Sunday, February 25, 2007

Subway Game Theory

Have you ever been in an empty subway car? In a city where there’s seven million people sharing an area that’s roughly 1.5 miles wide by 11 miles long, having a completely empty subway car all to your self is a refreshing experience. You start to think things like “wow, if I split this car in thirds, I could charge 2 grand a month in rent and make a fucking killing. I can see the ads on the back of AM New York now – Prime Manhattan location, accessible to all areas of the city. Pets and homeless welcome. I digress.

So there I was, on a Saturday evening all alone enjoying my empty C train when one other dude jumps on board, sits directly across from me…the doors shut and the train takes off. For a moment we glanced at each other before making the obligatory look away as if to say “oops, sorry, I didn’t mean to make eye contact with you.” Then it hit me, I’m trapped 50 feet underground in this subway car with a complete stranger that looks like he’s headed waaaaaaaaaay uptown and there’s essentially no way out. I look back at him again to size him up, just as he’s glancing at me as if he just had the same thought I did.

OK man, it might be ‘go time’, I think to myself. From what I can tell, I’m a little bit bigger than this guy and think that if push came to shove I could take him, but I’d be at a severe disadvantage if he were to make the first move. Should I make the first move and catch him off guard or should I take my changes that he won’t make a move on me? Shit. This is the classic Prisoner’s Dilemma situation…damn you John Nash!

Let me explain how my mind was working here.

My outcomes are on the top left of each box, the strangers outcome is on the bottom right. As you can see, if he moves first I get my ass kicked and he walks away at the next subway stop completely unscathed - no witnesses, no repercussions; if I move first, I kick his ass and get away safe and sound. On the other hand if we both move at the same time, we kick each other’s asses. However, each of our optimal outcomes is to not do anything…like Eazy-E said, “nobody moves, nobody gets hurt.”…and that’s exactly what I did...nothing. The trains stops at Spring, five other people get in the car and our dilemma is over. Safety in numbers. Good thing for him too because I would have beat his unsuspecting ass.



Monday, February 05, 2007

New Year's Resolution

I’m back. Yes, after an unprecedented (gasp) month hiatus, I’m back in the blog world. I wish I could say that I’ve spent the last four weeks “finding myself” on a booze and exotic drug binge through South East Asia, but I unfortunately I have not...I mean we all can’t live like my younger, smarter, tree-hugging-dope-smoking brother, right? I on the other hand have been working my ass off. Since the New Year, I have traveled to New Orleans, San Antonio and Miami on business (hey, it’s not all that bad, right?). In fact, in the over the past 20 work days, I’ve spent nearly 10 of them on the road…the rest I’ve been trying to catch up on all of those bull shit things that pile up while you’re not in the office, so that’s fun. No excuses, just facts, but I felt like I owed you an explanation…and now I digress.

Let’s see, what has happened in the past month of note. I guess I’ll start from the top. The New Years party was great. Nothing really to blog about, but I did finger a female friend of mine in front of another male friend…which nearly lead into a “finger cuffs” situation that would have been slightly awkward in the morning, but other than that, it was fairly uneventful. My trip to New Orleans was great. One of the nights on Bourbon Street was probably blog-worthy, but I wasn’t logging it in my Blackberry (which is absolutely critical when Hurricanes are involved), so I’ll probably miss some valuable pieces of information…and as you know, the devil is in the details. That said, I brought what ended up being a 23 year old virgin back to my hotel room and would have banged the crap out of her had it not been the tightest fucking hole I’ve ever experienced in my life. I’m not joking. She was wet as hell and when I stuck a finger in I felt like my circulation was going to get cut off…it seriously felt like someone had tied a rubber band around my finger eight times. I cursed the two second decision when I was packing for the trip 48 hours earlier not to bring the lube. Bad call, oh well. I jacked off on her tits and then passed out. That is essentially the gist of the first four weeks of my New Year.

