D.I.L.F.

So I was again in DUMBO to tutor Su. Actually, I had another appointment to tutor my other tutee an hour earlier. She had train troubles and had to cancel. But at this café, I saw the sweetest, most beautiful thing. She was so adorable and I had to talk to her. So, I waited until the café was closing up and went to the counter (she's the counter girl) and asked if they were closed (duh). She asked what I wanted, I'm assuming they might have had a pastry lying around or some coffee left. And I told her I actually just wanted an excuse to get her name. And the oddest thing happened. She blushed and laughed and smiled and smiled. And I was like, "is she for real?" all puzzled and shit. I should have known. By this time, Su had long shown and had encouraged me to go talk to her. Without Su, I doubt I would have said anything. Really. I swear it. So boom, trying desperately to not make a fool of myself I proceed to talk. I ask her how often she's there and does she go to school only to find out she does! Man, I almost asked her what school she goes to when something told me to ask her if she goes to college. Little Ms. Hottie goes to high school. Insert sad face here. I took wings and flew away, almost asap! I did tell her that she's the sweetest thing though.

So, the consequence? Well, first, Su did say, afterwards, that she had the feeling Ms. Sweetest Thing Hottie was too young. I was a smidge perturbed she didn't express this feeling earlier. But also, I realized an older woman wouldn't have been as intrigued or delighted by my come on. It was honest, I really did just want to talk to her and get her name. And I really did think she is the sweetest thing. But had I felt the same of a woman more my age, the response would have been no where near the gratuitous one I received from Ms. Sweetest Thing. Oy Vey. So what am I to conclude? I missed the boat. I'm old; almost thirty. Don't have a job either. Don't have too much of a future. Ain't really got any talents. And the women my age don't take me seriously. I missed the boat. Ah well. I guess I should see it as their loss.

Maybe I'll hit the lotto. Then I'll hang out outside a high school and pick me up a woman?

I'm being facetious.

"I heard you fags wanna catch me off guard, put tefs in my heart/
the death of Escobar under your breath, whispers in the dark/
I hear 'cause the street ain't loyal to choose sides/
prepare for the beef, whoever lose dies/
rich and I'm thuggin', I can't trust nothing/
this bitch that I'm fucking, this clip that I'm busting/
could jam in my fist, look at my hand/
finger pussy, walk, spend some rings, cut coke cookies/
wrote poetry and broke noses B..."
Nas on B Ez by Capone and Noreaga

One of the most underrated rap verses ever.

Today I'm feeling:

prime

Though I'm probably pass it.

Oxymorons

Alright, so Leila calls me a mother fucker, with the space in between mother and fucker. She's such a riot. And that got me to thinking, among other things about calling someone a gay motherfucker. Then I gets to thinking "gay mother fucker." And I'm like wtf? That's a bloody oxymoron. What led me there? Well, with the space in between mother and fucker, I saw it as someone actually being called a person who fucks mothers. Not such the generic term for another person, e.g. motherfucker. Aren't semantics fun? Outside of this, I really have a lot of posts to catch up on and any frivolous topic, at the moment, can be taken advantage of. It's October and I haven't even caught up with August yet!

"I'll probably have a future of stress, stay depressed and live alone/
but as far as the present time, it's on!"
Dead Prez on the Pistol

Today I'm feeling:

like m.i.l.f. retardant

See next post.

Note to self: Blogger's spell check no longer picks up "fucker" or "motherfucker". The times are a changin' indeed.

Characters

So I was just touched by the sweetest little filmsy wilmsy. No, it wasn't the most entertaining thing, but Lars and the real woman was decent enough to watch. And, like I said, it did touch the hell out of me. I think the one thing the film had going for it, it really developed its characters, especially Lars. I'd recommend a Blockbuster night when this thing releases to DVD.

