There’s a portion of my commute whereby the train hugs the Atlantic Ocean shoreline for about 5 miles. It was sunny and quiet this morning. The ocean was absolutely flat. I rarely see it that calm. It was like a piece of glass. It hurt to look at it in the morning sun.

I was walking through Penn Station and saw a New York City Police officer patrolling the station with a German Sheppard. He took his iPhone out of his pocket, looked at something on the screen and then showed it to his dog. The dog looked at the iPhone and then up at the Officer. I have no idea what that was about but it was a funny slice o’ life.

The new Kindle is another nail in the coffin for traditional newspapers. It’s so sad. Print newspapers are dying and they cannot be resurrected. I’ll miss having ink stained hands.

This is a great time to live in New York if you are not a fan of the Yankees. You get to witness, up close, the flame-out of a once storied sports dynasty. The new stadium is a terrible mistake for many reasons. The insufferable and endless boasts of Yankee fans are a thing of the past. Now, it’s all schadenfreude, all the time. It’s great!

I left work at 11:15 p.m. last night. The next person didn’t leave until 1:00 a.m. Today, I’m in the dog house for leaving “early.” Fucking management. I hate them all.

I can no longer smoke weed. After I get high, I start to question every decision I’ve ever made in life. Weed is supposed to be fun. That’s not fun.

I rank “office hijinks” blogs on the same low rung as “mommy” blogs, but certain things are creeping up that I simply cannot ignore. I’ll keep it to a minimum.

Some people bring cookies and biscuits to work. It’s a nice gesture that lifts everyone’s spirits and provides a sugar jolt.

My Chinese colleague brought in a bag of dried octopus tentacles. She said it’s an Asian delicacy

Somewhere on the bottom of the ocean there’s an octopus in a wheel chair cursing humans.

(Thank you very much. I’m here all week. Please tip your waitress.)

I embarrassed myself by asking her what was written on the bag and she said didn’t know since she is Chinese and the writing is in Japanese. What a dopey White person I am!

For lunch she ordered fried rice with anchovies and chicken. I passed on the octopus tentacles but the fried rice sounds delicious. To me.

I am re-posting this. After reading it, I thought it gave off a terrible stink and sounded bitchy so I deleted it. But Rob liked it and I trust his judgment.

Dear White People:

Please stop using the word “sweet” as a descriptor for things unrelated to taste. Cars, shirts, movies, electronic gadgets etc., are not sweet. Also, please stop inserting “like” into the middle of a sentence where it doesn’t belong. And don’t turn every sentence into a question, as in, “I was, like, calling my sorority sister?”

Dear Black People:

Please stop using the word “situation” to describe your circumstances. It’s time to retire it from your lexicon. Find a different descriptor. Use predicament. It contains the same number of syllables so it’ll be an easy transition. Also, please stop punctuating your sentences with, “ya know what I’m sayin’.” We know what you’re saying.

Thank you.

This is the New York Public Library internet access room with the early evening sun pouring in. I spent many hours here conducting my job search. This is a great place to spend a cold February day if you’re unemployed.

I got a message from a friend who was recently laid off. He was sitting in a Manhattan coffee shop, reading a Philip K. Dick novel and watching the world pass by. We had a freak 5-day heat wave and all the girls had shelved their winter clothing for lighter fare, so there was plenty to look at. Seeing the female populace change their wardrobe from winter to summer is akin to a chrysalis opening to reveal a beautiful butterfly.

I remember having days like that during my four-month bout of unemployment. If you can calm yourself and not panic, unemployment can be quite enjoyable.

Enjoy it, pal. It won’t last forever.

Have you heard the new single from Green Day, Know Your Enemy? Holy shit, man. These guys amaze me. How long have they been at it? 20 years? And they’re still great!

Billie Joe Armstrong is the grand master of the lyric and crunchy guitar hook. He inherited the guitar lick mantle from Keith Richards after Keith stopped giving a shit (right after Tattoo You, if you ask me).

Give this a listen but close your eyes. The visuals are a lot of kewl rock star poses and explosions, which can be off-putting, but the song is extraordinary. And if you want it, buy the single from iTunes or wait for the album to come out and then buy it. DO NOT FUCKING STEAL THIS SONG! That bullshit has got to stop.