Sunday, December 27, 2009

Comments: The Gift of Thanks

Merry Christmas, you crazy kids! I hope you all are fat and sassy and you've already figured out what you're regifting to whom. Fans as we wrap up what was to me a rather meek year, I can't help but think how thankful I am for you, my readers. Yes friends, thanks to your clicking on the spam email, reading and reposting, this humble bastion of journalistic integrity has gone from something that weekly shamed my mother to a monthly readership in the thousands! What's that? These thanks are wholly self-serving? You are correct, sir! So I turn the remainder of this post over to you -the commenters- and present a year of comments entirely out of context:

Hector said...

I'm all for cute puppy pix, but for God's sake, don't cut off your puppy's leg and then attach a toilet paper tube to its stump just to get posted on perhaps the best blog in the universe...

Wait, come to think of it...I'm almost out of paper, Skippy..! Here, Skippy....


Hector said...

To add insult to injury, the news found it necessary to show a photo of a burned up feather that came from one of the engines...or a KFC. Not sure which. What's good for the goose is good for the propagander.


Teanna said...

HAHAHAHAH Great, great site Patrick. Going in my Google Reader right about.... now.

sharon said...

I applaud your integrity, now bring on the dick jokes...

Teanna said...

Can't. Stop. Laughing.

The Pirate/Cuban refugee side by side is too good!

rdsmgb said...

Good times! My folks like like 30 min from Spring Lake. I too have fond memories of waterboarding goodness in the Summertime...

Hector said...

I wholeheartedly agree! Keep the belly underwraps. In fact, pregnancy is a great time for women to take side jobs as bank tellers, box office agents or phone sex workers so we don't have to see it.

PS - I love that the Top Topics count on your blog cites as the highest number of hits: Musicals, Titties, Dick and Fart Jokes.

You're my hero! (well, except for the titties...see above.)

megan said...

Kramer...Beth's last name was Kramer. And yes it was a big deal!

rdsmgb said...

ho. ly. crap.

Jimmy Aquino said...


that blingee thing has got to go if you want to be a big boss pimp like me, fool! dont make me send jimmy melfi over there to break the legs of your chair!

great recap and awesome time hanging w/ you out there. we should try that out here in NYC. :) holla.

Hector said...

Wow. You managed to create a photo even Blingee wouldn't allow....amazing!

Emily said...

I found Michael! :)

Hector said...

I like monkeys.

Anonymous said...

I think all of these are true!!!

momasita said...

I am sorry to say, I think all are true! Except maybe about cleaning up your puke.

rdsmgb said...

sadly, i think the only point i am unsure about is your birthplace. i believe all the rest is likely true. most I KNOW is.

Anonymous said...

i think everything is true except the magic show.

TBone Lawson said...

I'll go with wearing purple, from W. Virginia and working janitor. Why didn't you mention the sex-change thing ?

Kate said... has been a while since I have read this blog of yours. However, now that i am here i shall recall Garrigan history that I know and say: purple,pineapple (though most in number two are very close to the truth so it is questionable), and the magic show.

Timothy Dunn of Astoria said...

My favorite parts are the "Timothy Dunn" parts and the Astoria parts.

Elizabeth said...

Patrick: You should write a separate political blog. Your commentary is excellent

Anonymous said...

It's nice to see the kitchen of the compound and to see your family. Damn, I love a little overbite.

Chantal said...

So, the Garrigan Gumption Boxer guy is doing it...right? Just not sure of the starry tie-around. Not sure I could pull that off, even with my hotness.

There you have it. Thank you to all who played with me -and those who left comments, HEY-YO! Don't see your name on here? Well resolve to leave more comments in 2010, and in the meantime click on the friend's names here so their websites get hits, or AdSense dollars or Whore Diamonds. Until next year, I'm Patrick Garrigan. GOOD NIGHT!

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Your Guide to Precipitation

Evidently, there was some precipitation this weekend or something? It's true! Just look!

This past Saturday we experienced Hell Blizzard of Death 2009: Back in the Habit™ and my warm, welcome Upper East Side townhouse / hovel has been transformed to look like this:

Which is nice because Superman has relocated his Fortress of Solitude to my apartment. Which would just be full out awesome if it weren't for the fact that he takes waaay too long in the bathroom. Anyway, what was I talking about?