"My heart be still, that girl... that girl got me."
Sean Luxembourg trying to echo the sentiments of amore

Today I'm feeling:

like everything is falling into place

Things always happen the way they're supposed to. And speaking of supposed to happen, you've all voted for my photos today right? Oh, if you haven't, your buttocks sure need to. Daddy needs that trip to Paris, bitches! www.metphoto.org. I'm not kidding.

And has anyone heard the Stars song Bitches in Tokyo?

Utter randomness

Building in the East Village

Excuse this post. Just posting for the sake of posting.

Cold sake is truly no different from hot sake, by the way.

And apart from lesbians, I like Canadians. How random is that?

And I have my eyes on a regular spot to watch Monday Night Football. I've got two running backs going that, between them, need to tally 22 fantasy points in order for me to win. Essentially, if Laurence Maroney and fill in Kenny Watson can each rush for 100 yards and a score, I win. It's a long, long shot.

"Skinny boy,
some love, some prostitution"
Amy Millan on Skinny boy

Today I'm feeling:

the premonitions of losing

And don't forget to vote for my photos over at www.metphoto.org.

Photo Op

D.U.M.B.O.

Well, I guess it's about time I see what my photos are made of. You all out there, get your butts over to www.metphoto.org on the double and vote for me! Give all my photos 5 star ratings!!!!

Can't find my photos? There are 5 of them, just type "Sean" in the 'search by photographer' box. There are some real classy pics on the site, but I think mine hold their own.

"It's not over, not over, not over yet"
Klaxons on It's not over yet

Today I'm feeling:

intent, again

Graping

Oy vey. Inertia is a bitch. I really couldn't push up the other day because of the hangover. That headache isn't conducive to doing shit, except maybe hike. Now, it's harder than ever to get down. It's like starting over. But I'm grinding it out!

Lily Allen. She's making it happen. She's got a groovy track on the new Mark Ronson album, Version, and she's getting sick airplay on a track with Common now. Go Lily!

You know what's fucking up my work-out routine. Chocolate. I just can't eat the stuff, it's poison. Everyone, quick, stick to alcohol. The preferred poison of healthy people everywhere.

"she was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene/
I said don't mind but what do you mean 'I am the one'?"
Michael on Billie Jean

Today I'm feeling:

only too careless

You like how I say just Michael, yeah?

Max't

Just realized that I have 1017 songs on my iPod Mini. It's time for me to get a new one with way more memory. I've maxed out my iPod. Can you believe that?

Good thing I deleted all those Mike Jones songs.

"Mike Jones, who?/
Mike Jones!"
Mike Jones on everything he's ever recorded

Today I'm feeling:

full

Void

...

"All eyes are on me now."
Tegan and Sara on Floorplan

Reminds me of Tupac as well.

Been watching a little more television than usually, lately. So you know that shit eats your eyeballs and chews 'em like gum? Your brain doesn't fare much better.

Today I'm feeling:

luke cold

Bonus quote!

"Maybe I would have been something you'd be good at. Maybe you would have been something I'd be good at."
Tegan and Sara on Call it off

"I just want back in your head"

The gang's all queer

No offense to anyone in the photo...

It was cool being around a bunch of women, all of whom didn't rock any make-up and where pretty gritty: hiking and shit. Nah, they weren't all hardcore, but a couple were. It's like opening up a photo album and saying the first thing that comes to mind. So I just randomly uploaded this photo, and wrote the first things that came to mind, while this song was playing:

"...remember when I was so strange and likable?/
I just want back in your head/
I just want back in your head/
I'm not unfaithful but I stray/
when I get a little scared..."
Tegan and Sara on Back in your head

Today I'm feeling:

unleveled

Split

Wow! Wow. Wow. Wowwwwwwwwwww! Wow.