I have a rule regarding the New Year: I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I think they are pointless and set people up for failure and disappointment for the upcoming year. I make lists instead. I have a working list of 100 things I want to do before I die. Highlights include climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, throwing out a first pitch at a Major League Baseball game, running a marathon, visiting all seven continents in the world, meeting a U.S. President (which I have done…he complimented me on my shoes) and having a threesome (what would a list be without some sexual goals as well? And no, I’ve never had a threesome, although I’ve come very close).

In addition to my running list of major accomplishments every New Year I write down some things I want to accomplish in the up-coming New Year. I always pepper in a few things from my “master list,” but I mostly include smaller things that I want to do over the next 12 months. You see, I subscribe to the Ferris Bueller school of thought that,”life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you just might miss it.” I think that in order to get the most out of our short time on this planet we should set some goals and see them through…hence my personal To-Do list. Here is a little peak at a few things from my list for 2007...and some of the things you have to look forward to reading about:

  • Backpacking Trip to Mount Hood in Oregon - don’t worry, I’m going in the summer
  • Blow Out Weekend for my 30th birthday - yeah, I turn 3-0 this year…don’t remind me
  • Trip to a wine region that I’ve never visited
  • Las Vegas for NBA All-Star Weekend - I think I’ll have a few things to write about after this trip
  • Dinner at Per Se – I’ve been wanting to do this for awhile…I’m finally going to drop the 4 bills on a nine course dinner this year. The only problem I’m going to have is finding someone else to go with.
  • NYC Old School Pub Crawl – a crawl to the oldest pubs in Manhattan
  • Drunk Guy’s annual trip to Fenway Park – I want to meet some of my faithful Boston readers at the Cask n Flagon for some pitchers before the game (of course Jersey and Boston Red will be present as well)
  • Two chicks at the same time – it will be mine, oh yes, it will be mine

Looking forward to spending another great year with you guys!



Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Shuckin' the Charmin

I masturbate a lot. No surprise there, it's just something that guys do, right? Evidently I masturbate more than most guys…at least this is what my current fuck buddy tells me. She’s not the jealous type (which is great because I’m not either), but she does point out that she could come over and do that for me whenever I’d like. It’s not really about that though. What a lot of girls don’t understand is that guys like spending quality time with their penises. We like throwing on some porn, lubing up and shuckin’the Charmin…you know, play a little solo with the skin flute, choking the one-eyed trouser snake or whatever the kids are calling it these days.

Problem is that I have a very high sex drive, so even when I’m getting it on a regular basis – and I am getting it on a regular basis – I still want more. In fact, it’s not rare for me to rub one out immediately after a girl leaves my apartment in the morning…and after we’ve already had a few morning rounds. It’s not that she wasn’t good or didn’t satisfy me, it’s more that I have fresh mental masturbation material and want to use it.

Here’s a recent conversation between my fuck buddy and I about the topic of masturbation.

