D.C. or Bust
August 31st, 2003So, I’m off to D.C. for the weekend. Do you just LOATHE the way I casually bring it up, as if I just jet off to random cities and locations every single weekend? Hell… I never like to leave my beloved Manhattan, but it’s gonna be nice to go someplace new for a few days. Randyboy will be tagging along as my trusty sidekick. We’re staying with Kyle, who promises to deliver furious thunderstorms, BBQ, and misadventures in Dupont. Woo-hoo! We three kings are gonna have fun, man. Texans keeping it live and whatnot. WOOT.
Have a happy Labor Day Weekend! We got no tax, innit, so go out and SPEND YOUR SHIT! I’m on my way out to catch my magical Chinatown bus. See you all when I get back.
Accosting Ms. Perez
August 31st, 2003I walked into the lobby @ work the other day and was greeted by a lovely sight: standing at the desk in the middle of the rather empty lobby was Hot Vanessa, one of my favorite managers from from the Hudson Bar. Woo-hoo! I’ve seen this tiny little lady handle some of the rowdiest drunken motherfuckers in all of New York, dance her ass off on the main floor — often goiing from one right to the other — and she’s just so freakin cute when she does all of it. She’s fiesty, she’s cute, and she’s sized XS like me. While I have yet to actually get some CARNAL LOVIN’ from the hot little gal, she does give me really really big hugs and call me “Cutey” (which is better than nothing), and thus I decided to start my shift off with a little bit of Vanessa in my life. Seeing her standing there in her little skirt and that Newsies cap sortof made me smile. So I creeped, yeah, I just kept it on the down-low and snuck up behind her, wrapped my arms around her waist and laid my face into her the back of her neck.
“What’s up, cutey,” I cooed.
HotVanessa’s entire body stiffened up and I was not met with the warm greeting I was hoping for. No warmth. No affectionate reponse.
Instead, all I got back was an offput, monotone, “Uhhh… excuse me.” And I craned my body over and around to hopefull catch a playful smile from her, letting me know she was just joking and not actually giving me the hand. “I like your hat,” I added.
That’s when I saw her face and realized that I was sadly mistaken. I was not pressed up against the curvy buttocks of HotVanessa… instead, I was standing there with my arms around the waist of a very beautiful, very frightened Rosie Perez. “Thanks…” she said slowly, staring at me with wide eyes and a glazed look on her face.
Shit. I let go of her (shit, that bitch is from the Bronx — I’m lucky she didn’t bodyslam my ass and beat me like I stole something). But it was too late now. I’d already made a fool of myself and was not gonna make it worse by vomiting up some awkward apology that would only embarass myself and her even more. Hell no, I was gonna play this shit off like a damn fool.
“So are you enjoying your stay?” I asked, all chipper and smiley.
She just sort of took a step back from me, like This kid is crazy. “Um, I’m meeting some friends in the Terrace Bar.”
“Ahh, well we have an outdoor patio deck up on the 15th floor —-”
“Thanks, bye,” she abruptly replied, bolting away towards the elevators and probably to make an emergancy call to her bodygaurd to have me killed.
How does shit like that happen to me? I’d really like to know. It ended up being ok. She actually came back down to the lobby later on with some friends and came back up to me @ the desk (safely on the OTHER side), smiling a little, and asking me where the restrooms where. Hoping to redeem myself a bit, I walked her over myself. But I kept my hands where her eyes could see them the whole time.
St. Joshua, Squared
August 29th, 2003Remember when I told you about this? Heh. Well, I just saw this. Who knew she was such a hornball?
I’ve already emailed the writer to let her know that she’s a little late to the game. Rest assured, winners, that you knew about her WAYYY before anyone else did. That’s b/c you? are so. freaking. cool. 
And So We Keep Going
August 29th, 2003Guess what? It’s our anniverary. Yours and mine.
SpriteboyWorld.com is one year old today. That’s right, winners, it was one year ago today that I posted (and you began reading) my first entry on this here site… well, actually it was on THAT there site (the uglier, old one). Wow, so much has changed since then. New job, new living setup, new outlook, new status, new friends, even a new website layout. Seems like little things, I know, but they feel bigger. And yet at the same time? I find myself once again sitting up at my computer, once again watching the VMA’s, and once again mindlessly typing away useless tidbits of personal information onto this page for no one in particular to read. Yet all of you are here. Reading. It’s just funny.
Thanks. I’m enjoying it.
So, some thoughts on last nights VMA’s…
[/end of VMA commentary]
My old desktop. My new desktop. Oh, and I found this indirect shout-out to HUDSON pretty damn funny.
Happy Friday, winners. I’d do The Friday Five for ya, but I’m busy blonding myself at the moment. A blond ambition, one might say. I’ve got two full pitchers of iced tea chilling in the fridge, some leftover Domino’s heating in the microwave, and a plateful of soft banana nut bread to keep me fueled and energized for the task. It’s a grueling process but we’re making progress, dammit. 