Just was floored by a bit of info. It seems my first love, a woman I will always remember but would be fine if I never hear from or see again, is getting married next month. And moving to New Jersey. I'm floored. Great woman. Super intelligent. Amazing eyes. Pretty. Clean. Actually, she's perfect, from what I remember, in every way except a couple. I knew she'd make some man very happy. Never thought she'd take the plunge. Why? She told me. She said something about not ever wanting to get married. Also, in reference to us she said "let's never get married." It was like déjà vu (and more painful) when the most recent and only the second love of my life told me the same exact thing (I think I love the most recent one more I guess). It only goes to show... something, though I'm not sure what? So I guess I won't be shocked when I hear love number 2 is getting married 6 years down the line.

New rule added, "when 'she' says 'let's never get married,' it's time to split!"

"...you've become somebody else 'round everyone else/
watching your back like you can't relax/
trying to be cool, you look like a fool to me/
tell me why'd you have to go and make things so complicated?..."
Avril Lavigne on Complicated

Today I'm feeling:

astonished

and just when I thought everything was back to normal...

Ouch!

Peach!

Today I broke my motherfucking foot. Such a shame too, because I was holding off on starting my workouts until tomorrow because I had a basketball game tonight I didn't want to exhaust myself for. Here's the kicker, the workouts are intended to be my emotional chicken soup. I was suppose to become a fucking workout beast.

I've completely lost my appetite too. I've been eating nothing but peaches and fucking nectarines for days.

Now I have a broken foot. A monkeyfucking broken foot! Argggh! I think I'm still going to start my workouts though. Push ups, crunches and a light jog while I heavily favor my broken right foot.

"I'm caught in self destruction, I spend my life in hell/
no gladness, no crying, don't see the light of day"
Reign of fire by Messiah's kiss

Today I'm feeling:

broked

As in I broked my foot.

From where Big Brother can't see you...

Man I wish I hadn't stopped blogging. How could I just jump ship? Ugh, I'm so bemused by my blogospheric actions. Consider me the sudoku of Blogspot.

So I caught this absolutely superb movie that I have to give a resounding thumbs up to. 3:10 to Yuma. Critics love it and for once I couldn't agree more. I'd actually pay to catch this thing. It's a Western with drama, action and almost completely devoid of romance. The pace, the direction, the cinematography is top fucking notch. Catch it if you get the opportunity. It's automatically in my top 3.

Otherwise, I've got some typing to do. I've got to catch up.

What happened you ask? Well, to be honest, transcribing lyrics got me lazy. I'd have no trouble typing, but to listen and type lyrics seemed daunting when I just didn't want to do it. And I didn't want to create posts without lyrics. It was inertia that made me all but give up.

"...you can't get paid and the Earth this big?/
you worthless kid, nigga don't deserve to live..."
Cam'ron on Losin' Weight

Today I'm feeling:

emaciated

NYC needs an OnStar button

I posted a rant in the rants and raves personals section of the New York Craigslist. I ranted about the disgrace that is the MTA's adjudication bureau and their handling of my summons. Here's a reply I received in my inbox.

all the homeless niggers laying across 5 seats never get summonsed, summons are for working people with proper id etc.

not for the homelss or illegal immigrants

He's right. I'll leave New York to the flying rats, the terrestrial rats, and all the awesome people that will still live here when I'm gone. The rest of the jerks can eat guano.

"...I have drunk your wine/
you have made your world mine/
so won't you be fair..."
Cat Stevens (when he was still Cat Stevens) on Trouble

Today I'm feeling:

hot

As in the air up there is uncomfortable.

Plain pain

Sean and Jennykins at Union Pool, Brooklyn, NY (pay no mind to drunk Olga in the background)

Is that Jenny or Jolie?!?

I finally took a photo I actually look Black in.

My knee is really in the shitter. Woke up this morning to find that it is in agonizing pain and I've got a big game tonight. I now know that my team is officially going to be gang raped. I don't even see us having enough players and I can't even jump.

Maybe the MacDaddy'll make me?

