I go to the Best Picture Showcase every year. All the oscar nominated films in one day with my nephew. It’s seriously more fun than a pig roast(my second favorite thing on earth). I’m not sure what it says about me that I had a fantastic time watching a dead pig with a gunshot wound in the face get roasted and carved in front of my disgusting dead pig eating-face but I did just the same.
I feel shame complaining how much my knees hurt after watching 10 hours of movies after just finishing watching ’12 Years A Slave’. Seriously, that guy was a fucking slave for 12 years(spoiler).
I stood in the movie theater bathroom feeling like the biggest pussy alive. And then took a cab home to complete the spoiled, middle-class, lazy and stupid stereotype.
It was so unbelievably good, I was ready to throw my masseuse out the window.
I don’t understand what this means.
Being from San Diego, it’s hard to bring yourself to admit that anything on the east coast is better (even though it is), but this has to be the best thai massage I’ve ever had outside of Thailand (we get it, you’re a world traveler – very impressed). Maybe it’s all of the walking you do in Manhattan that makes the massage feel so much better. Maybe it’s the fact that they don’t use any lotion, which is how it’s done in Thailand (most other Thai massage places use lotion because this is the American expectation). It’s actually not the American expectation. Stop speaking for all of America jackass.
Whatever it is, I didn’t really have time to reflect on the massage while I was being worked on because I was basically comatose (Basically? Stop teasing us). In my experience (which seems to be tremendous and who gives a shit), this is how you know a massage is really good–when it forces your mind to completely relax and relinquish any control and awareness of your surroundings. The building could have burned down and I would have woken up in an ambulance with third degree burns and not know it because I was out cold. Maybe next time. I’ll bring the matches.
I hate going to the same places (restaurants, bars, points of interest, etc.) (and we hate you being there) every time I come to Manhattan, but I’m going to have to add this to a growing list of must-go places that I will have to visit every time we come to the city.
See you on your next trip.
Leave the lotion at home.
I walked down 6th Avenue from the boutique toy store carrying a bag full of store profits on my way to purchase a $5 latte. A small latte.
I was embarrassed for both the West Village & myself. More for myself.
When passing the spot where ‘World of Video’ used to sit, I felt absolute anger & resentment for the paint and hardware store in its place. In lieu of somewhere to have a spirited conversation about classic films with a passionate and educated staff was now a place you could purchase a hammer.