Scotter (whom I miss more than I care to admit and who refuses to read 34, ever) was in from Seattle for a few days for the holiday. I met up with him at Penn Station last evening and we walked around the city for five hours before he had to head back to Long Island.

Constituting the least surprising event to have ever happened in Manhattan, we went directly to Nintendo World in Rockefeller Center. (I hate everyone who visits midtown Manhattan in the 34 day period between Thanksgiving and New Years. Please leave now, and don't come back next year. There are trees and lights where you are from.) Neither of us had played the Wii before, and after waiting in a brief queue we got our chances, albeit on separate consoles. Wii Sports was being demo'ed downstairs; we found out later that there was Zelda upstairs, with type of line that you'd expect for Zelda.

I played tennis and Scotter chose baseball. Using the Wii's remote really does put a smile on your face, and after quickly losing to the computer 2-0 I found myself wishing I could play some more. Not particularly wishing it enough to buy one for myself (not that I could, anyway, without getting up at 5:00am and hoping that they received a large shipment that day), but I have a feeling that if I had a chance to play Zelda instead of a few minutes of tennis I'd be sold.

Leaving Nintendo World, we headed to Korea Town, and ate at a place that was across the street from Pinkberry, which has been getting a lot of buzz in the New York food blogs. My main objective was to report back to Sheryl about the quality of the frozen yogurt. Unfortunately, it was just that: frozen, (fat-free!?!) plain yogurt. It tasted about as good as a cup on Dannon fresh from the freezer. Scotter was going to pass until he saw that one of the non-fruit toppings was Cap'n Crunch, which I think is a bad idea on a lot of things, including Pinkberry.

Cap'n Crunch as Christ (not the historical Christ, presumably) is something I can hang with. We passed that picture at the Andrew Kolb gallery on Park Avenue while walking down to the Union Square Barnes & Noble, and thank goodness Scotter noticed it. It hurts a little bit to know that I know longer have a monopoly on cereal art, but damn, someone buy me "The Last Breakfast" for Channukah.

We walked by both of the old ACTV offices, and reminisced about getting paid an awful lot of money to sit up late at night in front of a computer.

After bumming around Union Square for a bit we walked back up to Penn Station in time for Scotter's 11:02pm train. The drunken half of Long Island was out in full force, and amid a sea of brown bagged Buds and lip gloss, I bid him a good trip back to the West Coast.

I am starting a rumor, completely untrue, that he's planning on moving back to New York, so pass it on.


  1. You need to put Fuck Ye Gharns up on the site, duder.

  2. Well, I'd need to get Ryan to scan it in first.


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