"...I'm the wrong one to lie to/
Shit, I'm the man who supply, who supply, who supply you..."
Beanie Sigel on Cru Love

Today I'm feeling:

deeply saddened

This life thing is composed of so many facets. A cut and dry situation is a rare find. Emotions have so many levels. Sadness is recurrent, I find, when happiness is visible but not within reach. Sometimes we just do it to ourselves.

After her aperture

Picture in picture

I think I was hit on by a guy today at Bryant Park. I wasn't flattered. And it's obvious that I should NOT be a model. 'Nuff said.

I got ditched again! KFC hasn't called me since she met me that fateful morning. Maybe I was supposed to hold her or something? I don't know, how do you deal with a person who claims she was just assaulted? Yeah, I'm going to stop thinking about these fruitless paths I allow myself down.

Alright, so if I did a LuxembourgLand T-shirts thing at CafePress, how many of you out there would shell out some bread for one?

I's is not the only one.

"Pumpin' sand, gun in hand, Sean the man, told ya/
I stay on point like that Uncle Sam poster"
Sean J of the Field Mob on 229

Today I'm feeling:

Clandestine

I mean seriously, I took a picture of a picture...

"Beyond category"

When interviewed or simply asked about other talented musicians of his day, Duke Ellington was fond of responding "beyond category." For example, you read this blog, and quite regularly I might add. And because you appreciate your minute's worth of reading here, you remark that LuxembourgLand is "beyond category!"

The International Photography Center was goooood! The photos were poignant, immersing, and beyond category. Ironically, photos were not allowed.

Sitting in Union Square Park until morning on a holiday weekend is like life on a kabob. I even saw a group of White people get ticketed by the police for drinking in public. I suppose they were trying to get loosened up before the club. But the highlight of my sitting was being eyed by a hottie who was with another couple and the guy the couple was trying to set her up with... or something. It wasn't just me that felt she was into me, Jenny was right there with me to confirm that she was indeed checking me out. Summer in the city...

"clocks never stop/
it's all a race to the top/
trying to freeze time that's why I iced the face on my watch"
AZ on New Life (Intro)

Today I'm feeling:

greatly tortured

I think it's called eustress. Nothing like ice cream and eustress, right?

Crumbly cookies... the tasty kind

And this week's museum? The International Center of Photography! Be forewarned, I'm expecting this one to be the best one yet! I'm am truly excited to go to this place. It will give me the opportunity to see how excitable I am when it comes to photography. It's like delving into a potential passion. Details to follow. Aren't you all excited for me? New York City is the cheese to my macaroni (get it, Leila?).

I wanted to go sit out in the park this evening and watch people. Coulda, shoulda, and woulda, but whaddya know? I didn't. Don't we do that to ourselves all the time? I'll probably go straight there tomorrow after my ball game.

"...She sexed me good but I should have known/
come in to this world alone, leave this world alone..."
Steele of the Cocoa Brovas/Smiff N Wesson on Dry Snitch

Today I'm feeling:

relatively pain free

Relative to yesterday.

Seen that scene before it seems

My old ass is in trouble. Trouble, trouble, trouble! Played my second game of the week last night and my knee is in pain. Pain, pain, pain! Ouch. I've got 'till 8:30pm Thursday to take care of myself in time for my third game. I'll likely just have to man up and battle through the ouches.

Now this is what I'm talking about. Inevitably, friendships always take themselves to the next level by way of the massage. When either friend start asking for rub downs, it's time to start thinking about each other in a whole new light. I don't know where KFC really wants to go with this, but so far she's asked me to tell her a bed time story, blow her a kiss, and give her a massage. That's not a just friends sort of deal... as far as I'm concerned. Not that I really appreciate conversing with her to that. My 4 hour long talks with the Quasi Buddhist from late April were ten times more exhilarating (though, after the second one, they quickly went to shit). I can't complain. Having someone to talk to at night sure takes the edge off of being a-fucking-live. But I'm going to have to flip on her if I hear one more diatribe on how awful her ex was!

