Just Add a hip vegetarian Restaurant and you have Long Island City, Queens

Wiping my Organic Canvas Clean

Seeing the Forest From the Trees While Realizing the Toilet Paper Company Can Only Have a Certain Number of Investors 

(0r: Butterflies are Free and Laxatives Never Go On Sale)

by Edward O’Neill

 

Shown here, of course, is a FEMALE Vegan,  male Vegans as we all know look like Paul Anka’s gayer younger brother or David Sedaris with more energy.

I have dated a few Vegan/ Vegetarian women and observed countless others from safe  social distances and all I will say is this so as to avoid futher coming across  as a total negative, critical bastard of a man: 

Gather  around me ladies,  lets  squat on this lawn and  talk, you are all beyond good at squatting since  your food pyrmamid, like your bodies, is bottom heavy in Grains. Just a  few  quick points.

- You can subscribe to and apply your Vegan all you want but the grain based diet you injest gives you the social skills of a diarhettic monkey and alters your nervous system to a point where you just  dont fit in, in NYC anyway,  youd do  fine on lets  say a working (or non working, it doesn matter really) farm of some kind or an Amish toll house of some sort.

- A vegan diet lacking physical activity other than walking to the subway is about as beneficial to you as drinking a glass of acid and pretending its lemonade, you are WOOD chipping your rectums, get your asses walking with frequent stops to crap, either in your  apartment or house or a public toilet or vegan restaraunt, all of which have  casual plumbing contained in structures that are about as eco friendly and sanitary as an unsealed Chewy Asbestos Bar dropped in a puddle at a slaughter house.

- Finally,  no diet will be completely beneficial to you if you continue to smoke and drink too much and walk around well into your mid to late twenties effected by the lesbian experiences you had at college,  take that from me, I am thirty nine and just  now got completely over my lesbian college experiences, those indian and asian pharmacy students really  fucked me up. 

 Oh, one more thing,  just to end on a positive note, years ago two friends of mine opened a health food store,  and it barely broke even, but they ( married, now divorced, still friends)  knew the potential for it to thrive was there, so they looked more at the distribution and importing side of the products on their shelves , the majority of which had a longer shelf life than the shelf itslelf, so they got into that and now make  SOooooo  much  money off of ordering and distributing products that  are BEYOND marked up, its thievery really, more than your average wholesale to retail difference, and the  growing market for it keeps it beyond afloat with a nice new coat of paint on the same boat,  new packaging to a growing appetitive and ” educated”  market has served them quite well. A sound investment and just as easily tweaked for the  changed, informed masses as bottled water, or vitamins, grains, beans, herbs, organic anything and of course toilet paper.

old made new again

Luz says…

If Astoria teaches us one thing, it’s I am a douchebag

I have been accused, correctly, of being a little anti- Astoria (Queens) here. There’s a  few reasons why I am but there’s only one I will admit to and write about on a blog level.  

 Anywho,  several years ago , when I got laid  more often than chemicals on a golf course,  there was a blackout in Astoria. Take my hand let me bring you to ‘05  and thru the streets of a section of Queens  completely screwed by Con Edison with a blackout that lasted quite a few nasty weeks. Bags of rotting food from  useless  refrigerators romantically lit by  jesus and mary bodega candles line the night streets. The air is thick with full diapers, both on and off the asses of children who wait to use public parks toilets and spray showers and …gulp..public pool.  Teaming bands of lesbians, wanta be actors, the young deluded in general roam the streets  day and night. Wait, whats that?  A green jeep cherokee rolls down a  street, and a man resembling Charlton Heston from the Omega man is seen behind the wheel.  Its me.

 Basically back then I was involved  with two women and they overlapped, i mean the  relationships did, they physically  didnt overlap although i tried very hard to make that happen.  Both of these young ladies were aspiring actresseseses who each had an apartment affected by the power outage. Both shared their apartments with room mates that would annoy the dead with electricity, without it they were beyond intolerable. So they crashed with me,  at my place, which at the time was at the very bottom of Maspeth on the Brooklyn Queens Border. An Industrial area that no normal person would live, which is why i lived and flourished there. 

I wrote alot then,  a-fucking-lot. I write now but back then I was a demon of productivity. I was weary of my aged laptop and saved  everything on memory keys. One memory key in particular had a a massive chunk of a novel that I am still working on. Notes,  drafts, submissions, unedited chapters, character outlines etc.  I also had  a PC in the apartment,  that i never really used.  Both of the women i was with used both my laptop and the PC and found it handy to make use of their own memory cards for their sporadic office  jobs and resume/ cover letters. Long story short, an impossibility with me I know,  one of them took and lost  MY memory key. The big kahuna key. The pop tart filled with my life jam.  The One key to rule them all. I was able to retrieve quite a bit of what i backed up onto this lost key, but not all of its contents. As i was  quite a  dog then and juggling my sex life like a clown on a unicycle with a kick stand, it made it difficult to even search for this  memory key. I had to  conduct  separate investigations of sort and do it in a prick/stealthy way so as to not alert either to eachother. I never found the key. 

I am sorry if i single out Astoria with my warped negativity, i shall  try and spread out my madness more fairly,  very much like i  did NOT do in the summer of ‘05 and for which i am still pay for. Mentally man,  i pay  for it mentally!

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