Here we are, but instead of a Papaya Dog sign, there's burger signs everywhere. At least it's still here, in what appears to be an unchanged form. Let's take a closer look.
Inside it looks the same. Let's slowly move in closer.
Here's a familiar face, when asked if this was still a Papaya Dog, despite all the nasty burger signage, he just threw his hands up in the air. At least the familiar beer taps are still here.
There's the familiar Papaya dogs sizzling away.
Fuck it, there's a Papaya Dog on his shirt, I say it's still a Papaya Dog and my original Fortress of Solitude lives on!
Aaahh, home sweet home.
Gumby's all settled in, but there's a shitload of noise coming from the back.
It's filled with drunken idiots whom I assume are here for New Years Eve at Times Square. They're louder thand fuck and really obnoxious.
Fuck, this is a Fortress of Solitude people! I'm out of here! I can't wait till January 2nd!
At least on my way out I saw that the original Papaya sign is still hanging on, just like the Vanilla Fudge. I shall return.
Okay, here we are at Penn Station and the place I made mention of that supposedly has morphed into something different is none other than my own personal Fortress of Solitude, The Papaya Dog in Penn Station. I've heard from a source who's on deep background that the Papaya Dog is now some sort of hamburger stand. This is quite troubling and upsetting news. For over a year, this has been my personal sanctuary to retreat to when the going has gotten tough. A shelter for Gumby and I to reflect and drink giant glasses of beer for four dollars. And now all that may be gone. We'll find out soon.
Penn Station is packed with tourists in town for New Year's Eve tomorrow. God I can't wait for January 2nd!
Okay, here we are on the second escalator down. Look away from that man's chrome dome or risk retina burn.
As we approach, my mind is flooded with questions. What if there's no more Papaya Dog in Penn Station? Will my old friends still be working there? Will there be beer? And of course the most pressing question...
Why is Pippa undateable? And who the hell is Pippa anyway? Stay tuned for the answers.
Yesterday, Gene from the BBC, left this comment: “I miss the Fortress of Solitude that the Papaya is...” It made me realize I hadn’t been there in quite some time. It’s a good night to go, it’s Friday, it’s unseasonably cold outside (it’s supposed to snow on Saturday, to quote Gene again: UFB!) and it’s a perfect night to chill out at the Fortress of Solitude. This one’s for you Gene, so don’t blame me, Al! (I put a Neil Young song up as a consolation prize for Al!)
And we're off, just a short walk to Penn Station. It's not as cold as last night and no rain, which is a relief. However tomorrow it's supposed to go down to freezing temperatures and mixed rain and snow. I may have to bust out my winter coat for Cheeseburger Saturday Night!
Since we were just here last night, I thought I'd use a different entrance, so we have a little variety in the pictures.
Nice to see this fellow standing stationary on the escalator. Maybe people are finally learning, but I doubt it.
Hudson News, I think I'll stop and get a magazine to read at the Fortress of Solitude.
It's a crowded night here with people coming and going and standing around.
Wow, the Powerball is over 200 million!
If there's no post tomorrow, you'll know these numbers came up and I threw my computer out the window.
The Papaya sign is covered up with a banner, that kind of sucks.
I was a little afraid they took the Papaya Dog sign down, but here it is, behind the banner.
And here's our friend behind the counter, getting ready to serve up the ususal...
Giganzo beer and a hotdog with mustard (apologies to Britta and Kari, but I gotta go with mustard on the dog!)
Gumby's all settled in.
Here's the view from where I sit. I've already wolfed the dog down, so let's enjoy the magazine and the beer.
I got a copy of Life & Style. The cover story was about Demi Moore starving herself. Her arms aren't quite as scary as Madonna's, but they're getting there. The headline reads: "Starving To Keep Her Man." Personally I would've gone with: "Moore Is Less," but what do I know?
I'm amazed, I got all the way to page six before running into a photo of one of the Kardashians. The weekly magazines are obsessed with them. In fact I'm going to flip through and see how many photos there are of each Kardashian in this issue. Give me a couple minutes here. (Time goes by.) Okay, I'm back and here's the official Kardashian Kountdown: There's five pictures each of Kim and Khloe and Kourtney has four. So, there!