Oh yeah, snow. As I reflect on the past few weeks, I feel like the full Christmas spirit hasn't been wholly embraced by New Yorkers. In fact, some people have just been cold hatin' on Christmas. What gives?

For the longest time, I thought that was due to the fact that there had been only minimal snow. Then when the snow finally comes, everyone's on the express train to Complainytown! [Editorial: incedentially the express train to Complainytown does have a bar car, so that's nice.]

I'm The Problem Solver, I solve problems. With that in mind, I feel like it might be helpful if I teach you the tools to survive the Wintry White Stuff in a little segment I like to call, "Your Guide to Precipitation."

A lot of people are stupid. Who knows, you may even be stupid too! You really should have applied yourself a little more in school and not huffed so much glue -but alas, this is where we find ourselves today, and I'm here to help you, you mental midgets of the world. How will I do this? I'm glad you asked. I'm going to take you through some common snowy issues and provide you with some tools to overcome these climate complications.

Preemptive Precipitation Panic Attack

Gather round, I'mma gonna let you in on a wittle secret. It's snowed before, it will snow again, we're gonna be just fine.

Of all the forms of weather, I gotta say I'm least scared of the snow. It is the only weather that when it happens instead of your shit getting blown to skitter or flooded, it actually provides you with shelter! Yes! Worst case scenario, igloos. So rather than freaking out, take comfort in the fact that you could live in a bitching ice house, which is probably nicer than the shithole you live in now, anyways. Relish in this friends. Please don't panic, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. It just means that you can add that guest room to your icy palace.

It's Such A Pain to Get Around In

Another common snow-related complaint: it's hard to get around in. False. It is in fact not hard to get around in at all. Here's alls ya gotta do. Bundle up 'n go! It's actually really easy to get around in. Unlike the summer where you can only take off so much clothing before you find yourself with an indecent exposure ticket, in these wintry months put on as many layers as ye may! You look so much better layered anyway, friends. It covers up the fact that you've eaten far too many cookies.

This is a double-edged sword however. Don't go too far. For instance, and I can't stress this enough, YOU DO NOT NEED AN UMBRELLA. New Yorkers have no idea how to behave with an umbrella in the rain, add some snow -complete fucking idiots. You just don't need it. They're snowflakes, nature's art project. Let them fall and dissipate into nothing, you umbrella-carrying dolt!

A note about footwear. I love shoes. I really do. When the snow comes, some of your prettier cobbler creations may have to go on vacation for a few months or at the very least live in a bag until you reach your destination. It will be snowy. It will be cold. It will be slushy. Plan accordingly. I can not tell you how many times I've had to stand in the middle of the street while I wait for some fucktard to figure out what best way to ford a slushy creek. It's snowing outside, plan ahead! Winter boots and trendy galoshes are both fashionable and functional, so get into 'em.

Leave the Driving to Us
We know from our drivers education classes that one should leave (1) car length for every 10mph that one drives, yes? Yes. I get that we are a nation of go, go, go -I dig. But unlike the puritanical use of the 10 and 2 mentality, the distance thing is a good idea. Especially when there are 3 - 4 inches of snow on the ground, you chuckleheads!

I love seeing snow related slippery slidey accidents into ditches. Because I will bet you 9 times out of 10 the person was just being a jerk, had to slam on their brakes and ended up where they belong. In the gutter. Too harsh? Maybe. People, the snow is slippery. You are operating a several thousand pound vehicle that moves faster than you can run without even trying. If you can't control its stopping and slowing well then perhaps you're not doing it very well.

Do You Believe the State of the Airlines These Days?

I get that it's Christmas time, that you're incredibly important (please, no one gets that better than me), and that you paid a lot for these aeroplane tickets. Sad reality is friend, no matter how important you are, the snow falls from the sky which is inconveniently the same place that your mode of transport travels.

Another fun fact: it's real cold up there. This makes it hard for the moving pieces that make your plane soar from whatever depressing location to are escaping from to whatever depressing location you are going to.

Good rule of thumb, if you're traveling around the holidays your shit's gonna be delayed. Yup. So rather than get huffy and post angry Facebook updates about how you hate Delta/American Airlines/JetBlue/US Airways/Contintentail et al. go buy a book you've been meaning to read, go have a beer at the bar, and take comfort in the fact that these fine air travel professionals want your ass gone much more than you do.