karen: i'm a little hot all the time though
Nycdrunkguy1: yeah me too
i rarely pass a woman that i don't wonder what it would be like to fuck her
karen: i don’t necessarily do that
karen: so much as just want a firm cock in my pussy most days
Nycdrunkguy1: of course you do...that's hot
i rarely imagine men naked
i just get wet and tight
karen: and ready
Nycdrunkguy1: when does that happen though?
karen: all the time
karen: sometimes at work
karen: riding the train
karen: at the gym all the time
Nycdrunkguy1: what triggers it?
karen: i have no idea
karen: nothing really
karen: sometimes i have a little nerve spasm down there
karen: fucking awful
karen: i want to just tear off my pants and ride someone
Nycdrunkguy1: holy shit
Nycdrunkguy1: i just see a hot chick and want to fuck her
karen: oh no
karen: mine is worse
karen: haha
Karen: being a girl though, you dont get off as easily
Nycdrunkguy1: i can see how that would be the case
Nycdrunkguy1: i'll just go into a bathroom and jerk it or something
karen: really?
karen: i cant do that very easily
Nycdrunkguy1: yeah, i've jerked it in just about every place imaginable
karen: haha
karen: wow
Nycdrunkguy1: flying always gets me horny
Nycdrunkguy1: i jerk it in the bathroom of airplanes all the time
karen: wow
karen: i'd like to do it in the bathroom of an airplane
karen: so small though
Nycdrunkguy1: yeah it is
Nycdrunkguy1: can't really explain why i get so horny in a plane
karen: tight spaces, flight attendants
Nycdrunkguy1: yeah i think that's exactly it
Nycdrunkguy1: and the fact that you're 30,000 feet in the air
Nycdrunkguy1: i've fucked in a train bathroom before
Nycdrunkguy1: from Paris to Madrid
Nycdrunkguy1: i've jerked it in a library too
karen: oh my god
karen: ridiculous
Nycdrunkguy1: while driving in my car even
karen: i've given head in the car
Nycdrunkguy1: well yeah, i've got that too
karen: now i want to fuck
karen: ahhh
Nycdrunkguy1: damn, i'm sorry you’re so far away
karen: haha it's ok
karen: that's what vibrators are for
Nycdrunkguy1: trying to think where else i've jerked it
karen: it's so easy for you
Nycdrunkguy1: i've jerked it in a bathroom of the Trump building before
karen: you are insane
Nycdrunkguy1: you know, maybe i should make that a new thing
karen: where can you jerk it?
Nycdrunkguy1: yeah
Nycdrunkguy1: i saw an AM New York article a few months back about a group of people that had a drink in all five boroughs in one day, using the subway system to go from borough to borough
karen: you'd have a jerk in all five?
Nycdrunkguy1: I’m thinking i should pick a place in each of the boroughs and jerk it in one day
karen: why not fuck in all five
Nycdrunkguy1: that could work too, but there would be an innate sense of pride and personally accomplishment knowing that I had successfully completed the five-borough jerk in one day
karen: haha
karen: you are too much
Nycdrunkguy1: that would be great, so say i jerked it in all 5 boroughs in one day
Nycdrunkguy1: how many people could say that?
karen: haha
karen: not many
i'll be so proud of you
Nycdrunkguy1: the five borough jerk....i'm totally going to plan this out now
karen: it's late
karen: i should go to bed
karen: good luck planning your five borough jerk
Nycdrunkguy1: thanks
karen: night
Nycdrunkguy1: night

I am planning the Great NYC 5 Borough Jerk-a-thon and yes, I will be writing about it afterwards. In case you were wondering if I have the stamina to endure such a challenge, my one-day jerk record currently stands at 11. That’s right, eleven times in one calendar day…now bring on the boroughs!



Overheard in New York

I read Overheard in New York from time to time because I enjoy how it emphasizes the stupidity of others…especially tourists. This past weekend I actually had two “Overheard in New York-worthy” exchanges that I had to write about.

Finishing up my Christmas shopping on Saturday afternoon I was walking up 6th Ave when I had this exchange with a female tourist standing on the corner of 49th and 6th:

Tourist: Excuse me, do you know if the streets get bigger going this way (pointing north)?

NYCDG (quickly walking by): No, they are all about the same size.

With all my Christmas shopping done, I had to go out and celebrate over a few cocktails on Saturday night. At the end of the evening I decided to take the subway home as it was still fairly early and I was feeling adventurous. As I step into an almost empty subway car and take a seat across from a homeless guy that looks like he’s about to settle in for the night, the following exchange occurs.

Homeless guy: Can you spare some money so I can get something to eat?

NYCDG: Sorry man, I don’t have any cash on me.

Homeless guy: Come on, please. I’m so hungry I’d suck your dick for a cheeseburger.

NYCDG: A Wendy’s cheeseburger or a White Castle cheeseburger?

Homeless guy: Man, fuck you.



Wednesday, December 20, 2006

New Year's Eve with the Drunk Guy

Are you sick of paying hundreds of dollars on New Years to get into an overly-crowded bar that serves bullshit watered down drinks, only to receive a wine spritzer toast at midnight followed by a swift “fuck off” as they kick you out the door? Yeah, me too.