Shaggy Intentions
August 28th, 2003UK Matt: chrissle.
Spriteboy: yes, matty?
UK Matt: i have a song to accompany my trip to the states.
Spriteboy: Neil Diamond’s ‘Coming to America’?
UK Matt: no
UK Matt: ’40 boys in 40 nights’ by the donnas
Spriteboy: ROCK!
Spriteboy: oh, i am having some friends over tonight to watch the vma’s. we’re having pizza and bananna nut bread
UK Matt: ok
Spriteboy: and maybe some group sex
UK Matt: am i invited?
Spriteboy: can you be here by 7pm?
UK Matt: what time is it now?
Spriteboy: 1:20pm. use your magical flying sky pencil to get here fast.
UK Matt: i shall ride like the wind!
Spriteboy: bring some pepsi
Spriteboy: the orignal kind. not that vanilla kind.
UK Matt: i like the vanilla coke
Spriteboy: me too!
UK Matt: (i typed vanilla cock the first time!)
UK Matt: (i’ve not tried that though)
Spriteboy: hey
UK Matt: i have a potty mouth :(
Spriteboy: leave that raunchy british humor in london, young man
Spriteboy: we love jesus up in here
UK Matt: hoorah!
I Can’t Get No Sleep
August 27th, 2003Ohhh, wretched evil, thy name is Insomnia.
What the hell does Jai Rodriguez DO on Queer Eye? I was so excited that he was gonna be on this show… and he’s really done nothing but stand around and laugh and maybe show somebody how to shake hands. Tonight he gave somebody a tip on how to open a CD wrapper by sliding it across the edge of a tabletop. And BOOM, that’s it. Cut. Print. Perfect. Jai is wrapped for the day. Thanks, Jai. See ya tomorrow. Fucking schmo. Get a haircolor that makes sense.
A crew of A&R nobody’s from some B-list recording company pissed me off @ work tonight. I hate when our celebs get all diva, but I hate it even more when NON-celebs like industry background ppl try to throw their NON-weight around. The fact that you are the payroll supervisor for Ja-Rule’s agent means dip shit to me, bitch. You booked a Single room, so you’re getting a fucking Single room. No upgrades for your ass. And no, I don’t know OR care who the hell you are but I’ll tell you who I am — I’m the one who controls whether or not you get crank called anonamously throughout the night. I’m the one who decides whether or not you get a smoking room smack dab against a noisy a/c unit near the elevators. And I’m also the one who can command a plethora of porno charges to your room bill and send it to your boss for the monthly expense report. Try me, shitheads, try me.
(Don’t mess with me when I’m all in my militant mode, yo.)
Would somebody please make David Spade stop wearing that stupid floppy hairstyle? This is not the mid-90′s grunge era and he is not Ethan Hawke. Stop it now, David. Just stop it.
I’m intrugued by this movie Thirteen, and even moreso by the fact that one of the lead actresses is also the screenwriter… and she’s 15. Her name is Nikki Reed and she actually wrote the movie from a diary she kept when she was 13 years old, and now the film is blowing audiences away. I think that’s just amazing. Holly Hunter is in it and she fucking rocks the casbah (did you winners SEE Living Out Loud?), and everyone is saying good things about the two lead girls (one of them being Nikki). I’m gonna see if maybe I could interview her for that upcoming Pavement Magazine issue.
Ohhh, on my lunchbreak tonight I discovered that McDonald’s sells 3 cookies for $1. GOOD cookies, too! Soft chocolate chip. Woo-hoo!
So, some company will be joining me in my place, in my place this Thursday night for the VMA’s. This will be a rare thing for me, as I usually tend to shy away from hosting get-togethers for fear that nobody will have a good time. Even in my Texas existance, I never had friends sleepover @ my house. I never had aprty either, it just seemed so risky. To me, the only thing worse than nobody showing up to your party? is if only like, 2 ppl show up and are witnesses to the fact that no one else came. I have to clean my apt, man, b/c it looks like… well, pretty much how it always looks. I should prolly set out more sticky traps b/c I can’t be having mice running along my floor during the middle of Beyonce looking so crazy right now and whatnot.
Been a breezy (fo sheezy) week so far. Just enjoying my groove and looking forward to my little quicktrip to D.C. this weekend. I can’t wait to wander that gorgeous subway system of theirs. It’s so vast and clean and pretty, like something out of Gattaca. I sort of flove the names of all the stops, too.
On the homefront, I tried to watch The O.C. tonight and I’m sorry, but no. Just no.
B-I-N-G-O!