Here's a subscription ad with a cover from a week ago. Within the cover line a confused Kim Kardashian asks: "What Have I Done?" Well, Kim, from what I can see you've turned your massive tits and ass into a multimillion dollar corporation, but outside of that, you really haven't done a whole hell of a lot. Anyway, you go girl! And keep on going...a little farther, okay, don't let the door smack that giant-million dollar ass of yours on the way out. Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.
Further reading: MAD, Time Out New York and 365 Bars (I forgot I went there on the bar crawl, it came up on a Google search!)
After seeing the pop up photo of William Shatner in yesterday's post, The Duncester found a photo of Kurt Russell as Jack Burton in the 1986 movie, "Big Trouble in Little China." Beautiful "Separated At Birth" moment, Duncester, thanks for sending it in!
So it was my first night back at work and I may as well start whining about it. I had to go in at 10 :00 AM and now it’s closing in on 10:00 PM and I have to go back in early again tomorrow. Ugh. So I thought I’d take it easy and do a little bit of wandering. But wander to where? That is the question...and here’s the answer: The Waverly Diner. Jeremiah Moss recently ran a post about the renovation that’s been going on there, you can read that post here: Waverly Diner.
The renovations started last summer, I would think they’d be close to finishing by now. I thought we’d go, take a look and if it’s still closed we’ll grab a beer at the Washington Square Diner, another great old school diner that’s close by.
It's a nice night out, so I thought we'd just walk there, it's a straight shot down 6th Avenue.
Pumpkins in this store front window are a reminder that Halloween is on the way. Fuck, where did the summer go?
And here we are. Boy is this a sad sight. They stripped the neon sign off the front wall. I wonder if it's coming back.
This is how it looked last July.
The neon sign is still hanging, but the lights are out. I'm wondering if they're ever going to light up again.
The neon lights on the side of the building remain, but they too are unlit. This corner used to look so festive and now it's just dead.
I second that emotion.
How true. This is too depressing, let's go to the Washington Square Diner, hopefully they haven't turned it into a Sizzler.
Thankfully, it's still here, in all it's lit up glory. A classic, New York, open all night diner.
There's lots of comfortable booths to sit at in here.
But I thought I'd sit at the marble-topped counter in the back.
Wrapped up pastries line the edge of the counter.
And coffee and hot chocolate machines stand at attention behind it.
And the first beer of the evening is poured by this friendly gentleman behind the counter.
Some cakes are chilling in this refrigerated case.
I ordered a bagel and it looks like it's up and ready. Ding, ding, ding.
And Dyson serves it up with another beer.
A beer and a bagel, the breakfast of champions. Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.
The Washington Square Diner Let’s hope they never renovate the Washington Square Diner. The place is a Greek diner, but that’s where the tragedy ends. Inside the walls are lined with spacious booths, covered in purplish/red vinyl. There’s a coffee counter to sit at in the back and single booths are lined up in the middle of the diner for those that just want to hunker down with a newspaper and a bottomless cup of coffee.
The menu is beyond huge. Here’s just a sampling of some of the entries: Lumberjack Belgian Waffles, served with two eggs, bacon, ham and sausage (take that IHOP!); Brisket of Beef open faced sandwich; Linguine With Clam Sauce; Southern Fried Chicken; fourteen varieties of omelettes and seventeen styles of burgers.
Washington Square Diner is open 24 hours, 365 days a year. And they have beer and wine. Stop by and support a great old-school New York diner.
Fellow EV Grieve reader and contributer, Tom, sent in these photos of the Papaya Dog on 14th Street at night. Nice shots, Tom! Thanks for sending them in! Sorry, Al!
Okay, I had to work late and I’m pretty fucking beat. Since I didn’t go anywhere last night, I figure I should make some sort of an effort to go somewhere tonight. But it’s after one in the morning and I’m fucking tired...I think you know where this is leading, sorry to ruin your Saturday, Al, but it must be done. Oh I’m also going to scan in the “16 Beers” article and I’ll put it below tonight’s photos. I don’t know if you’ll be able to read it, but we shall see. New York and the rest of most of the country has been one big stinking steam bath, I'm hoping its cooled down a bit, let's go see.