I say fuck them. A friend of mine and I are throwing a party this year at his four story townhouse just outside of Hoboken (public transportation provided by New Jersey transit). He’s got a sick view of Midtown Manhattan, lots of booze and of course, your chance to party with me and my friends.

Space is limited and the party is invitation only, so if you’re interested in joining us, send your name and e-mail address to me at and I'll add you to the party Evite list when we send it out.



Sunday, December 10, 2006

Craig's List Loser

"He who fucks nuns will later join the church."
-The Clash

As many of you know, from time to time I post my blog on Craig’s List to increase awareness and my readership. This almost always leads to some interesting responses. I get flagged and removed by douche bags in Boston and Philadelphia that hate me because I’m from New York. I get SPAM messages from bots that pan themselves off as hot, desperate chicks that are trying to get me to check out their “personal profiles,” which no doubt lead to pay by the minute web cam porn sites (although I’ve never checked them out…really, I haven’t). I get the occasional e-mail from gay dudes asking for pictures of my dick or offering to perform various acts of sexual deviance on me – the things I endure for my readers. I also get great e-mails from female readers in all over the country (sometimes they are even naked pictures, which I not only accept, but encourage – hint, hint), but Midwest women in particular love me. I’ve even inspired a woman in Chicago to start her own blog, Sex in the (Windy) City. Point being, random shit happens on Craig’s List.

I recently received an e-mail from a douche bag in Jersey who obviously didn’t take two seconds to read my pictureless post and discover that (a) I’m male (b) I’m promoting my blog (c) I’m not afraid to write about the stupidity of my own gender. That said, here is the e-mail I received the day after I recently posted on Craig’s List (names and personal information has been changed, but the rest is verbatim):

Would love to get together, if you are interested please call me direct it's
my cell phone 973.555.5555 I just bought a condo in Hoboken. Presently live
in little falls, but will be moving. Call if you would like to get together
or talk. This adds is for real. And I have no time for games or the bullshit
most women put men through, or what men put women through. I work in
Manhattan. If you would like to meet or talk and see if there is any
connection call. Life is short and you are missing out on a lot of fun.
Don't be shy give me a call. My cell is always on and I always answer.
Billy or message me on AOL billy32350
Or on yahoo billy32350 also you can see pictures of me, my toys and what
I like to do on MySpace

Cell (973)555.5555

Seriously, it’s no wonder women in this city are fed up with members of my gender. A closer look at his MySpace page showed that this guy is 40 years old, slightly overweight, looks a little like Corky from Life Goes On, and has random pictures of a Lexus that he supposedly owns. I just couldn’t help it, I had to respond to his e-mail. Here’s what I wrote:

Wow, I thought I had seen all of the douche bags in New York, but yet again was proved wrong. If you read my post at all - obviously you didn't - you would have seen that I'm a male posting about a girl I used to date whom I ran into on the subway.

More importantly, I was trying to promote my blog, you bumbling idiot. Thanks for the e-mail though, you have given me something to post on my blog. Maybe you should actually read these ads before you respond.

It’s no wonder you are looking for women on Craig’s List, after reading your e-mail you obviously don't understand what woman want and respond to. Here is some free advice:

1. It's pretty obvious that you're just looking for sex. That's fine, all guys want to get laid and girls know this already. The thing about it is, if you're upfront about it before they even have a chance to get to know you a little, it's only going to drive them away. It's OK to take them there, they want sex too, they just don't want to feel like a cheap whore for fucking you, so don't make them feel like one.

2. You're showing off your supposed money by talking about your house in Hoboken (which you have yet to move into) and showing off your supposed Lexus on your MySpace page. This translates to one of three things to women: (a) he's got a small dick, (b) he's insecure (probably because he's fat, ugly or has a small dick) or (c) all of the above.

3."My cell is always on and I always answer" – a female translates this as: "I'm a desperate 40 year old man that's fat, ugly and has a small dick. I'll basically fuck anything that moves. Please call me, I haven't gotten laid in two years."

Good luck out there you moron.