August 26th, 2003To all my fellow New Yorkers who are ever bored on a lifeless Monday night? get your sweet asses to Global 33 for Drag Queen Bingo Night! Ok, I know what you’re thinking, and when Randyboy invited me to come down and meet him and his 7 happy roommates (yes, SEVEN — it’s the true story, of seven strangers…) last night. I was pretty sure it was gonna be lame. But I braved that shit and made my way down to the lower east side, had me a fucking blast. There was a DJ kicking it at the booth and a funnyass, not-too-overbearing drag queen calling the numbers — I forgot how much fun Bingo is! That game can be fucking addictive, and they all gave away cool prizes for each round… Messenger bags, cell phones, tee shirts (“Fuck You If You Don’t Like Bingo!”), and board games. One of Randifer’s new roomie’s actually won a round and got our table a free pitcher of cosmopolitans. I didn’t win anything buty I had a great time, and I totally wasn’t expecting to. So damn cool when that happens.
Random truth: Since finding this site, it is not uncommon for me to sit transifxed and motionless in front of my computer monitor for hours on end. oH AND BY THE WAY, big big thanks to the fools @ BlackTable.com for constructing this right-on little document. Hell yes. I will forwarding that shit to so, so very many clueless ppl I know.
Stop the press. The sky has fallen and hell has frozen over. Or whatever. On the heels of his decision to let the world know what’s up (and also sick of my constant nagging, pushing, and peircing banshee-like cries), my handsome-n-hilarious east-ender buddy UK Matt has @ long last caved into weblogging peer pressure and taken a URL residence. Oh happy day! Load up his website from time to time for brash, snarky, quasi-drunken updates on friends, video games, and semi-charmed life in London. Keep your eyes peeled for upcoming posts on his site and also on this here site, as well as there and there, when all four of us team up for one fun November weekend of mischeif and monkeybusiness in NYC, thanks to the goodness of CheapTickets.com. All three of em will be crashing @ Casa de Sprite (muffins for everyone!), so I look fwd to all kinds of hijinks up in here up in here. Heh.
After I arrived home tonight (having caught on express train, btw), I found an extra box of pop-tarts in my cupboard, caught 2 great episodes of Daria, and found that 7 of my favorite net buddies were all online to chat with. It was a lovely way to end my day off.
The Fleeting Mr. Bedingfield
August 25th, 2003My weekend in the east village was fucking awesome. I didn’t go above 8th Street for 3 days! I’d just wake up, wander around that gorgeous loft apartment, have a big breakfast, walk the dog (evil little bitch), and spend the day sifting through the streets of Chinatown, Soho, and Little Italy. Felt like a damn vacation. It was awesome. Now I’m back up @ the North Pole and ugh, reality bites. But I can see Mars better from up here.
Guess what, Mission: Idiot* is currently screening @ some film festival up in the Poconos! Woo-hoo! The band who’s music plays in the background of my boyband scenes is actually headlining the festival. Wish I could go, but alas, I’m broke and in the city. But I highly recommend all of you to going. The movie is funny, I hear, and when my name comes up in the credits? it is important that all of you throw your hands up at me. Sprite, I didn’t know you could get down like that…
I spent a good portion of my (usually bland and lonely) overnight hours gabbing mindlessly away on the phone with Kyle, uber-wonderboy of Sparkology.net. Fun stuff. Hot topics of the evening included weblogging, wet weather, amateur porn, our mutual love for Felicity (and other dead WB shows), the desire to own a small dog, the need for more Allison Janey, and why I (apparently) desperately need to see Finding Nemo. Kyle cracked my shit up and made me want to hop on the next Chinatown bus to play with him in D.C. The buses run both ways, boy! Now draw me a picture, dammit!
Flipping through my digicam last night and found this secret little shot of Miss K and Randyboy, taken on our IKEA day last weekend. Little sneaks.
So, the cool kids @ Gothamist are throwing another Happy Hour for NYC Bloggers, and my coolass buddy BrooklynAaron is co-hosting it too. They’re doing it @ that cyber lounge in the village, which I’ve heard lots about. I didn’t have a good time @ the last Blogger Bash I went to, but this one looks like it’ll be fun. Plus, Aaron promised that I can sit next to him @ the table.
Saw that movie The Magdeline Sisters this weekend. It made me want to find a nun and punch her in the face. Twisted, evil, frigid bitches.
In humbling news: The ever-ambiguous and flirtatious Daniel Bedingfield is back @ Hudson but has ceased all his usually persistant attempts at stalking me. He’s actually not said a damn word to me. Instead, he seems to have moved on to my beautiful co-worker Canyon, who checked him in the other night and basically had him at hello. Hmph. Not that I blame him, she’s a knockout and I won’t even try to cockblock (tempted as I am to taunt him about being referenced countless times on the Vh1 Totally Gay special, I shan’t). While I fully support his game and respect the fluidity of his eurosexuality, I can’t help but question: AM I THAT FORGETTABLE?! 
Enjoy your VIP passes to the VMA’s this year, Canyon. I’ll just be sitting at home watching from the solitude of my non-stellar and non-UK-pop-singer world. Didn’t wanna go anyway. Damn you.
* yes, that’s my blond spiky head on the poster.