That always makes me think of ads I used to hear on the radio for monster truck rallies. “sunday, SUNDAY, SUNDAY, two thousand tons of pure testosterone, at the monster truck rally at Nassau Colliseum!”
Sundays, especially sunny ones, present me with the age-old dilemma — lounge around all day, or take advantage of the sunshine. Thankfully, last night I took it easy — went and saw Ghostbusters in Central Park (which was tons of fun, by the way) –so I was able to do both.
I love getting the Sunday NYT delivered. Read all kinds of great stuff as I stretched out on the couch. Finally, around 1pm, I went for a bike ride up the West Side bike path — up to 125th street and back. Damn — it’s pathetic how little I’ve been biking this year. That’s what you get when you dated a bartender all summer.
And speaking of dating, I went on a date after my bike ride — the guy from Nerve who did Midnight Madness. Nice enough, but zero interest. I think I’m done with the blind/internet dating thing — I keep ending up meeting people and having no spark whatsoever. Time to let nature take its course. Of course nature keeps fucking me over and making me interested in unavailable men . . . apparently Mother Nature has been smoking too much crack in her spare time.
Damn.