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How about that weather? Part of me is thinking that it is a huge waste of internet paper to write about the weather - but, dang. NYC has been nutty in terms of weather during June. It seems like every day we have had these short yet major thunderstorms. I pulled out the newspaper to see what the rainfall to date totals are, but they are normal. It just seems like there has been a ton of crazy rain. Look at me! I'm blogging on the internets! This is what I have been up to...  Chow Florent Thursday I had lunch at Florent. They closed for good this past weekend. I will miss their hamburgers. *sigh* Holy Shit it's Devo  Thursday night I went to see Devo at McCarren Pool Park in Greenpoint. Dan Deacon and the Tom Tom Club opened up. As a sidenote: I still don't like the Tom Tom Club. Am I missing something?Mrs. Robot was working that night so Rock-el came along and we played the following fun games that you can play in Williamsburg: (1) Drink when you see a guy with a mustache (2) Actually retarded or hipster/faux-retarded Let me say this: Devo rocked the fcking house. I am partial to "Girl you want" - which they tore up (in the good way). They sounded awesome. In fact, I think they sounded infinitely better live than on any of their albums. Sidenote #2: There was this girl in front of us. Probably college-aged. She knew the words to every song. Not only that, she knew every move Mark Mothersbaugh would make during the song. It was like he was a half-second delay of this girl. She had all the moves. NYC. Friday Night. $40 dollar date. Because I am a high-roller and hang out with Vegas showgirls, you can always assume I am out on the town... rolling... highly. This past Friday was no exception. First, my best girl and I took the subway (free metrocard from work) to see the "waterfalls" (free). We strolled past the South Street Seaport where I felt slightly sorry for the tourist families eating at Pizzeria Uno while a band that liked to yell profanity played nearby (free). We ended up at that little ferry terminal where the little ferries depart from (compared to the big terminal where the big ferries depart from) and noticed that the free Ikea ferry (free) was still running. So, we took that. It was after 9pm and cruising across the harbor at that time was uber-beautiful. When we reached Red Hook and pulled into the dock at the Ikea store. They have the cranes from the old dry dock that are all lit up and imposing looking. The grounds are neatly manicured. The building is all metal-y and glass-y. We kept asking each other, "are we really in Red Hook?" (free) That question was answered when we walked down Beard Street towards Van Brunt. Those are some desolate, spooky blocks at night. No, really. They are. Red Hook is really quiet at night - even a Friday. Dragging your best girl down desolate streets at 10pm: Free! We stopped by the Good Fork to see if they had an open table (they didn't) and ended up going to Viva, which is a little lo-fi mexican place on Sullivan. We had tasty tacos. (Tasty tacos + two rounds of margaritas + tip: $40)  Then, because I am a high roller, we caught a bus back to our hood (free). Although of course it dropped us five blocks from our apartment (free). In the Heights Saturday we headed up to Washington Heights for the annual "Serge Day" celebration - i.e. the birthday party for our friend Serge. If you are going up to Washington Heights, the A train stops at some point and you have to get on a shuttle bus to continue your travels. The bus is great as long as you get on the bus that goes up the hill instead of down the hill. Also, if the bus driver (who is a douchebag, BTW) closes the door on your spouse - that is just awesome (I think she said, "You have to let me on this bus - my husband has no idea where we are going"). Mrs. Robot and I are reunited on the bus, except it is the wrong bus and found ourselves headed downhill. That is a problem because: (1) Washington Heights is "mad" hilly (2) The party we were going to was at the very top We didn't realize we were on the wrong bus until too late, so we get off the bus way down in the bowels of Washington Heights and use our robot cell phones to figure out where we are - and then a tsunami rolls in. It was a vengeful rainstorm. Someone was trying to drown us. If you had driven down Broadway at around 187th street, we were the dorky kids huddling under the awning of the bodega on the corner. During this rainstorm, a man pulls up in a van and offers us a ride. (1) That is nice (2) But, I am not getting in your van (3) I am not getting in your van no matter how many times you ask me  We didn't get in the van. The rainstorm was over after ten minutes and we then hiked up the crazy long staircase to the heights of the Heights. It was awesome to arrive at the party sweaty, wet, and late. Woo! At this party, we hate delicious tacos with delicious pork. And some sort of pâté-esque thing made of pork. And I drank a fine glass of German Riesling, a German Pinot Noir (spatburgunder!), an unoaked New Zealand Pinot Noir, a New Zealand Pinot Gris, a New Zealand Riseling, a Loire Valley Sauvignon Blanc, a stinky old Champagne, a ten-year old leathery Australian Shiraz, and an old Cote-Rotie (Syrah + Northern Rhone) that I would marry if one could marry a bottle of wine. (you know, I think that really is the complete list - do I get credit for remembering it all?) It was a grand time. 
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