Funny thing is, he never replied back. Oh well, I guess I’m not his type after all.



Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Positively 4th Street

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”
–Humphrey Bogart

My commute to work last Friday morning was…shall we say awkward. I was on my way uptown, checking my Blackberry, minding my own business when Erin Gobraugh walks in and sits down right next to me at the West 4th Street stop. My first thought was, “Positively 4th Street…it was only a matter of time, damn you Bob Dylan.”

You remember Erin, the girl from the Wedding Crashers blog. Let’s just say that things between her and I didn’t exactly end smoothly. She kept pushing for things between us to get more serious; while I communicated to her several times that I didn’t want a relationship. I had to cut the head off of the relationship, so I did what any psycho-fearing guy would do…stop calling. OK fine, I didn’t deal with it in the best manner, I’ll admit that. Shit happens.

After one week of radio silence, the nasty e-mails start coming in. One that I’m an asshole. Delete. One about my character. Delete. One about my disgusting blog. Delete.

You got a lotta nerve
To say you are my friend
When I was down
You just stood there grinning

You got a lotta nerve
To say you got a helping hand to lend
You just want to be on
The side that's winning

Fast forward five weeks as Erin purposely sits down right next to me on a half empty E train.

Erin (evil smile): Hi

Me: Hello

Fuck me, this isn’t going to be good.

Erin: How are you?

Me: Great, how are you?

Erin: Good. So what have you been up to?

Me: Working a lot and traveling. You?

You say I let you down
You know it's not like that
If you're so hurt
Why then don't you show it

You say you lost your faith
But that's not where it's at
You had no faith to lose
And you know it

Erin: I hate you.

This is going to be a long commute.

Me: OK.

Erin: I think you’re disgusting.

Me: How so?

She’s read about the five girls.

Erin: You’re sleeping with five girls at the same time.

Yep, definitely not going to be good.

Me: I never said I was sleeping with them. I said I was dating them.

Erin: Well by sheer numbers you’ve got to be sleeping with at least 3 or 4 of them.

Me: I’m not, actually.

Erin: Whatever. The girls at Conde` Nast think you’re disgusting.

Me: Awesome.

I know the reason
That you talk behind my back
I used to be among the crowd
You're in with

Do you take me for such a fool
To think I'd make contact
With the one who tries to hide
What he don't know to begin with

[Sidebar: Dear girls at Conde` Nast,

I understand how you might have derived a negative image of me from our friend Erin, but I’m really not a bad guy…quite the opposite, actually. I mean Erin had to like me for some reason, right? At the end of the day, Erin and I just weren’t right for each other. Remember, there’s two sides to every story, if you want to hear my side e-mail me and let’s get together for a drink someday after work…I’ll even buy.]

Erin: I hate you. You’re probably going to blog about this.

Me (smiling): Keep talking.

(Erin looks down and opens her AM New York.)

Touche. Maybe she’ll shut up now.

(Two minutes later)

Erin: You know my mom read your blog, so that was fun. Oh and my sister-in-law, well she doesn’t even talk to me anymore, so it’s nearly impossible for me to see my nephew.

[Sidebar: Dear Sister-in-Law Jennifer,

Please talk to Erin and let her see her nephew. Yes, she called you Chewbacca and yes she’s very open about the fact that she doesn’t seem to like you for whatever reason, but the least you can do is let her see her nephew. Personally, I think the kid is a little top-heavy and drools like an idiot savant at McDonalds, but she misses him and wants to see him again soon. Thanks and best of luck with those two spinning heads. Kind regards.]

Me: Why did you tell them about my blog, you knew I was writing about the wedding?

Erin: I was trying to bond with her.

Me: That worked out well.

Erin: I hate you.

You see me on the street
You always act surprised
You say, "How are you?" "Good luck"
But you don't mean it

When you know as well as me
You'd rather see me paralyzed
Why don't you just come out once
And scream it

(Erin goes back to flipping through her AM New York)

If that guy sitting next to her writes a blog, he’s going to have plenty of things to write about tonight. I wonder if she’s done yet. Her stop is coming up; I wonder if she’s going to make a big scene on the train before she gets off at her stop.