...aaaand there you have it! Now, for the love of baby Jebus, can we please enjoy this lovely snowy Christmas? Thank you.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

200th Post: The Gift of Knowledge

Once in a millennium comes a writer as prolific as myself, and for joy I've brought your life, all gifts can be sent to CCXXIV East LXXXVIth Street, ID New York, NY. Attn: Gift for Brightening My Life.

Friends, according to my trusty-ish Blogger dashboard this is evidently my 200th post!!! So that's exciting, right? As is our Christian Christmas tradition, while I await your gift arriving in the mail, I used this weekend to come up with a gift for you:

What is it? What is it? I hear you squeal like a pig. Well, it's not Dita Von Teese on a big green box -that's for me. What I got you is something much more useful. The gift of Knowledge.

The Back-story of Your Gift

True Story: Last week as I made my way to work, I was peacefully reading my book, "Tantric Gardening". The train pulled into the 59th Street Station, and the train was suddenly filled with a flux of Midtown-bound commuters. As I raised my head to see who all had entered, I found myself nose to nose with a lady in leggings. More more accurately, given my seated position and her standing position I found myself nose to engorged fupa. Horrified I reimursed myself in my book as I waited for the (3) stops to go by and I would be delivered from this horror.

I was terroized, victimized and most importantly angry. How dare she thrust her extra skin into my face with only a thin swath of black cotton/spandex blend serving to hold this fleshy flood at bay. Then it hit me. She just doesn't know better. This prompted me to tweet on my Twitter, "Look ladies, I'm all for the leggings as pants thing, but let's take a hard look at yourself before deciding your degree of participation."

Which brings me to your gift:

Greatness with Garrigan Gumption Guide to Leggings - Signs You're Doing It Wrong

So, like, sure. I could tell you all the cool, sexy, hip ways to wear leggings but as I was once told by one of our nation's finest musicians, I'm "a very negative person." With that in mind rather than pick out your clothes like Herbert from 4th grade's mom, I will instead give you all the signs you're wearing your leggings improperly.

If you are 50+, on a dock, sitting on a coral towel with a Frederick's of Hollywood thong'd Santa outfit over your leggings you're doing it wrong.

If when you put your leggings on and you look like you're smuggling throw pillows out of Pier 1 Imports, you're doing it wrong.

If you are a lumpy, mistachioed squire, you need to get out of your parents basement aaaand you're doing it wrong.

If your leggings look like those colorful Elementary school era chips they used to toss on throw-up, you're doing it wrong.

If you don your leggings and Grandmother's coat and make your paper delivery boy / best friend take pictures of you in your depressing back yard, you're doing it wrong.

If you're leggings look like the ones above there's good news and there's bad news. Good news: you're doing it right; bad news: you're a prostitute. Sorry about that. If only you'd had a more positive male role model. Alas...

Greatness with Garrigan Gumption Guide to Leggings - Signs You're Doing It Right

If you're Megan Fox, you're doing it right.

There you go. Knowledge is Power, so best of luck with your leggings and your overthrow of the government! Hooray!

GWGG Special Thanks:

As we mentioned last week, the team here at GWGG is collecting coats for the New York Cares Coat drive. The response so far has been great. A very special thanks to Gumptioneers Hector, Billy and Jonathan for their contributions so far! It is greatly appreciated!!!

There's still time! If you live in the (5) boroughs of NYC and have a new or gently used winter coat that you would like to contribute, please drop me a line @ and I will be happy to make arrangements to swing by and pick those up from you!

Thanks and happy holidays!

Sunday, December 06, 2009

Dept of Shameless Self-Promotion: 'Tis the Season

'Tis the Season...for sorta self-serving self-promotion!

Merry Christmas everyone. I would like to start the holiday season by telling you what I want for Christmas.

#1.Flip Camera (for porn)
#2.Wife beaters (for beating my wife)
#3.Iron skillet (for beating my wife)
#4.Stationery (for correspondence with foreign dignitaries)
#5.Sheepskin slippers (for porn)

Yes my friends as you can see from my wish list between porn, beating wives and correspondence with foreign dignitaries, I've really honed in a rather narrow focus.

