Tag Archives: cafe

Enjoying a Slice of NYC Heaven at Bluestone Lane

The Avocado Smash!

Then as the skies opened, and the rain subsided, the Lord said “let there be light”!

Such was the weather recently when I was nearing the end of a rainy 5 mile run in Central Park. As I finished my run on the east side of the park and headed for cover I jogged over to Bluestone Lane, which is housed in a church off East 90th and Central Park on the Upper East Side of NYC.

As the sun came back out I plopped down into a sidewalk table. It’s really a nice spot to grab an iced coffee and bite to eat. Continue reading Enjoying a Slice of NYC Heaven at Bluestone Lane

Hey NYC parents – your spawn are not my problem!

Just be warned in case you ask me to watch your kid......
Just be warned in case you ask me to watch your kid……

Did she just really ask me to watch her spawn from Hell? Now, I am a responsible kind of fellow, and maybe I have that composure of which people seem to trust me for some reason. Yet, here I am baffled as to why someone would entrust a complete stranger with their DNA which plopped out from between their legs in a moment of excruciating agony. Hey, that was your choice lady, not mine. I am childfree by choice, and live a totally fulfilling life, thank you very much. The last thing I want to do is watch your crying, screaming, annoying child while you head to the bathroom to take a dump. Now don’t get me wrong, as I don’t hate childen, no really, but I am just not parent material. People constantly tell me and my gal that I look like I’d make a great dad. Bwahahahahaha! Yeah, this guy who still likes to go out drinking too much, partying too hard, and lives life on a whim. Sorry, I just don’t want to be trapped and looking miserable as I see so many parents here in NYC are. You know the type. They are pushing an oversized baby carriage, or carrying around their kid in a sack on their chest like an albatross around their necks. That forlorn look of despair in their eyes with a silent cry for help as they desperately seek an escape from the eternal situation they got themselves into. As I view these people I can only wonder if they rue the day they discarded their freedom in a moment of breeding frenzy. All it takes is a minute of ejactulatory bliss in exchange for twenty years of a parental jail sentence. Awww heck no. Sorry, it’s just not for me. Continue reading Hey NYC parents – your spawn are not my problem!