Evidently, Heather Graham was quoted in an interview recently as saying that she feels guilty because she now has the kind of body that gives unreasonable expectations to and lowers the self esteem of women around the world. Not being a women, I can't say if this is true or not. However, I do believe I am qualified to offer an expert opinion on the aesthetic properties of a womans body from the point of a man; my conclusion is (and recognize that this assessment is made in a vacuum, and does not take into account what I'm sure is an incredibly damaging effect Heathers groove thing has on the fairer sex) that she is crazy fly. In fact, I'm going to take that a step forward and say that she is mad crazy fly.

I mention it because I saw The Guru yesterday. Yet another movie where our heroine (I was going to call her Heroine of Heiny, but didn't know if that was inappropriate) plays a porn star (Huh, I guess it would have been appropriate!). A thoroughly mediocre movie; Ms. Graham had a few good lines, and the few Bollywood-style dance numbers were rocking. But the ending left me wanting, and it was all pretty predictable. What was I talking about? Oh yeah. Heather Graham is really cute, is all I'm trying to say. No Rollergirl-style nudie scene though.

A trip to the upper-east side to see a sub-par comedy wasn't the only thing going on yesterday, though. After returning to the outer borough with a friend of mine, I decided to head over to the Stop-N-Shop to pick up a few things (the most important of which were hummus and chips). On the way down the block, we hear a woman across the street yelling and screaming, and we see somebody take off down the block carrying something. Since I'm a complete idiot, I ask my friend "Is that woman kidding?" to which she answered "I don't think so." So I took off down the street after the guy. Thanks to the fact that I've been at the gym almost everyday for the past few weeks, I was able to catch up with him, whereupon I confronted him and made him drop the bag. Once that was done, I sent him on his way and returned the bag to the lady. Crazy, no?

After this little incident (over which I am filled with pride bordering on hubris), we went to the store and got my hummus. When I got back, Sam was at the apartment and he told me of an incident that he had just had with some crazy guy who knocked on the door and tried to simultaneously enter the apartment foyer and give him a small bag of meat, all the while repeating the words "Muslim" and "Bengali" over and over. Needless to say, I told him my little adventure, and we both agreed that this was the strangest day we've had in Astoria to date.

And I was concerned that my new apartment wasn't going to be as interesting as my old one. In any case, I have a request for my readers. I need a costume. Preferably with tights, since that seems to be de rigueur for superheros these days. Any suggestions?