However, when I'm not doing one of these (3) things I've been doing a little bit of writing beyond this here blog. One of those lil' projects is a new short play entitled, "Measured, Objective Reporting". Wouldn't you know it, this inking was picked up to be staged by the bantam theatrical outfit, Dalliance Theatre Company as part of their Virgin Plays series.

Well, as you might imagine the production overhead for such an undertaking is HUGE! What with the chandelier that drops at the end of the first act, the Swarovski crystal encrusted costumes and the cast of thousands -the costs start to add up, PAL! As a result, Dalliance is throwing a big partay, "Not So Silent Night" THIS WEDNESDAY to score some holiday scratch! What's that? You wanna go? Tut, tut my pretties. Here's the info!

On Wednesday, December 9th, Dalliance Theater welcomes Barnaby Bright, Zelazowa, Drew Gasparini and Kelli Firth to Not-So-Silent Night, a night of music and merriment at the Mean Fiddler in Times Square!

Tickets are only $10 at the door! Ring in the holidays with amazing drink specials ($4 domestic and $5 imported, well drinks and shots!), great music and great friends! Plus an amazing raffle, where you can win theater tickets, gift bundles and much more!

All proceeds benefit Dalliance and our upcoming production of Virgin Plays.

Doors open at 7:30 and the concert starts at 8:00. Downstairs at the Mean Fiddle (266 W. 47th, btwn B'way and 8th Ave).

So that's the skinny about that. Among the prizes available will be an autographed copy of my book, "No I Wasn't Checking Out Your Rack" "Guerrilla Marketing for Dummies" which makes a great holiday gift during this or any recession! Please come or I will have to drink / cry alone, or as I like to call it -Wednesday.


In other news...

Every year for (1) month, I decide to be less of an asshole and use some of my powers for good instead of evil. With that in mind, we at GWGG will once again be participating in the 21st Annual New York Cares Coat Drive.

So if you live in the (5) boroughs of NYC and have a new or gently used winter coat that you would like to contribute, please drop me a line @ and I will be happy to make arrangements to swing by and pick those up from you!


And lastly...

Did you ever wish you toured with an ultra cool "rock band" bangin' skanks on the road and then writing songs about bangin' skanks which garners you more skanks in a seemingly endless cycle of skank-bangery? Well, you can't because you can't play the guitar and have a bad haircut. Luckily, friend of Greatness, Colin Donnell, has both and will share those tunes with you now. Enjoy?

Just scrumptious, riiiight? As if that wasn't enough, he's also literate. You can enjoy his command of the alphabet at his sparkly new blog, Donnellog.


Well friends, that's it for next week. Enjoy the sights and smells of the season. Who knows, there may even be a holiday pictorial on the horizon.... A true Christmas Miracle.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Coming To The Food Network This Fall

Happy Thanksgiving you fat bastards!

What did you do over your Thanksgiving? I don't really care, I just understand that's how normal humans interact before talking about themselves, and so that is what I'm doing right here. ....and ....I'm ....done. Back to me.

While you were busy filling your already constricted arteries with transfat, cholesterol and Indian tears, I was working.

That's right, I know you're shocked that I would be toiling over the holiday, but zip it mouth-breather. I was working on a new show (yet to be purchased / shown any interest by) The Food Network entitled, Cooking with Lisa.

Here's the deal: charismatic young gentleman cooks with his crotchety, yet warm-hearted sister. Ethos, pathos and IBS-generated complications ensue.

What's that? You want to read the treatment? Pshaw! Screw treatments -you ready to get your mind blown? Here are the first (4) episodes. Check it.

Cooking with Lisa

Easy TV executives, slow down, you're jamming up my Sprint 4G Network. You wanna talk to me you must go through proper channels.

Till next week, I'm Patrick Garrigan -and I'mma gonna be rich!

THIS JUST IN: Befuddled deep frier / Food Network Star, Paula Deen has been replaced by me. That's right. I'm taking her time-slot...

...and that ham.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

You Want A Miracle on 34th Street?

It will be a miracle Santa doesn't die of Swine Flu.

Haul out the holly -it may not even be Thanksgiving yet- but as I made my way down 5th Avenue this weekend, it appears we need a little Christmas right this very fucking minute! Driven by our insatiable need for holiday Americana, we send New York's Jolliest on the front lines of biological terror: disease-ridden children.

