Archive for the ‘internet & web’Category
In a revival of the absurd endeavor of 2008, I ventured out to Queens to appear on the Keith and The Girl show, as a guest on their marathon, record-breaking, podcast. Last time, it was 74 hours. This time, 76. I spent a tidy 3 on mic, and a few more in the house just supporting folks and providing bagels.
The whole point was to promote their new book, What Do We Do Now?, which I have bought but not yet read. You should do the same.
The first order of business on Sunday was to tidy up the house and conceal the craziness of the previous night. I am still amazed how dirty a kitchen can become in just two days. Seriously. Amazed. I mean, how did that black liquid get all over the inside of the freezer?
And lord, so many cans.
Predictably, after two nights of partying (super partying), the gang was pretty knackered. We slept in, and shuffled over to the resort’s Club House for a fancy pants brunch worthy of the whitest of white people, who play golf. ie, not me.
But even in soberness our rabble can have a laugh. The sunglasses may soothe the harshness of a hangover, but can’t mask our affection.
Back on the road for a lovely drive back to Maplewood. My sympathies are for Amie, Allison, and other Canadians who are charged with a 21-hour schlep back to Halifax, Ottawa, and other faraway lands.
Adieu, dear friends, until we meet again.
Oh, and on the way back, I made a wrong turn and found myself in Fawn Lake Forest, the small town where Betty J. and her family have a summer home, where Mike and I visited way back in 1998. Coincidence indeed.
Day two began with that timeless vacation tradition of venturing into town in search of groceries. After fumbling around a bit trying to find our way, we discovered a local supermarket, and bagels were purchased. And of course since everyone is a goddam drunk, we had to find a liquor store. And since Pennsylvania was founded by a bunch of Quakers, we also had to find a beer distributor for folks to buy beer.
Back at the house, on our pleasant little faux-suburban street, we spend the late morning staring and chatting and trying to recover from the previous day. Jeremy and Barry prepared chili and jumbalayaa, respectively, and with our bellies full, we headed over to the main resort.
First stop, the rifle range. Most of us, being city folk, had never fired a gun of any kind. (also, we got lost along the way, another sure sign that urbanites are meant to navigate the dense forests of Pennsylvania) Predictably, handling a .22 calibre rifle isn’t hard — it’s basically only a step up from a paintball gun or bb gun. The gunner, being an active-duty Army sniper, found the whole affair terribly amusing. Keith, an Army veteran had no trouble, once we found a way to cover his left eye, which he can’t close, for some reason. F-Mos, the Harlem native, felt somewhat awkward holding a rifle (as opposed to a handgun), and Chemda got back in touch with her middle-eastern roots, once she started to see that old bolt-action thing as an AK-47.
After shooting, we spent some time driving go-carts. The course was short, and narrow, but we still had fun trying to pass one another and giving the occasional bump. But half the fun was talking shit, really.
As the sun set, it was time for the actual show. Episode 1000 was a bit of a retrospective, with faithful guests chiming in on their experiences, audience members recalling memorable moments, and the odd jokes at my expense (with Keith calling me out on the design of my business cards, among other things).
And to finish, back to the house for another Party Super Party. Suck-and-blow Jell-o shooters are an interesting party tool, I must say. Myq K. passed on early on the couch, and almost nodded off on that ridiculously comfortable arm chair (with Ottoman).
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Scott shooting a rifle, struggling with spent shell casings
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The video can’t show it, but I’m actually a good shot.
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Allison fumbling with same dodgy rifle
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filming while driving, probably not the best idea
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Impromptu ice cream sandwich-eating contest
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It’s not a party until someone appears with a live frog
Like on previous occasions, I have packed my bags and bid adieu to metro New York to follow my friends Keith and Chemda on the road. This time around, they were commemorating the 1000th episode of their show, Keith and The Girl.
For such an occasion, we assembled at the Woodloch resort outside of Hawley, PA to take in the scenic calm of the Poconos, to relax, sleep, catch up with old friends, and eat some good food.
Oh, that was just me. Everyone else was there to get shit-faced.
First, we met for a rather fancy dinner, followed by a game of Bingo. Then, after being grown-ups for too long, we headed back to the houses for a bit of what’s become known as “Party Super Party!” Aime even convinced me to do a shot of something called a Grasshopper. I think the last time I did a shot it was when Jay’s mum harangued me into trying a Mini Beer. As the video will attest, I don’t really drink.
Shenanigans, as expected.
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The Gunner taunting Aimee during Bingo
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Having way too much fun with a chocolate fondu fountain
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Scott taking a shot. Whoa, really? Yea.
Since the uniform for the Internet industry is little more than a t-shirt and flip-flops, the desire arose for a formal (or at least semi-formal) event where the geeks of Silicon Alley can schmooze it up in style. Some would say we have more fun when dressed up, or that being dressed up is part of the fun in itself; my cynicism says no — it’s just more drycleaning.
But we braved the rain and found ourselves on the roof of the Empire Hotel, which was appropriately enclosed making it more of a greenhouse than a rooftop deck.
Although I expected to see more of my local geek buddies, I certainly wasn’t alone. Leah, once-neighbor and current friend, was brave enough to tag along. Her effort was to introduce me to some girls and get me “out there” following what amounts to a lifetime of staying in. Unfortunately, and in spite of the shiny dresses, her efforts will continue well beyond this night.
Living in Jersey City makes it slightly more difficult to pop into the City for events. Case in point, my late arrival at the NYTM this week. I appeared just in time to see Jason Calacanis yap about Mahalo 2.0, but really, I missed the whole thing.
But I was able to salvage a bit of socialising out of the night. After the event, I met up with Julia and some other rascals, and we strolled it to Trailer Park, for a bit of all purpose hanging. I spent a moment getting to know Robert Murray, who I had previously met only at a Tech Karaoke, and Whitney Hess, a sassy Jewish gal born and raised in Manhattan. After discussing why work sucks, why relationships are hard, why New York is insane, and the variations in the quality of soda fountain Coke, I determined that it was time to call it a night. The long train ride back to JC.
Hail to my new friends. I’ll talk to you soon.