Video: Share a video that makes you laugh every time you watch it.
So I've been working on expanding this blog for a while at another location. I wanted more control of my layout, mostly. I am not actually leaving VOX, and am just going to post both places for a while, but Sweet Tea does have a new home on the web, at blogspot: http://www.sweetteainnyc.blogspot.com
I messed around with TypePad, and WordPress, but decided I could do the most at BlogSpot, and get the look I exactly wanted with little html knowledge. I'm really happy without the site turned out.
Anyway, I'm not going anywhere. I will be at both places. I just wanted to try something new.
Even Bigger News: Jesus has a mullet.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I'm here to share the good word with you. Jesus is back, and if you're a female between the ages of 18 and 29, you can be a part of this glorious experience and join his ministry!
I was riding the train home from work on Friday evening, when a man carrying a sign that said "Earth Angel" boarded my car. He didn't look homeless or unkempt, the mullet aside. But he was nuttier'n a fruitcake, that's for sure. As soon as the doors swooshed shut, he launched into his speech. I didn't hear the first part, as my iPod was turned up, but when a quiet song came on, I got to hear all about the Good News.
Now, according to our little be-mulleted friend, he is the one and only earth angel to ever exist. J.C. in the flesh. He wants to take us all to heaven with him - well, by all, I mean any fairly attractive female between the ages of 18 and 29. "If you are even five minutes over the age of 29, you can't join." For some reason this seemed to genuinely offend some of the older female passengers, as if they were seriously considering joining for a second there. Hey guys, don't get touchy, them's the rules. He didn't make 'em, but he's got to enforce them.
I got off the train at the next stop, grateful to be leaving Mr. Christ on Earth behind. And that's when I realized he was right behind me, still preaching away. I headed for my bus stop, to take the bus across town, and he was just a few steps behind. The bus and I arrived at the stop at the same time, and I jumped to the front of the line, hoping the preacher man wouldn't follow. I found a seat next to someone else, preventing him from sitting next to me if he did decide to board. He stood outside, staring in while everyone stepped on, and just before the driver pulled away, he decided I wasn't a lost soul afterall and hopped on.
I stared out the window, and he continued to preach in my general direction. At this point I started to get a little nervous. Was this guy actually following me? What should I do if he follows me off the bus? Why oh why didn't I have mace? Can you actually mace someone just for following you around? Please don't let me be murdered by a man with a mullet who thinks he's Jesus! [Oh the humiliation!]
I decided to get off at the stop before mine, as it's a little busier. And the preacher man followed. Thoroughly freaked out at this point I turned around and practically screamed that I was going to call the police if he didn't stop following me. Apparently Mr. Earth Angel isn't afraid for his immortal soul, but he is afraid of the NYPD. He backed off, cursing me as he did so, and saying he was just trying to save me. Like I'm the asshole in this situation.
I didn't go immediately home, but walked around the block a few times, checking to make sure he wasn't around before I went into my building. Hey, I might be headed to hell in a hand basket, but I certainly don't want to arrive there any sooner than necessary, and certainly not at the hands of a be-mulleted subway preacher.
Ah, only in New York, my friends. Only in New York.
If you knew you had one week to live, what would you do, where would you go, who would you see?
Submitted by normatheartist
I need a little clarification here. How am I going to go? Because this is an important factor. Do I have a disease of some sort? Because if I'm so ill to the point that I have a week to live, my guess is that I'm probably going to be bed-ridden. Or is this one of those weird things where at some point I met a gypsy who let me view my death in a crystal ball, so that I know exactly when/where/how it's going down, but I can't change the outcome. And now there's a week left, and I've had years to come to terms with it ...so what would I do during this last week? OR... are we talking an end of the world type scenario? The asteroid/comet is headed our way, Jesus is back, and any moment now the seas will start boiling?
Just wondering. It kind of makes a difference.
Oddly enough this is a scenario my friends and I have often discussed over a few PBRs at Lula's, and the general consensus is that when the shit hits the fan, we all wanted to be right there with each other and that fantastic jukebox they used to have down there. [Which has since been replaced by a fancy shmancy electronic computerized jukebox. LAME.] When the asteroid hit, we'd all be right there together, dying in the place where we had spent most evenings. And this is either extremely poetic or extremely pathetic, depending on your point of view. [The older and further away from that time in my life I get, the more pathetic it appears, oddly enough. But not so pathetic that I would be the stick in the mud who ruined our last party by not showing up. My guess is that I'll become that stick in the mud eventually, but I probably have at least 15 good years left.]
But I digress.
Let's just go with a compromise here. Because if I'm bed-ridden, what is there to say? Oh, I'll suck some apple sauce through a straw and hallucinate that trolls are doing the Macarena across the ceiling, once the fever kicks in. And if we're talking apocalypse, there probably won't be much to do except head to higher ground and curse one another for not listening to all the greenies when we were originally warned that global warming would destroy us all. So we'll go with the gypsy scenario. I met a psychic when I was on a Big Adventure looking for my bike that was stolen, and before she told me the bike was in the basement of the Alamo, she let me see how/when I was going to die, and now the zero hour is upon me. [Yes, she was wrong about the bike as it turns out, but that's besides the point, as the Alamo didn't have a basement. Oh wait... that wasn't me. Crap. Okay, okay, but the death thing was definitely about me.]
So... what are my plans? [Gosh, it took me a long time to get to the actual answer of this question. I have problems.]
Well, I would have one last marathon sleep, because I really enjoy sleeping, and I don't know what the rules are about sleeping after you're dead. I mean, I know it's the "big sleep," but I doubt it's anything like being in my huge comfy bed. I would sleep for a good 14 or 16 hours, and then probably just stay awake the rest of the time, until the end.
I would make sure to spend quality time with my friends and family, individually, especially Goulah, of course. We'd go to Coney Island, because I've never been. I'd stay up all night talking with my friends and family, saying all the things that I should have probably said when I still had time. [As cliche as that is.] I would drink insane amounts of sweet tea, and gorge on all my favorite things: sushi, crab legs, asparagus, cucumbers, chocolate gelato, mashed potatoes, my grandma's cornbread, blueberries, broccoli smothered in cheese and ranch dressing, goat cheese, Doritos. All at once. With no regard to being full or getting fat. Mmmmm. I'd swim in the ocean one last time. I'd go out one night with my two best friends and stay up all night like we used to and laugh and sing and be stupid. At the end of the week, I'd have a nice, intimate dinner with my immediate family and closest friends. Kind of a like a birthday dinner except... well, a deathday dinner. I'd spend my last evening with Goulah, in our little apartment, where I am so happy. [...Trying to talk him into waiting until after the funeral to start dating again.]
These are probably things I should do anyway, imminent death or not. And there are probably a lot more things I'd want to do as well.
And, let's face facts, I'm probably going to have to work really hard to be cheery that week.
Show us your best pet photo.
Submitted by 8gurl.
