I Wrote Holden Caulfield and so Did You

I don't even know where to start off cause I have so many thoughts raging in my head right now. All these things, jumbled up in my brain right now, thrashing left and right. It's like the fucking pits that would go down at a hardcore show during a breakdown back when CBGB was around. I'm just sitting here trying to keep from getting a roundhouse kick to the head right now.

Anyway... um yea.

Last night was so-so. It was kinda like jerking off and then not busting your nut off at the end. Met up Romil at Union Bar, AGAIN. Much like the night before, I miraculously got a parking spot a stones throw from the bar (getting good parking this past month is about the ONLY good thing to happen in my life and realizing this is probably gonna lead to me being severely depressed in a few minutes). But what the fuck was I saying? Oh yea, we met up and had a few drinks before it was time to get to the theater to see Mystery Team. I had maybe 2 or 3 gin and tonics and a shot of cafe patron or patron cafe... or whatever the fuck that coffee flavored tequila is fucking called. The bartender eerily looked like the splitting image of this girl I know/knew from Jersey. Unfortunately, she did not cut us a break like the girl who usually takes care of us when we go there (really, I cannot emphisize enough how hot that girl is and how she is a fucking saint for giving us deals on drinks and puts up with our jackassery).

Onward, we left for the theater. It was just about full when we got there but we managed to get good seats, if you consider the fact people who are well off have nicer home theaters in their basements than this dump, and you aren't ontop of each other in seats that barely fit your ass in. Seriously, it was like a theater for midgets. Rather large midgets, but midgets none the less. If not midgets, fat kids. But I am digressing like a mother fucker right now. I really wish people weren't idiots. what is it with some people that they have this need, want or desire to be complete morons when in the room with someone even remotely famous? Do you really have to laugh extra hard to obnoxious proportions at things that aren't even funny, just because the person may be a funny fellow? Seriously, Don Glover could have told the crowd the ingredients in a dishwashing detergent and these people would fucking LOSE it. I had the displeasure of sitting next to 3 asian kids like this. I couldn't hear half the fucking lines thanks to their dumb, stupid, forced laughter. Fucking just sit there and enjoy the fucking movie for what it is Goddammit. People like that are one of the many reasons I hate so much. I seriously sat there just staring at these kids several points during the movie, but Romil kept telling me to calm down and just ignore them. Kinda hard to ignore the elephant in the room when it's blasting his trunk in your face. There was a Q&A after the movie. Some of the questions were mentally crippling. Like seriously, I cant enjoy living with idiots like this in the world. Darwin was a fucking liar. It's not the fit that are surviving. IT's the spoiled ass-hat wearing children of mongolids that are thriving, and they need to be stopped... and on that note, i am going to stop talking about everything but the movie before this starts sounding like the makings of a manifesto in the vein of Ted Kaczynski.

but yea, how bout them yankees?

After the movie we met up Ronak, his girlfriend and their friends for Roank's girlfriend's birthday party. We didn't really have any intent to stay there for all too long. It was kinda crowded. Romil checked his coat and I refused to because that A) insiuated we were staying longer than I desired to and; B) I am not paying some asshole to put my coat on a hanger. Get a real job you fuck'tards (this coming from a guy whose job is a fucking joke). But yea, we couldn't find him, then realized tehre was an upstairs. Lemme tell you something about upstairs. IT SUCKED. It was WAAAAAY over crowded and stunk like a guido at the gym. The description I texted to Scott about this place was that I felt like I was in a sardine can that was fermented by jocar noir (or however that fucking cologne is spelt) and sweat. It was like a fucking animal den in there. This one guy was doing one of those really retarded things that somehow is called "dancing" where he was basically just inappropriately acting out sex on some girl that was sitting on a couch. It was kinda like that video of those kids showing off their ability to sex it up... but on an ottoman. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you are fucking seriosuly missing out on hilarity. As if THAT wasn't enough, there was some guy that looked like Seal, minus the facial scars, in a corduroy jacket just snapping photo after photo of drunks girls butts as they danced. Around the same time I noticed this going on, some other mongoloid tried talking to me about God knows what and I just looked at him blankly and walked away. I think he over heard me making fun of someone. I told some really mess of a drunk girl "no hablo ingles" when she came up to me. She was like "whaat?" I said "i don't speak english" and she goes "oh, ok" and walked away. I was in no mood to be in there and it showed. OH, what else happened? Something weird. Here's my texts to Scott regarding the place:

"This PLACE is dirt!"