Holy shitballs, it's hotter than a sack of stolen diamonds shoved up Satan's asshole out here! Let's get to some air conditioning pronto!
And here we are, the oasis of Penn Station. I hope it's cool in there.
And here's some jackass pushing everyone out of his way as walks down the escalator. And there's stairs about two inches away. But at least this way we get a lovely look at his bald patch he's trying to hide with his dread locks. Lovely!
Bonus "16 Beers in 16 Bars in 16 Hours" Time Out New York Story!
Yesterday a few people said they'd like to see this story, so I scanned it in. If you squint real hard and put on a pair of magnifying glasses, you just might be able to read it.
--------------------------
R.I.P. Amy Winehouse
I slept in today and just found out she died. Say what you will about her personal life, she was a great singer, songwriter and musician.
Okay, I’m still hungover from yesterday at Mars Bar kind of tired tonight and don’t really feel like doing anything for tonight’s post. I think those of you that have been following MAD for the last few months know where this is going, so it’s off we go.
And here we are at Penn Station, a familiar stopping point here on MAD.
Everyone's standing still on the escalator which is nice.
I have to check the Duane Reade to see if things have improved in their greeting card section.
Okay, this shit is getting too personal in here! I'm going to talk to a manager the next time!
Okay, not far to go now...
And here we are...ahhh, I feel better already!
My friend serves up the dog...
And I retreat to my table in my Fortress of Solitude.
I let Gumby have a tableside seat tonight and that pleased him.
Dog gone, so now it's time to enjoy the beer...
And do a little drawing to relax.
A collective shot of tonight's artwork.
An obligatory Papaya Dog mirror shot and I'm done. Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow, after dark.
Okay, I’m really hungover tired tonight and so I’m skipping the Papaya Wars for a week (that applause you hear is coming from Miami...who could it be?) and I’m just going to do a random quickity blickity blog tonight. I’ve decided to go to Penn Station again. I know I went there last week, but it’s always full of people and a good majority of the shops and stores are open all night long. So it’s a good place to get some decent shots and then get home and try out my new keyboard. If the blog is blank tomorrow, you’ll know it didn’t work.
Easter Sunday at Mars Bar: Priceless.
New keyboard and mouse after drunkenly spilling a 16 ounce beer all over them after you got home: $106.
Here we are, Penn Station.
And here's some asshole that just pushed by me to walk down the escalator...
Because apparently there was just no room for him on the stairs. Asshole!
Wow, it's kind of empty in here. Is everyone on spring break?
Let's see what's happening at Duane Reade.
What a difference a week makes. Stock up for next year. Let's go see if the cards section have cleaned up their act.
Lyndon Johnson humor? What, are in 1965 or what?
Now that's just wrong! Let's get out of here!
Too bad this is closed, I'm wondering if they have Curly fries in here.
Ace photographer Jefferson Siegel sent in this photo from the Mars Bar festivities on Sunday. About 14 beers later and my keyboard would be history. Great to meet you Jeff and thanks for sending in the photo!
Hang on to your seats everybody, it’s time for the godamned thing that I can’t let go even though it’s the blog equivalent of beating a dead horse with a two year old tennis racket 10th excitement-packed edition of the Papaya Wars!
Last weekThe King held on to the number one spot for the third week in a row! Will he still be at the number one spot when this visit is done? Only time will tell, let’s head into another fucking hot dog stand battle and may the best Papaya come out on top! Banzai!
And it's off we go. I know you're probably sick of me bitching about the weather, but I'm still in a winter coat over here! I wish it would warm up already.
(Inside joke alert!) Walking past one of the city's many dollar pizza stores, I spied this fellow trying to snort salt off of the table. Three words: ROCK AND ROLL!
They have corndogs, but I can't face them again for awhile after that cold one in Times Square. Ecch!
I opted out for the regular Papaya dog and this gentlemen happily served it up.
There's tables in here, but no chairs. Let's settle in.
The hot dog looks good, but I forgot the vodka for the drink. Fuck! No patented Screwdapaya tonight.
