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Generally there is a lot of garbage on YouTube, and I think that’s great and it’s nice to laugh at stuff. But today I decided to do a search and came up with some COOL stuff. If you don’t know who Bill Evans is, you need to watch this more than anyone. If you do, watch the way he plays. Unbelievable.

I was walking to work this morning and it was standard post-subway work-walk stuff: Hot girls inevitably going into Starbucks and the pleasure of fresh, cool air (compared to the subway which I can only describe as like being in some horrible Trash Sauna).

As I finished crossing the street an old man steps in front of me and then walks past. Naturally I was surprised to find he was pulling along one of those wheely suitcases. I stop on a dime as he continues on his old-man way. Slightly outraged, I grumbled my way into Starbucks and dreamed up this little situation:

(Andy has just exited the subway on 32nd St and is just about to cross the street when, similarly to the old-man situation, a passerby with a wheely-bag interrupts his stride)

Andy: Jesus! Watch where you’re going!

Devil: Um, I’m the Devil.

Andy: I mean you couldn’t just wear a backpa- wait. What?

Devil: I’m the Devil. You called me Jesus.

Jesus: Yeah?

Andy: Heeere we go…

Devil: Oh, hi Jesus. What’s up?

Jesus: Oh you know. Another day another dollar. Lime Bars are selling today like they’re goin’ outta style! Shit yes!

Andy: Hey Jesus, would you mind telling the devil to stop using a damn wheely bag? It’s really annoying

Devil: No one cuts me a break these days.

Jesus: Dude, I was f-ing crucified by my own followers. At least your followers only kill barnyard animals. Why don’t you just buy a freakin’ backpack?

Devil: I can use whatever I want!

Andy: Those wheely bags are so stupid. They just get in everyone’s way, and the handles are to short anyway so you have to bend over to use them.

Devil: Well Jesus stands here selling his damn Lime Bars out of that big cart!

Andy: Yeah but, they’re delicious.

Jesus: Right on my man. Also I’m Jesus. No one gets mad at me. Watch this.

(Jesus slaps an old woman right in the face)

Old Woman: Praise the Heavens!

Jesus: See?

Devil: Ugh. I hate you Jesus.

Andy: Duh.

Jesus: Alright bitches. I gotsta peace out. Catch ya on the flip!

Devil: Wait! I’ll take a lime bar – Andy you want one?

Andy: Sure.

Devil: Two, two lime bars.

Jesus: 8 dollars please.

Devil: What a freakin’ gyp – here.

Jesus: Pleasure doing business, suckers! Alright, time to bounce.

Andy: (together with the Devil) Bye Jesus.

Unless you can turn water into wine, I highly suggest you go buy a backpack. Do you really want the delay of hundreds of commuters and the broken hips of thousands of befallen old people on your head? I didn’t think so.

Pretty much every weekend this summer has been a total bust for me, and damnit, it’s not my fault. With a few minor exceptions, the best part of each week finds me IMing or calling everyone I know to see if they’re going to be in town. Typically, the resounding answer is “Oh sorrrrry, I’m going to the Hamptons.”

Well you know what? If you go to the Hamptons on the weekends during the summer, you are now officially lame. Yes, you belong to the elite club of the throngs of people that still think rollin’ on E is cool (or even know what it means). You rent a house with 15 other people and still have to pay 2 grand for the summer just to see some guidos try to hit on girls who are out of their league. Meanwhile, the girls use the guys for free drinks and then go pop some pills and makeout with all the losers dancing to glow-stick music…and we all know how I feel about glowstick “music.”

That being said, I have never actually been to the Hamptons. Why would I go? I’m too cool for it. WAY too cool. What do I do on my weekends during the summer? Well it usually consists of going to Central Park or if it’s a bit rainy, going to the movies. Come night-time I’ll go grab a beer somewhere chill with all the other people who are just too cool for the Hamptons. I also like to eat hot dogs. If I went to the Hamptons I bet I couldn’t even get a hot dog:

Andy: Excuse me, sir?

Guy: Yes?

Andy: I’ll have one hot dog.

Guy: Um…I don’t have any-

Andy: With some mustard

Guy: I don’t have any.

Andy: What?

Guy: I was just saying, I don’t have any hot dogs.

Andy: Why not?

Guy: I’m a lifeguar-

Andy: Well I don’t see you guarding too many lives right now. Go get me a hot dog!

Guy: It’s not my job!

Andy: But I’ll die if I don’t get one, and you have to save me from dying.

Guy: Oh that’s ridiculous, no one dies from not eating a hot dog.

Andy: I haven’t eaten in 18 days. I will die of starvation if I don’t have a hot dog soon.

Guy: Look, you obviously have eaten recently, you have a marinara stain on your shorts. You also don’t look the least bit tired or emaciated.

Andy: Fine, if you don’t make me a hot dog I am going to drown myself. What kind of place is this that doesn’t have hot dogs?

Guy: It’s a beach! I’m sure if you just walked a few hundred yards up to the–

Andy: I am not walking anywhere!

Guy: Well you can’t bother me all day – I have lives to save!

Andy: That’s funny, looking around just now I only see one person who has a need to fear death, and that, my friend, is you.

Guy: Ugh. Now you’re going to kill me if I don’t get you a hot–

*BANG*

Andy: I hate the Hamptons.

Let this be a warning to lifegaurds and Hampton-goers everywhere: ALWAYS carry hot dogs with you. Maybe you can find a way to infuse them with the stuff in glow sticks and just wave those around at your crappy euro-trash dance clubs. I’m sure it’ll impress all the beautiful people.

If you need to find me, I’ll be in Central Park, being too awesome for the likes of you.