Let me be perfectly clear, I hold no special place in my heart for Santa. I mean sure, he looks great on Christmas cards and those creepily awesome '60's claymation movies, but when you really break it down, he's only a hop, skip and a jump away from clowns, and we all know how I feel about that.

That said, The Sacramento Bee (which can't really be the name of the paper, can it?) is reporting that this year Santa's everywhere are worried about getting ye ole swine flu, and want to get an early dose of H1N1 vaccination. The story has lots of quotes and facts and stuff, but the gist of it is that the Santa's aren't eligible for early vaccination because they aren't babies, aren't old enough, and don't generally don't have pre-existing medical conditions, as self-loathing doesn't count. The Catch 22 of this situation however, is that generally Santa's are fat fuckers who can grow to be as large as 700 pounds in some Midwestern states. Being this overweight makes them highly susceptible to the disease. Unfortunately for Kris Kringle, that doesn't fall under the realm of a medical condition, and more often puts Santa in the gross slob column.

So what is Santa to do? All it takes is one buggery, sneezey, wheezy, sticky Santophile to come over and give the 'ol Cookie Eater a tug on the love handles and suddenly, just like a pathogenic Oprah, "You Get A Swine Flu! You Get A Swine Flu! You Get A Swine Flu!"

Desperate times call for desperate measures:

"Update" The Lore of Santa

Naughty or Nice? For far too long, children have been coddled by Santa. It's time that we bring Santa into modernity by creating Santa The Decider. Rather than sitting on Santa's lap, each child will be given the opportunity approach the bench and make the case as to whether they had been naughty or nice that year. Those who make a convincing case to Santa will be rewarded by having all their Christmas wishes come true. Those deemed unconvincing and/or incoherent will be found naughty, awarded nothing and must return to the mall at a later date for sentencing.

This is a really good idea on two levels. First and most important, it keeps Santa out of range of those contaminated kids. Secondly, let's be honest, it's usually the most sucky kids who get all the cool toys. This serves to create a true holiday meritocracy.

Santa Scrubs!

I can hear you all now, "don't change the story of Santa, I love him and the holiday wonder he provides." Well, fine, but just know no one likes you. If you insist on letting your kids touch Santa, which is creepy in its own right, might I suggest some attire updates for your children to wear? Updates like my new patented Santa Scrubs!

This new technology encases your children in plastic and denies any outlet for mucus membranes to escape from your bacteria hosts or kids or whatever they're called these days. Oh sure, maybe there are some "suffocation issues" in putting a kid in a kitchen garbage bag, but who's life is more important Santa's or your kid's? C'mon people, it's Christmas, think of someone other than yourself for once!

Zero-tolerance Parental Caning

As we know, I'm big on personal responsibility -especially when it comes to parenting. So here's how this thing works. If one of you chucklehead parents bring your visibly diseased kids over to visit Santa, a cheery 4' tall elf will approach you and invite you to an "exclusive" tour of Santa's workshop. Since you are a dipshit you will be flattered by the invitation and accept. Once inside the workshop, you will be tackled by (20) elves amp'd up on meth and then forcibly caned. Happy Holidays!

Sound too drastic? Fine, but just remember when 25 December arrives at your house, and your child rushes downstairs to unwrap it's totally undeserved Zhu Zhu Pet; remember poor 'ol Santa, 'cause the only thing he'll be opening is the toilet to deliver another round of pukey-poopy holiday cheer. He's only Kris Kringle, the King of Jingling, for khrissake!

Mall Santas say H1N1 flu risks warrant early vaccinations [The Sacramento Bee]

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Something From the Spank Bank


..and MSNBC, as always, with the objective save:

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Mad Men, Why?

Ladies and gentlemen! Ladies and gentlemen! Quiet down! Quiet down. Could I have your attention please?! Dear cast of Mad Men, thank you for -wait a gosh darn minute! You're not the cast of Mad Men! You're fat, awkward people. Get the hell out.

There you are! Cast of Mad Men, thank you so much for coming in on such short notice. I wanted to talk to you about something that is very troubling to me. The end of this season.

I gotta say, you guys, I really wasn't sure how this season was going to go. I mean you know I love you but the Salvatore bellboy hanky panky and the limeys descending on Sterling Cooper just seemed a bit desperate. You know, like 6 Feet Under there towards the end.

