Another day, another litany of excuses for why I haven't been posting. What are you going to do? I consider myself the Bill Whittle of the vanity press blogging universe, though. I may be intermittant, but when I show up I'm weighty and worthwhile. Or something like that.

So what is it this time, kennyb? Well, I'll tell you - a bunch of stuff. I mentioned that Sam and I were parting ways, and moving out. Well, that was, like, SO seven days ago. Thanks to four or five days of fairly exhausting moving-type activities (loading the car, driving along the streets of NYC without being able to see out my rear window, unpacking, painting, etc), it's all done. Almost all done. For some reason, we have five air conditioners, all of which are in our living room. We're thinking of making them some kind of installation, or possibly a coffee table. My bedroom still has a couple of areas where you can still see the original paint color (which was a deep hunter green. In addition to the oppresively dark color in there, the room also had one wallpapered wall, which looked like you were inside a heavily wooded forest. It was pretty weird. And now that I think of it, the wall on the other side is just a huge mirror, so laying in bed the previous tenant was looking at himself laying in the middle of a forest. I wonder if he pretended that he was an elf. That's what I'was doing until I took it all down, and it was serious fun. Anyway, the insides of the closets, and some storage space are still that green color. I think I'm going to paint them bright red, which should make for an interesting contrast with the light blue I painted the rest of the room. Or horrendous. Interesting or horrendous.

I'm living in the Lower East Side now, about a block away from the corner of 1st and Houston. It's seriously amazing. Although, I'm definitely not attractive enough to be down here. It's a seriously pretty part of town. I'm also not active enough to deserve my location. This is where everything is going on. I'm blocks away from two of my favorite music venues (the Bowery Ballroom and the Mercury Lounge), around the corner from a place that does punk rock kareoke (Arlene's Grocery, Monday nights, if you're interested), and a block and a half away from the subway. Dozens of awesome bars within a 6 block radius, restaurants out the wazoo, and Fresh Direct delivers here without any complaints (although the local Key Food, while not as sublime an experience as and LIC Stop and Shop, definitely makes up for a lack of selection with a pulchritudinous clientele. Damn the girls down here are pretty!) Everything rocks.

Got a parking ticket the other day, which sucked. And it was a Manhattan ticket, which means it was expensive. A few hours ago, I was having trouble finding it, and got annoyed about that. What do you do if you lose a ticket? I had no idea. So then I was in this weird position where I was searching the apartment feverishly for something I didn't want to get in the first place. While the irony didn't escape me, it did go unappreciated.

What else? Oh yeah, had the following conversation with Ben just now. Went something like:
Ben: Kennyb, how's the blog?
Kennyb: Horrible. Haven't written a thing.
Ben: That is horrible! I want you to write about my nutsack on the counter!
Kennyb: Your what on the what?
Ben: Oh, nothing.

Something that has really taken on a life of it's own is the entertainment center. It's just about everything I hoped it would be by this point. My server attached to the projector and the stereo amp, VCR, DVD all linked through the projector and the amp. I got an Xbox the other day (to further my relationship with my brother - we intend to have a play date where we tear each other apart online), and when I came home today there were four boys on the couch playing with a GameCube that Ben had bought a few hours ago. There's something about Super Smash Bros. being played on a 100" screen that fills the heart of a boy my age. It brought something of a tear to my eye. Which quickly turned to the steely glint of rage, as I'm horrible at that game, and Ben is pretty stinking good.

Was in Duane Reede with a friend of mine (the girlfriend of one of the boys playing SSB. For some reason she jumped at the chance to go for a walk and get out of the apartment. Can't understand why. I wonder if it has something to do with the slow realization that there seems to be a linear correlation between the number of toys in my entertainment center and the amount I get laid. . .), and as I was browsing for a new deodorant I was reminded of something. When Sam and I were moving out of Queens, the last few days we didn't see that much of one another - stayed in touch by cell phone, made plans about who was going to clean what, and etc. One of the last conversations I had with him ended with him saying something like "I took all of my stuff out of the bathroom, so I'm all done there. I left you the shampoo and conditioner." Thanks, Sam.

He also took the good can opener, which is a total disaster. There are definitely two grades of can opener - the $3 and the $8, and the difference is worth SO much more than five dollars, it's riduculous. And I'm stuck with a $3 can opener. Sammy doesn't even eat tuna fish, so it drives me a little crazy. But what are you gonna do? Buy cans with those pop-tops, I guess. Wonder how many cans you would have to buy to make it cost effective to have bought the better can opener (I assume the pop-tops are more expensive). If anyone has done some work researching this, please get back to me.

That's it for now. Of course, it's not it for NOW, since I don't have a net connection, and I'll have to bring the laptop over to the local coffee shop to upload this. Which is getting tough, because I never get any coffee there, and they are a little annoyed that Ben and I are just sitting outside their window thieving their signal. Hey, it's not my fault everyone in my building keeps a WEP key. It's not like I'm giving my business to anyone else - I hate coffee.