Fat Black Pussycat

So I dragged my cousins to NY-City tonight. Fun times. I asked Frank to recommend a bar - so we head over to the East Village to "Fat Black Pussycat". I thought he was sending me to a leather bar. I was wrong. Out of all the bars we went to, this was pretty cool. I got lost going to the bathroom.

We had just enough time for three bars, one stop at a liquor store, one quick slice of pizza, and some drunken camera phone pics outside of Penn station.

There is a progression here, so I'll tell the story like a flip book.

I say, "Let's take drunk pictures! Yeah!" (metal hands)

So, Justin shows me what button to press on his "sidekick".

We like this one, so we think it should continue:


Chelsea and I are proud of our hats. Hey, the weather is colder than shit, we need hats.

Then we suddenly have a new friend whose name is 'JR'. Chelsea calls herself 'Shanikwa'. This makes me giggle.

Priceless. Penn Station, NY - I love you.

Then it's to the bathroom to pee - where we meet a lady with no teeth who hustles us for $2.00, a cigarette, and then some change before we escape. (Sidebar - the hustlers in SF could learn a thing or two from the ones in NY. It's colder, meaner, and bigger - they don't fuck around in NY, that shit is an art.)

On the NJ Transit on the return, more camera phone pics - we wanted to take advantage of the lighting and the 45 minute train-ride back to NJ.




Chelsea's shoes are the "converse" of mine and Justin's. Har-Har.

The night ends with us eating pizza and watching Poison Ivy 2 on HBO while the dog runs around getting into nasty dog trouble.

Fuckin' dog.

FIN