Then, you moved on to follow Peggy's coming of age, ugh... No offense Peggy- but your pouty I'm-a- big -girl -with -a -lot- to- contribute- why- doesn't -anyone -take- me -seriously- routine grew quickly tiresome. Yes Mad Men, I was beginning to wonder if perhaps you'd crested, perhaps you'd cow tow'd to the temptation of being stylish without making people think like you had done so successfully in Seasons 1 and 2. You were mine; were you suddenly dumming down? No, you were just warming up.

Listen, I'm probably going to type up this conversation I'm having with you right now and post it on my wildly popular blog so I'm not going to regale how wonderful this season ended up being to my loyal fans who have not yet watched this delectable piece of art, but I am going to ask you one question:

What the hell am I going to do until Season 4?

Well? That wasn't rhetorical (for once).

Okay, I'll get down off this chair so we can talk to each other eye to eye, and you don't have to keep looking up. Like equals.

Guys, I'm serious here. Do you know how long I waited for Season 3? I waited from like April of 2005 to August of 2009 or something, I'm a little fuzzy on the timing but I think that's right. Then to go from being so nonplussed to so filled with anxiety as I watched The Gypsy & the Hobo agape as "Where is Love" from Oliver played lightly over the closing credits. Who the hell do you think you are? You can't just toy with my emotions and leave me with the rest of the year and beginning of next to sit on my brains. What am I supposed to do till then -read a book? Don't make me laugh. You have a responsibility to me, you have a responsibility to this FAMILY!

Well, well, well. Mr. Draper. So cool and collected. You've been awful quiet. You bear much responsibility in this. Going from man with nothing to lose, on top of the world to desperate patsy who just wants to stop looking like an asshole. What have you to say for yourself? Nothing? Just a toss of the hands? How typical...


What am I supposed to do? I don't mean to sound so pathetic or exaperated, but you can't just do (13) episodes and go on vacation!? Do you know what would happen to me if I only worked for (13) days and went on vacation for (6) months? I would get sacked you know like, oh I don't know, Kater Gordon.


Oh, God why? [insert heaving sobs]

Please leave me. Please. Everyone just go. Everyone except you, Joan.

Yes, you. You stay.

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

Media Watch: Beginning of the Republican Rebirth?

Chris Christie's not fat, he's just full (of new ideas). The pundits have spoken, this is the beginning of the Republican Rebirth.

Oooh Gumptioneers, my taint is all a tingle. It's election night, and I'm glued to the punditry of NY1, CNN and FOX. Oh sure, it's not a sexy election night. There's not an attractive, articulate black fellow going up against a likable Frankenstein and his foxy race-baiting henchwoman. It's not like that at all. It's more like this:
But Patrick what does it all mean???


I gotta tell ya, while GWGG wholeheartedly endorsed Mr. Obama I knew this whole thing would happen. I did, I like totally did. Cause here's the deal, as Americans we are fabulously impatient. Which is why I. Love. This. Land. While it felt good to be all kumbaiya back in January, it never takes long before we get itchy. We like our Jamba Juice now. We like our dry cleaning now. We like our awkward gay "furry" porn now. ..and I'll give it to you, now.

Furry porn aside, people look around and they see bailouts for big companies, the threat of raised taxes, and continued unemployment. With this dreary climate, Americans ask, "hey, where's all that delicious HOPEY CHANGE we were promised," and seek to cause a little change themselves by forwarding on strongly worded emails about the demise of our country, and maybe by voting, you know if there's nothing good on the teevee.

This frustration is, no doubt, the most overt signal of the rebirth of the Republican Party, right? Prolly, I don't know.

While I sit here watching the returns and assorted gray haired talking heads, I can't help but think, "What is Rush Limbaugh eating right now?" "How will this affect Sarah Palin's lipstick color palate?" "Will Rachel Maddow play Eddie in a production of "Rocky Horror Picture Show" I'm staging in my basement?"

Why am I considering these things, and not the heft of this earth-shattering election, you ask? Because there is no story here! This is the same thing that happened to the Dems after Clinton got elected, then to the Cons when W. got elected and now to America's First Black President™. For the Democratic losses listed above the candidates kinda sucked and/or weren't given any of that shiny Obama clout. Just left to twist, a casualty of war. Another case of history repeating, and a great opportunity to post a furry picture.

