  Last night, I had absolutely zero intention of going out. But as they say no rest for the weary. So I took a fifty block walk, saw a cockroach coming out of a Starbucks (in the 40's on Lex fyi), watched in horror as a man fell in the middle of the street; a car missing him by mere inches, and laughed as I ran into the same transvestite for the eight hundreth time. Then I met up with Jamie, "numbers guy" extrodinare. Jamie is fabulous and my cousin. We had some beers with his number running friends all of whom are lovely. As we chatted about their recent arrival to the big city, I couldn't help but notice that one of the gentlemen was doing a spot on impression of Andrew Dice Clay/Vince Vaughn. It was pure insanity. We stoppped at Luna Park (go now, this is it's last summer before it becomes a playground for all the kids who don't live in Union Square) and I swear this guy actually said "Look at all the beautiful babies. " This was no impression. No, this was reality. It was magnificiant. It was game like I haven't seen in a long time. Big ups. Most def. 