Still got on this stinky ass shirt. And you know what? I'm not taking it off, nor washing. Fuck it.

"...y'all don't do much but drink 40s, look dumb on the block/
damn near 40, still running from cops..."
Beanie Sigel on I don't do much

Today I feel:

geriatric

Really, it's a good time now to call my woman friend that is for massaging my back after basketball games. I guess I could reciprocate by listening to her sensitive talking on the phone or something. In that way, she'd be a specialized friend, just like all my men friends. But first, I'd have to meet said specialized woman friend.

Derelict rhetoric

Urban sprawl, uptown, NYC

I guess it's possible to read one thing and see anything you want. For goodness sakes, there's a lip gloss song out that's getting serious airplay on the radio (and people are seriously listening). I'm not a professor. I'm not a photographer. I'm not an artist. I'm not a philosopher. I'm not a social scientist. I hope you readers don't take that with you when you leave this page. I write a minute's worth of reading a day with the hope that you there, at your desk job, can get a slice of entertainment during your down time. That way I feel encouraged that you'll visit me tomorrow and the next day. That's also why I post everyday. And with that said... I'll see you tomorrow, no?

"If everybody's a killer, where the fuck is all the punks?"
Joe Budden on Real life in rap

Spoke to the KFC ex-employee of the decade again! Wait a minute. It smells like cat piss in here. Whoops, never mind, it's me. I haven't washed this shirt in weeks. I digress. The KFC ex-employee is calling me. Not that I mind, particularly because she's a good looking woman, but she just made it clear that she wants a guy friend that's nothing more than a friend. Now, that's all good and fine. Except when it comes to me. I have a philosophy on the whole being friends with women thing. If you're reading this, Jenny, you're safe. You're one of the rare exceptions to this philosophy. But my deal is that I've got all the friends I want already. They're called men, and they're way better than most women are in the friends department. They aren't all that sensitive, and they don't linger on the phone. You have specialized men friends that fit several different needs. I have friends for basketball. Then I have another set for drinking. And I have a set for general socializing. And I have another set for miscellaneous crazy shit. With women, they think of themselves as all purpose. And besides that, I tend to usually find the woman friend that only calls when she needs something. Usually it's the "where's that pool hall we went to that time when you said that peanut butter only goes well with dairy products that are sweetened?" needs that I have to bear. Such a tragedy. Moral of the story, my time and effort is being wasted (btw, it was her brother who's married to her sister-in-law and not her who's married to her sister-in-law's brother... in other words, she's not married).

I haven't written a paragraph that long in ages.

Today I'm feeling:

futile

As in resistance is futile. I'm just not going to win. And crackhead's birthday is today. The crackhead in question being my brother, who is an actual crackhead in real life. Just saying, not actually wishing him a happy one or anything retarded like that.

Mo better

My "nigga" John, who is now Maurice, and this random hottie Cathy, who is Korean ironically, are sleeping in my bed. This shit is insane. It feels good to be in my 20's. She bought me three bottles of Heineken to replace the two bottles of Corona that she and Maurice drank and they're both snoring and have to go to work and brunch in a bit. Shit just doesn't get any crazier than this. Go alcohol!

It's over 12 hours later and I've changed my bed linen (just because Maurice is quite nasty and was laying in my bed), and tutored and sat for a couple hours in Union Square Park and spoke on the phone for an hour with my buddy who used to work at the KFC. All on 2 hours sleep. And I'm still charged.

So here's the thing, KFC just isn't finger licking good anymore.

But Feist is!

I'm trying to dig a well. This is my new project. I figure, it'd be really sweet to have a well to run to every time I need some water.

Alright, gotta run, this headache/hangover is beating the shit out of me.

Today I'm feeling:

whooped

Yeah, this is madness... what do you all think of the Feist album? I can't make up my mind. It's only $10. But if you knew how broke I am, you know that $10 is $10. Should I take the deal?