  It felt good to be alive.  As the last seconds ticked down I tried to anticipate the next song hoping for a worthy follow-up so I could avoid having to dig in my pocket to press the forward button.  I should start making playlists but there is a strange mystique behind the shuffle function, it excites me.

     Money on my mind, money on my mind, money is all I think about.  FUCK. I thought I deleted this song.  I was about to reach into my pocket and press the double arrows forward.  Then I saw them... The suits.  Suits and skirts everywhere.  This is going to be entertaining I thought.  It was a little bit but then it hit me.  I know how to give this song a proper farewell.  There is only one place I would want to be.  Not Harlem, not Bed-Sty, no that street where wealth is manufactured.  Wall Street here I come.

    I'm going to go down there sometime this week around lunch time or shortly before 4 pm.  I might even bring my camcorder.  Its just too much, its like a sensory overload for me.  I'll just walk around silently mocking everyone around me.  The suits, oh sister, the suits I tell you its gold, pure gold. I'm a cynical bastard sometimes and the great lengths I will go to satisfy my lust for a good laugh is ridiculous. 

 

    Best thing the past 5 days was going to yoga today.  I feel great and can't wait to start the week off right.  I have the Sunday edition of the New York Times sitting next to me with a steaming cup of tea.  I have a head full of ideas.  A new book to read and the mustard stain on my white shorts sorta came out.

    I also enjoyed listening to this song while walking down 4th avenue toward Astor Place.  I looked at the sky and wished that there were no vocals... Would you agree?

    Side Note: The video footage is from Dead Man, a really good Johnny Depp film.  Rent it. 

Heard in SoHo Bloomingdales shoe section. "If I were rich I would come here everyday". Find a new dream lady.  I was infuriated by the statement for some reason.  The way she said it was what really ate at me.  She meant it. I've heard statements prefaced with, "If I were rich..." before but never felt so offended.  I had to get out of that store.

    Is this what people really want? Money... Ugh. Disgusted.  Maybe it was the meal I just ate or maybe I was my regret for suggesting to go to a place I detest so much, whatever the case I felt like finding the most expensive shoe in the store and puking on/in it.

No

    "Who are you texting?"

    Um... Do I know you? Is that any of your business? I met an old friend last night to talk over a couple of beers at Puck Fair.   At some point during our conversation a cougar leaned over and asked me who I was communicating with.  What a way to start a conversation.  From that point on I knew what her objective was for the evening, she had her target and she pounced on it.  I refused to be ravaged.  I must admit I've never been hit on by an older woman, I'm guessing this one was in her early 40's judging by her skin complexion. 

    I was entertained for a little bit.  She tossed out statements that I thought were reserved for junior high school dances such as, "I like your hat!"  Really?  You really like my hat?  I was laughing to myself and neither of us were drunk.  I decided to take the situation to the next level in order to give her hope that she might be having a crazy New York City evening.  I launched a series of questions... Her and her friend (side note... friend was hotter) are doing contract work for advertising company for 6 months in city.  They live in Chelsea, 28th and 10th avenue to be exact.  A follow up question probably would have yielded building and apartment numbers as well as the name of the doorman. 

    She asked if I wanted to go dancing and she asked me where some good places were.  Completely apathetic and bored at this point I just shot off a couple places around the area trying to shake her off my back.  Sensing my waning interest in her situation she pulled out the  guns, her leg started rubbing against mine, "Or we could all go back to my place?"  YES! Thank you for making it interesting... I thought to myself, alright this lady wants something from me that I have no intent in sharing maybe I shouldn't be so cruel.  I slowly phased her out over the next five minutes...

   I left with my friend and patted her on the back on the way out, it was one of those maybe next time pats on the back, but she already had her claws sunk into some other fellow (who seemed genuinely interested in solidifying the fact he is a complete dirt bag).  Looks like you have a winner.

    I was so comfortable this morning I couldn't get up... It wasn't happening. I was looking at the ceiling of a for sign but nothing appeared.

    Then I thought to myself... Every time I'm asked for my age on an internet site or message board when I register the year stays the same but time never looks back.  I'm getting old.  I remember modems.... 1986 was equivalent to 14.  Now its 22.  Funny.

    Then I thought I really need to shave.  This was followed by... I need to go to storage and get some clothes... Then  I wonder what is going on around the world, and finally how irked I was that I got mustard on my white shorts.

 Pow

    I'm wrapping up Bukowski's Women and I'm excited to see how the novel ends.  The tone and style of the book aren't your typical narrative and the possibilities for the end game are driving me mad.  I've restrained myself from reading the last five pages.  I need a resolution or do I?

"Just living until you die is hard work."