"This bar i'm at that ronak told us to go to. nothing but judging indians and some fat cambodian dude with a fauxhawk rubbing his sweaty belly like he's the all knowing peaceful buddah"

I think Romil tried introducing me to some people and i was just an utter asshole off the bat. Some guy came up to me and I just went "woah, woah woah... you're not indian," before he could get a word in. After a few shots and rounds we left. Shit was EXPENSIVE. I don't know what you were paying all that money for. Definitely not the atmosphere. Definitely not the watered down shit they told me was booze. Definitely not the "awesome" dj work of that asshole sitting there with an ipod. Bang up job he fucking did. I should start calling myself DJ Ramy. I mean, I know how to use the shuffle option on my itunes. That's all these lowlifes do... AND THEY GET PAID TO DO IT!

Loki met us up around the time I walked out and refused to come back in. I was sitting outside chain smoking (yea, good idea when you're sick, right?) and ended up talking to some asian chick who was with the party. My subtle hints to come to the next bar with us (which was basially "yea, we're going around the corner to this other bar. You should come with us) didn't seem to work. But whatever. We showed up to this bar Jeff was working at. It was kinda dead... and I just remembered I should check the pockets of my jeans I was wearng last night when I get home from work. I forgot I kept stuffing the free peanuts they had out into my pockets and was walking around, eating them out of my pocket so I didn't have to just sit there in front of a bucket on the bar. I also made QUITE the mess with the shells. Well, it was kinda messy to begin with, i just contributed more to it. Also, that place gives out free hot dogs that you serve yourself. Seriously. It was a miniturized version of one of those street vendor carts, just sitting in the corner of the bar. It had all these condiments... which also reminds me, I have to clean my hoodie cause I sprayed ketchup all over myself. I am such a mess. It surprises me how long I've lived on this world. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't even know how to tie my own shoes if it was socially acceptable to wear velcro shoes past the age of 4.

Oh, and these fucking gavones asked me if I could score them some coke. Do I fucking look like a goddamn pusher? Seriously. Go jerk off with a cheese grater.

Smoking outside was usual Ramy wackiness. The bouncer was gone at one point and I took it upon myself to start carding people (long story, but me and TJ did it a few times outside a bar that didn't have a bouncer and people would buy us drinks to thank us for letting them in). Anyway, this guy wasn't mad at me... but he wasn't happy. In fact, he saw me and thought it was hilarious I was giving these people shit for their IDs. Only thing he was really upset about was he said there's a camera outside and he could get fired for me doing that shit. (how that works, I don't know). I did another thing that further proves I have the most retarded sense of trying to pick up girls. What was it? Hitting on a hot blond outside the bar while her boyfriend just sat there like the jamoke he came off as. God, what is wrong with me?

We all eventually left when we realized nothing was happening and it was gonna stay that way. Romil and I took a cab back to my car, I drove him to his car, and then I drove home somehow. I passed the fuck out within minutes of getting home.

I woke up today, spitting up blood filled loogies and snot rocketing out blood filled boogers. Life is pretty peachy.

I'll end this with two quotes I got from Scott last night that I found humerous:

- Tony and Marc were laughing at how drunk and angry I was last night while playing cod. They were asking what was going on and why I kept yelling "Ramy shut up and why do you have my wig on?"

- Haha watching 89 batman and the money parade scene is on and hes dancing to prince on the float and sarah goes "thats so ramy"

Regarding Last Night

First of all, I tell myself to stay away from dayquil/nyquil, especially when drinking. What happened? After originally planning on catching the 4pm showing of Mystery Team in the city, I ended up laying in bed miserable cause of my sinuses til about 6pm or so. I then showered, hopped down to the city and met Dan and Romil up in Union Square to hang out at our usual spot for some happy hour drinks and to shoot the shit as to kill time til another showing of the movie started. That, and the really hot bartender is always nice to us and just gives us shit for free all the time... and she's hot. I was feeling like shit, so Romil offered me what he calls "Scottish Robitussin". It was whiskey. A glass of that turned into these o-bomb shots. Well, it wasn't really an o-bomb but similar. The bartender made us 2 shots each. One was stoli-o and the other shot was orange flavored monster energy drink. We were told to take the stoli-o and chase it with the shot of monster. It got the job done and that is probably why I was so out of control when I got to Scott's later in the night. That and the whole drinking heavily while on dayquil I assume. The gin and tonics didn't help the situation either. Oh yea, and before Dan left, he told me a funny story. An ex girlfriend of his who is very self concious about photos that go up on the internet or something like that, etc took a picture of herself with Dan. I, apparently, photobombed it so bad that I am making this, as dan put it, dedicated facial expression that puts the "Have you seen my baseball" retarded brother from Something About Mary to shame. Instead of there being all these comments on how nice the picture is, people keep posting shit about me and my mongoloid face I'm making. Apparently she repeatedly brings up how "one of Dan's asshole friends" ruined her good photo. HAAAA! This basically is why I am the self proclaimed king of photobombing. I need to remind him to send me a copy of this photo. It may be up there with the photo I bombed at Viv's birthday party a few years back. The photo is of her and all her friends smiling and posing together right before they did some birthday shot, you know, one of those "this is a nice photo of friends" deals. You just see me off to the left of the photo making this retard face so bad that is causing me to shake from laughing so hard just thinking about it right now. The kicker was I was shown someone commented on it something like "does anyone see this man in the photo making that face?" I'm laughing so fucking hard right now that people at my job are looking at me weird. They have no idea cause they think I'm doing work but I'm sitting here typing away and laughing at how stupid I am.

