Okay, I admit it: I've never snorted coke off a toilet tank in a seedy bar. Nor have I entered a cramped men's room for a clandestine romp with a lady. So you'll forgive my ignorance, but somebody tell me, what the hell is the allure of either of these activities?

I'm a live-and-let-live kinda guy. Other people's behaviors are no big whoop to me. But when I really have to pee and there's 20 other people in front of me in line to the bathroom, my generosity puckers to the size of a urethra. When I see two people exiting a bathroom meant for single usage, I rarely believe that they're saving time by peeing in the sink.

I don't know how often sex is going on in these small spaces, but come on, people, can't you wait? Even if you have a roommate and paper-thin walls, you'll probably do a better job at home. I know, I know, it's a real thrill to diddle some drunk teenybopper over a backed-up toilet, and maybe somehow this thrill extends to seeing how many people you can back up outside the door.

The vast majority of toilet couplings is probably the drug-doin' variety. I honestly don' t know how long it takes to snort of couple of lines apiece, but whatever it is, it's taking too long! I have nothing against cocaine, empirically. I wouldn't do it myself as I'm sure it would turn me into the supreme asshole I barely contain while sober. But I cannot abide its presence when it stands in between me and my urgency.

What is the deal with this practice? There's this fetishistic connection between coke and bathrooms. Like people saw some movie from the 80's and decided that any time they're out on the town, they simply must do the snorting away from prying eyes. Gimme a break, folks. Let's get a little creative, shall we?

If you just can't make it through the end of the band's set without a bump, here's an idea: dry out an old bottle of nasal spray decongestant and fill it up with yer bing. Then, at the appropriate time, whip it out and suck it up like that guy who momentarily makes Bill Murray jealous in Ghostbusters. If your friend wants some too, pass it over. Wow! Instead of taking 10 minutes and irritating a multitude of people (before you even have the chance to do it yourself with your charming coked-up personality), it now takes 10 seconds!

Once, at Royal Oak Bar, I don't know why I was there, some dude sidled up to our booth and slid in unannounced. He put his finger to his lips and mouthed "Shhhh." He then produced a small amount of cocaine, which he honked up swiftly. And then he was off. Think of how many people he spared through his industrious action. Let's all take a page from this hero's book.

I was slowly wandering back to work when I was halted by what appeared to be every single mounted cop in town. They were all parading down Church Street in front of the WTC site. I have no idea why, but it was amusing. More photos.

UPDATE: So the parade was to attend some memorial at the WTC site, but these horses were here from all over to participate in a police equestrian competition in Jersey over the weekend. And look, my handiwork is mentioned on Gothamist. I am really, really cool.

Dear god, this is pathetic, but I'm sick of my malfunctioning, impossible-to-maintain blog. I started the old blog script with the notion that as my skills increased, I would get fancier and fancier, taking pride in the knowledge that I did it all myself (the script was a hacked guestbook, I implemented everything and manually archived everything). But what I didn't count on was me getting stupider over the years. Now, I not only don't have time (read: interest) to debug the blog, I have forgotten most of what I taught myself about Perl and CGI since then. Worse, I dont' seem to have the patience to learn Moveable Type. So I'm back to using Blogger until I can come up with something better. Whoop Dee Doo!