You can now go to bed, good children.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Wanted: Perfect Apartment

Wildly attractive, charismatic M seeks 2 - 3 BR Apt; details below:

As some of you may recall a few months shy of a year ago, I moved from Astoria, Queens to the Upper East Side after running away like a little girl valiantly fighting off robbers and drug dealers. Well, since that time, I have found the Upper East Side, how you say, ahhh yes: shitty.

The problem isn't one particular thing, rather an amalgamation of several elements that has made my time here unpleasant. A pinch of Daddy-funded 'Dolce, with a healthy helping of hedge fund hands, and a pile on peoples with a propensity for popped collars. This is a sampling of my daily life on the UES.

It isn't just the neighborhood, its also the apartment. I currently reside in a split level (2) bedroom with a spiral staircase. Awesome right? Not so much. You see I actually live in the lower level of this bi-level apartment -also known as a basement. Not just any basement, a basement without windows. Given that I live in what amounts to a blackout room, I really have no idea what time of day it is and as a result spend much of my day thinking that I've either just come out of a long sleep or should get ready for another. Why even now I sit on my disgustingly stained couch in a groggy daze, unsure of where I am or why this laptop is gently heating up my genitals.

The other problem with living in a windowless room is that all of my wet articles quickly develop mildew and mold. This has it's pluses and minuses. For instance, all my towels smell like ass, but I've been able to cure (4) separate bouts of gonorrhea all by myself like a big boy!

I can hear you now, "blah, blah, blah, complain, complain, complain, but what are you doing about it?" I'll tell you what I'm doing about it! In the words of my life coach, Timothy Dunn, "I'm going to Secret the shit out of it." I'm going to start by creating a want ad to put out into the Universe. A want ad I will share with you now.


Do you want to rent me an apartment? You bet your ass you do.

Wildly charismatic, highly verbal, physically fit young professional seeks an apartment that is "the shit" -much like himself.

I'm accustomed to the finer things in life: caviar, fine wine and fine women. I expect nothing less in my domicile.

Currently seeking apartments in the following neighborhoods: the Upper West Side, Hell's Kitchen, Union Square, and Astoria (cause hey, sometimes we all like to go slumming, am I right, fellas?) Neighborhoods that are on the undesirable list: Upper East Side, anywhere north of 86th Street (or as I like to call it, Lower Bronx) , and Battery Park.

Building must have (24) hour fitness facilities -my body is my temple - and nutritionist on staff. Other must-have amenities include: in-apartment washer / dryer, skylights, hardwood floors, marble countertops, mirrors on all ceilings, bidet, glass shower for sexytime, and at least 1500 sq. ft. to accommodate my (4) Great Danes, Harold, Maude, Benny & Joon; and Cockapoo, Derek.

Open to roommates, but must be female and must have succ'lent tittays -we're talkin' motorboat or bust, ya dig? Also, all roommates must be comfortable doing household chores because I'm sure as shit not going to do them. Interested persons should reply with bodyshot, measurements, and answers from Playboy centerfold questionnaire.

Move in date is March 1, 2010. Also seeking movers who I will promise beer, pizza and good times, and then promptly reneg on once my valuable furniture has been placed.

Serious inquiries only. Look forward to you getting to meet me, and placing me in the apartment I so rightly deserve.

So, you know, if you hear of something opening up in your building or whatever let me know. Thanks, pal.


Num, num, num, num, num, num

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Anger Management Institute

Do you get angry?

Of course you do! We all do. We're only human.

You may view me as a cool, calm and collected cat, but I wasn't always like that. No, I used to be just like you, ANGRY. I would kick kittens, punch holes in walls and ferociously fart in crowded elevators. But that was all before I founded the GWGG Anger Management Institute!

With my new 6-step program, 'GRRRR' BE GONE: Progressing from Pissed to Pleased, you'll learn tactics to control your anger and discover the inner peace you've been seeking. So let's put out that fire that's ragin' in your hair and get started, okay? OK!

Identify the source of your anger
I used to get angry a lot, and then someone would call me or I'd want a snack and I'd forget what upset me in the first place! To avoid this problem, I began to name the things that bothered me by writing who/what it was that had pissed me off on a post-it note alongside the offense and placed it on the person or thing itself. This way when I saw it again, I could remember and deal with it accordingly (ie. kick to shins, freeze bank accounts, etc.).