Let's check out the signage in this place.
Oh, oh! Repeat signage, that's going to cost them valuable judging points!
Now wait a goddamned second! Whether you're hungry or broke? So you can just shuffle in here broke and stuff yourself with Papaya Dogs? Bullshit! This place would have half of the homeless population in here if that were true. I don't know about you, but I will not stand here and be lied to. Good night Papaya Dog!
On the way home I saw this sign, "Brunch With The Beatles." Now don't get me wrong, I'm a huge Beatles fan but Paul McCartney is starting to look like an old lady these days. And Ringo would just be staring at the bright and shiny silverware the whole time. And John and George...well, they must be pretty ripe these days, so I'm just going to pass. But thanks for the invitation. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.
This Week's Papaya Wars Standings. As always the rankings go from worst to the best. (The latest entry is in bold.) 9. Hell’s Kitchen Papaya: Because it’s not there anymore. 8. Papaya Dog in Times Square: They don’t have beer and I forgot to bring vodka. Plus my corn dog was borderline cold and they have a cracked window in there which can only mean bad luck to all who enter. 7. Papaya Dog at 6th Avenue and 4th: They’re liars! 6. Gray’s Papaya at 6th Ave. and 8th St: They don’t have beer but I did remember the vodka for my patented Papaya Wars Screwdapaya drink. New York Magazine delcares this the best of all Papaya’s but then tell’s us it’s endorsed by Mario Batali. Thinking about Super Mario in his shorts and orange clogs always cause me to lose my appetite, so that’s going to drag this place down in the ratings. And they get points knocked off for hopping on the dollar pizza wagon train that just keeps growing and growing. Plus I’ve got jury duty at 8:45 tomorrow. In the fucking morning tomorrow. KHHAAAAAANNN! 5. Chelsea Papaya: It’s clean, people were nice in there, but there’s no beer. 4. Gray’s Papaya on the Upper West Side: It brings back good memories and the signage is nice, but there’s no beer here and I don’t know if I’ll ever get that horrible taste of the papaya drink out of my mouth or mind. 3. Papaya Dog at 14th and 1st: The staff is super-friendly, it’s clean and the hot dogs are great there. However, they robbed me of my patented Ebony and Ivory ketchup and mustard shot! War is hell. 2. Penn Station Papaya: They’ve got beer! 1. Papaya King on the Upper East Side: They’ve got vodka...okay, you’ve got to bring it yourself and sneak it in, but still, this is the original Papaya King in New York City. They've been in the same spot on this block since 1932. The Beatles ate here on their first trip to New York when they appeared on the The Ed Sullivan Show. So does this put the King in first place for now? Yeah, yeah, yeah.
---------------------------- Bonus Photos! MAD commenter and Leaf Girl blogger, Kari, sent in some Papaya War-inspired hot dogs that she grilled up over the weekend. The top photo looks almost as good as dogs the King would grill up himself. But that bottom photo...with ketchup...Hunt’s ketchup...AND A PICKLE! So wrong...so, terribly wrong! But Kari does redeem herself by allowing my good friend Mr. Mustard into the shot for her variation of an Ebony and Ivory shot. Thanks for the photos, Kari!
Here we are, but instead of a Papaya Dog sign, there's burger signs everywhere. At least it's still here, in what appears to be an unchanged form. Let's take a closer look.
Inside it looks the same. Let's slowly move in closer.
Here's a familiar face, when asked if this was still a Papaya Dog, despite all the nasty burger signage, he just threw his hands up in the air. At least the familiar beer taps are still here.
There's the familiar Papaya dogs sizzling away.
Fuck it, there's a Papaya Dog on his shirt, I say it's still a Papaya Dog and my original Fortress of Solitude lives on!
Aaahh, home sweet home.
Gumby's all settled in, but there's a shitload of noise coming from the back.
It's filled with drunken idiots whom I assume are here for New Years Eve at Times Square. They're louder thand fuck and really obnoxious.
Fuck, this is a Fortress of Solitude people! I'm out of here! I can't wait till January 2nd!
At least on my way out I saw that the original Papaya sign is still hanging on, just like the Vanilla Fudge. I shall return.
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