(The train stops and she gets up to leave)

Me: Have a nice day.

Erin: I hate you.

I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
And just for that one moment
I could be you

Yes, I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
You'd know what a drag it is
To see you

I suppose that could have gone worse.



Monday, November 27, 2006

High Fidelity

“I seem to recognize your face, haunting familiar yet, I can’t seem to place it. Cannot find the candle of thought to light your name. Lifetimes are catching up with me…Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away.” -Pearl Jam

I’m somewhat of a closet John Cusack fan. Actually, I can’t think of one of his movies that I haven’t seen. So excuse me when I say that I’ve felt that the last week of my life has been quite similar to Cusack’s movie High Fidelity. Indulge me for a moment.

I went home for the entire week of Thanksgiving and even if I told you where “home” is, you wouldn’t know it, although I’m sure you understand where I’m coming from. Like many people I’ve met in New York, I was raised in small town America – for the purposes of this blog, I’ll call it Smallville. Let me describe Smallville for you. There are only two high schools in the entire town and growing up the idea of a “rager” was driving out in the country, setting up shop by the city dump and drinking beer. The cow population in my home county outnumbers the human population by about a 2 to 1 margin and the local idea of “pimping your ride” consist of raising or lowering one’s pickup truck and adding a gun rack. I’m not kidding, this is the environment in which I was raised.

Every so often I’ll get an e-mail from an ex-girlfriend, just to check in and see how I’m doing. In fact, over the past month I received an e-mail from two exes that still live in my hometown. One was an ex from high school (the captain of the cheerleading team for my rival high school)-Danielle- and the other was a more recent ex from a few years ago when we tried to pull off a long distance relationship-Heather (now my idea of a long distance relationship is dating a girl that lives in Queens). Since I was going to be home for an entire week, I suggested we get together for some coffee when I was in town (Smallville just got their first Starbucks a few years ago).

Unfortunately, I was only able to catch up with Heather, as Danielle was too busy drinking beer in the country. I wish I was joking. Nevertheless, Heather and I met up on Tuesday evening at the local Starbucks for a chat over a latte. We hadn’t been together five minutes when I realized that I felt like I was John Cusack’s character in High Fidelity. Remember how he gets together with exes after a few years only to discover they are in the same place they were before and realize how he has moved on and grown into a better person for it? That’s exactly how I felt. Here is this person in front of me that I used to have pretty significant feelings for telling me how “boring” her life is in Smallville. She goes to work, hangs out with her roommate, watches her TV shows and that’s about it. She says she has dated occasionally, but that it’s very hard to meet new people in a small town. You see, making it to 30 without being married in my hometown is like a death sentence. Most of the people that I went to high school with that still live in Smallville are married and have several kids. In fact, I ran into a girl that I went to high school with at a local Mexican restaurant…she was there with her husband and their three children. I did my best to avoid eye contact, which, if I hadn’t would have lead to a very awkward conversation. I deliberately try to avoid people when I go home because I don’t understand the world they are living in and they certainly have no idea about mine. Many of them haven’t received a college degree, much less visited New York City. What do we really have in common? I’m not passing judgment one way or the other, but I just can’t imagine living in the same town, hanging out with the same people, doing the same things year after year after year. Life is too short and there are too many things to see in the world to fall into a rut at such an early age.

So Heather and I talked for about an hour and a half. She told me about how her family was doing, how her roommate still hasn’t figured out that the toilet paper should be placed on the roller so that the paper comes out over the top of the roll and how she can’t stand when the paper towels aren’t ripped perfectly down the perforation. I told her about my new job and recent promotion, the places that I’ve traveled in the past year and about my favorite restaurants in New York City. Yes, it was quite apparent how things have changed, how I’ve moved on and much like Cusack’s character in High Fidelity, I reaffirmed that the world I have built for myself is the world that I want to live in…that and the fact that Heather has since added 20lbs to her former size zero frame. I guess some things do change in a small town.