Find fun in your cell phone
Do you find that the people who make you mad call you on your cellular telephone? "Grumble, grumble. That's no fun!"

Name thy pain! Why just this weekend I added the moniker, "Satan Spawn Whoreface." I gotta tell you, every time it pops up on my phone I giggle and giggle, promptly hit "ignore" and watch another episode of 'COPS.'

Enjoy a cocktail
You've had a hard day and you are ANGRY. Come quitting time, don't stay angry -unwind with a cocktail! Still angry? Baybreeze. A little residual anger? Long Island Iced Tea. A hint of fire in your belly? Battery acid. Pretty soon you'll have forgotten what you were so angry about in the first place. Right David? Of course right.

Find a creative outlet

Often, we overlook the fact that our anger comes from the frustration of not being able to successfully communicate with another person(s). When this is the case, turn to your creative skills, whatever they may be. For instance, I'm really, really, really good at writing poetry and so that's how I work to express myself. Here, let me show you what I mean:

A Poem By Patrick Garrigan

Sometimes when you share your opinion I find nothing useful
Sometimes when I see your face I want to put my fist
Sometimes when a mouse trap closes, I picture it is not a mouse, but you

Sometimes I look at my life and do not like that you are

Hate fuckin'

Never forget to laugh
As I've often mentioned, there's so much more that connects us than divides us. With that in mind, why not use comedy as the unifying force? Say you and a co-worker are butting heads. Rather than letting things boil over, try to figure out a way to share a laugh.

Some thought starters: Maybe an elaborate kidnapping "prank" where they're the abductee and they live hogtied in your garage until their family forks over $4 million dollars in unmarked bills, or maybe make them slip on a banana peel. You know, something hysterical like that. Nothing brings people together like the power of laughter.

Throw your caps up in the air friends! You've graduated from the GWGG Anger Management Institute! Don't you feel better? Thought so. Make it a great week, and remember: It's not you, it's them.

Monday, October 05, 2009

Patti & Curtis Made This Blog Late

Do you want to read a blog? Well you can't. Patti Murin & Curtis Holbrook just haaaaad to get married and I just haaaad to go up to gorgeous Lake George. So because I haaad to share in this joyous occassion, the blog is delayed. So thanks Patti & Curtis. Thanks a lot. No really, thanks.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

To Tell the Truth

And now let's meet our next team of challengers. What is your name, please?

My name is Patrick Garrigan

My name is Patrick Garrigan

My name is Patrick Garrigan

Ladies and gentlemen, today I provide you with the unique opportunity. So often, my public will approach me, usually while I'm enjoying Korean BBQ, and ask me, "Patrick, are all those shenanigans you write about really true? Is your life really that crazy?" To which I reply, "get me some more napkins."

The answer to that question is yes and no. You see, I like to spin a yarn. It really goes back to my great great grandfather the famous vaudevillian, Gerry Sean Francis McGillicuty O'Brien Neeson Garrigan. Oh, how he'd love to tell tales, if he were my great great grandfather, which he's not, so sorry I lied to you about that. The fact of the matter is, I don't even know what is true any more...

What I've decided to do today is provide you with what I think is probably the truth for once, sort of. But with a twist!

In the grand spirit of "To Tell the Truth" I will bang the cadaver of Kitty Carlisle Hart in her dressing room I will tell you (3) tales of truths about me. Which is true? If you guess correctly you will receive a prize or something. Sound like fun? Let's do it anyway.

  • In high school I popped my zits and kept the contents behind the mirror
  • One year I only wore purple because I thought it was regal
  • When I puke from drinking, I make it a point to meticulously clean the area I puked while drunk
  • I was born in West Virginia, I (currently) have all of my teeth
  • I love pineapple and not just be cause it makes one's "hospitality" sweeter
  • I have blamed my farts on a dog within the past (48) hours

  • Someone seriously threatened to slap me this week
  • My favorite job to date was working as a janitor
  • Used to perform a David Copperfield-esque magic show; favorite trick: making a dog / my heterosexuality disappear
Which one is correct? You tell me by clicking on comments! The seeker of Greatness who guesses correctly will win a BIG PRIZE! Yay! Its so fun to think of you thinking of me! May the best Patrickophile win!


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