ANYWAY, back to the story. we basically got lit up at our usual spot and then Ronak met us up for some drinks when he heard we were out(obviously, our plans of seing mystery team kept getting derailed at this point). Around 11:45 we decided to try and catch the midnight showing of the damn movie. What happened was this. We didn't even know where the damn theater was in the first place other than "a few blocks away", so just imagine me and 2 Indian brothers like drunken buffoons running around the southern part of the Flat Iron district/Norther part of the East Village, asking random people on the street if they know where the theater is. Most people gave me that "get away from me you psycho" attitude (I wonder why?) We got there and I was standing on line for tickets. This couple in front of me kept claiming they were on the guest list and kept giving names that were either taken up or not on the list. This went on for a while til they decided to buy up some tickets. I went to get tickets and the guy gives me one ticket. I said "um... my friends need tickets too." The guy told me he just gave me the last ticket. I basically had to trade it up for 2 tickets to a showing tonight cause of this.

We went back to this other bar Romil likes that Ronak claimed some girls were gonna meet us up at. Apparently the main one Ronak was meeting up is a bitch and it was pretty apparent that I was to be a complete asshole to her and just lay it into her thick. We walked in, then walked out and I ended up going home... which turned into me calling Scott and yelling jibberish into the voicemail, then barging into his house cause I saw Jose's car parked outside. Apparntly I annoyed Scott to the point he had to stop playing the game he was playing. I don't remember much of the night other than me marching around his house wearing a wig, a leather cowboy hat and his eric estrada aviator glasses (you know, those glasses in the Burger King commercial that say "ESTRADA" across the lenses? yea, he has those). i left around 3 in the morning to eat cause I was starving and didn't know how much I could last drinking whiskey and eating cheese its. Also, I may have called some girl in DC pretending to be some heart broken ex boyfriend that was crying (or as Scott puts it that I sounded like an old worried yenta). Also, may have called some other people talking about nonsense. But, it wasn't me... or Scott. It was someone else, I swear.

The Ramy is a Mess Cooking Show: Vol. 1

(Ok, so I've been wanting to do this for a while now. The farthest I've gotten to writing up cooking recipes of mine is texting Scott some of the shit I've thrown into a pot, what I itend for it to be, and then send him a picture of what the result looks like.)

The Ramy Chili Surprise



So yea, the above picture gross and when you read what I put it in you'll probably gag a little, or, like when I texted Scott what I used as one of the ingredients cause I was too lazy to look for the real one, you'll probably respond with what he texted me back, which was: "Ugh remind me never to get stranded with you."

But yea, since I am on dayquil and am getting pretty loopy right now, I decided to be adventurous and cook something different (basically because there is NO food in the house but small things here and there). Here's the ingredients.

- a small can of tomato paste
- a regular sized can of kidney beans, I drained the juice out of the can before putting the beans in the pot.
- what I am learning was probably a little too much oregano
- basil
- parsley
- garlic powder
- red pepper shake
- one diced red bell pepper
- one diced green bell pepper
- about a third or fourth of an onion that was left over
- 2 cloves of garlic
(ok, so both bell peppers weren't diced as much as they were just lazily cut up)
- Ketchup (yea, I was too lazy to find tomato sauce and just dumped some ketchup in there)
- a few splashes of Jamaican Rum (because, I figured it would change up the flavor of it being ketchup and not tomatoes).
- Sriracha chili sauce (because I couldn't find chili powder in the house)
- half a bottle of chili and lime flavored frank's hot sauce (see above, as well as the fact that it is an amazing hot sauce)
- about 3 or 4 handfulls of Morningstar veggie chopped "meat" or whatever they call it.
- a shit ton of olive oil just in case all the above tasted like shit, it'd slide right back out my body or at least the oil would mask some flavors, I hoped.

I cooked it on a slow temperature and stirred occasionally, while doing the dishes and taking out the garbage.

The result was pretty damn good. I am pretty stuffed right now and there's plenty of this crap yet. Oh, and if you're wondering for measurements, good luck, unless I mentioned it above, I did it all by guessing what I thought would be a good amount. I was pretty spot on with everything except the oregano which I mentioned earlier.

I am thinking I'm gonna go back to being bugged out on dayquil and do important things. By important things, I mean probably sit here looking at porn or playing Modern Warfare 2 while blasting the Meatmen and screaming like a nutcase at total strangers playing against me on the internet til I decide to head into the City to catch one of the showings of Mystery Team. Should be a good time.