Tuesday, November 30, 2004

My Dear Oprah: (Explicit Content: Beware)

When there is something in your life that is so empowering or entertaining there are no boundaries to obtainging more of that pleasure. The comedic arc of the covenant, Seinfeld Seasons 1-3 is now on dvd. There is much deserved buzz about the release. I find myself going to great limits to find out more about my favorite tv show ever. Even if that means watching Oprah.

First of all, let me tell you that having to watch Oprah interview the cast of Seinfeld was painful on many levels. It was like the day after Christmas break when the annoying kid brought the coolest toy to recess and everyone had to pretend to befriend the kid to get as close as possible to seeing the toy. Never before watching Oprah did I feel like a sellout, or better said a flaming pussy.

If I had to choose Mr. and Mrs. Worst interviewer it would definitely be Carson Daly and Oprah Winfrey. She was so captivating that the cast could be seen trying not to grimmace at the inane questions. This was the first group public appearance for the four since the show. It takes skill to lose the luster of cultural icons. Actually, it takes a pleathera of commercial breaks.

After each question ( I wish I was embellishing) Oprah was exhausted from actually having guests that required her full attention and would pause for commercials. Now I know Oprah is well known for her give aways. Yes, all audience members got a copy of the dvds, but I also believe every audience member got their own commercial break. How else could seven questions turn into an hour show?

The other tragedy was seeing the cast with the wrong make up on. Jason Alexander was so pale that if he did not have that reminants of a hair line, he would have easily looked like Humpty Dumpty. Julia was a bit pale as well but that is ok, since she wants me.

I knew I would be disappointed by the collaboration with Oprah. Of all shows, Oprah. Forget Leno, Letterman, Conan, let's go straight to the heart of America's homemakers. They are the ones that REALLY appreciated the show. It was business. Besides Allen Greenspan, Oprah has probably the next biggest influence on the economy. She could tell people to buy Mein Keimf (probably spelled wrong) and they would make it knock the Divinci Code off the Best Seller list.

Oprah touches everything with this selfish Midas mentality. When you try to make gold look even more lusterous you just end up making it look tacky.

Sunday, November 28, 2004

Affirmative Friendship

I chose to cast friends in my first movie and that went rather well. However, there was a couple instances in which the script called for two large black men. I actually have friends of many ethnicities but only one was muscular. It lead me to feel as though my group of friends was as diverse as the Abercombie staff.

The next logical step was to see if any of my friends had large black man friends. Tragically this turned into a six degrees of diversification. I had a friend who had a friend who's sister's uncle knew of a black guy that delivered the mail, or something like that. Cross cultural relationships are fantastic once they get off the ground. Those first few interactions make us pretend that the notion of a friend of a different ethnicity is the cat's meow.

There are some people that are so clueless with their own identity that they must become a barnacle to another culture. Suddenly befriending a gay or Indian (for example) is as socially gratifying as getting the new mini i-pod. Will there ever come a time where alterior motives of social gain are put aside to actually learn from where someone comes? Never, that's why Homecoming queens are typically cheerleaders.

Times allegedly change but the message of stereotypes are resulute to such change. Why? One, because stereotypes are the characatures of a particular group. Secondly, outsiders don't have the balls to put down the insecurity blanket and speak with not to someone.

I truly feel that affirmative action is equally detrimental to society as politically correctness. On the other hand, some people who normally would not get a chance to excell now are doing so. Should we be doing the same with our personal lives? We would definitely learn more about other cultures. Yet, what I dislike is the focus is on race, not ethnicities. There are many different ethnic groups that are all apart of the human race.

Now don't go out and give your pals the pink slip for the holidays. Actually, that would be a rich concept. Call the people who are just acquaintances and tell them that in the best interest of my unity with the rest of society I am relinquishing our personal association in efforts to develop a further understanding of how to befriend the Asian, Jewish, and the ever so powerful Christian right.

Affirmative friendship. A proposition so absurd I expect it to be apart of the same proposition as punishing neglegeant parents with a time out.

Saturday, November 27, 2004

Keep Hope Alive

Last night was perhaps the greatest demonstration of how men and women can unite for a common cause. It was supposed to be a night with just the guys but my friend Mark just couldn't say no to his girlfriend Monica. Much to my surprise this was a good thing in the long run.

Far to often someone's girlfriend comes out and single handedly ruins the night. Not Monica. Her goal, brought on by herself mind you, was to see how may girls she could get to make out with me. GENIUS! All I had to do was sit there and let the women come to me.

Within minutes of hitting the lottery of lust jackpot, I welcomed the first installment of a blonde duo with an most appreciated balance of sympathy and clevage. In all fairness, the original storyline being used was that I was getting married the next day and needed some good luck kisses. Here's the catch, no one kisses an engaged guy on the lips. No one but skanks.

Thus, the strategy was altered, for the better. Instead of being engaged, I suddenly became a guy who's fiance left him two days before Thanksgiving to become a lesbian and I was just in denial. Editor's note: fidelity sells in a Barnes and Nobel, pity will always triumph over fidelity in a bar. Much to my delight, once word spread of my romantic tragedy I was given kisses and a jager shot by the waitress. That alone deserves applause.

Monica would not rest there, mainly since I dared her to get ten girls to kiss me. Enter Erin. She was an undergrad at Eastern Illinois. After putting out my cigar, she turned me toward her and told me to how sorry she was about my lesbian ex-fiance. She then grabbed me planted a few dead on and had some more words. Failing to get her to stay she had one more parting gift to make sure I would love again. Erin pulled my face into her clevage and proceeded to shake. A few more kisses and she was gone. To where. I may never know, but we'll always have Malibu.

While in Malibu, I was on fire. Even when I busted out the Spanish the hispanic buslady was digging me. (I am pretty sure I shouldn't brag about that) Malibu was attached to another bar with allegations that even hotter girls were there.

Rumors were true. We tried the same plan and it failed flat out. Women will take shame on you if you are sitting but if you are trying to get sympathy while on the dance floor well Charlie, you are R-O, RONG. I went from kisses to "what's wrong with you?!" "Uhh, nothing I'm fine. Just because I need a 5'4" asain to get me some girls, there's something wrong with me?" "If you are about to judge me, then let me tell you what is your actual pant size.

Somehow I found myself grinding inbetween two attractive girls. It was almost working. Then Brian walked by. My friend went to school with one of the girls, Galena. To make matters more embarrassing, I already tried to pick Galena up four years ago. Just incase you're swift like Columbo, I should tell you it didn't pan out. So I had no choice but to pretend I knew it was her and act like I wasn't trying to pick her up. She saw threw me, again.

Dance clubs will always be a great way to laugh at myself, and consider the honor of involuntary celebacy. Being engaged before my fiance made me a victim of homosexual curiosity can certainly help me meet Mrs. Right-Place, Right-Morals, or even Mrs. Right-there.

Thanks Monica for all your help. I am pretty sure this anecdote insures perpetual bachelorhood.

Wednesday, November 24, 2004

Extra Helping of Misunderstanding

Throughout the past five months or so I have gone through some definite highs and lows. None as high nor as low as in the past 36 hours. I was told that there was a company ready to give me a job offer. Excuse me, career offer. Anyway, I then found out that there was a former employer that would not give the professional reference that they promised to give. I didn't even have to go through a divorce to get screwed by a lawyer.

Definitely one should realize that what goes up will eventually come down (due to resting on laurels). For every wonderful girl I meet there is a captivating schmuck with her. The holiday season can really strain the personal life. There is one way to know if a relationship is right for you. If you can actually say that a romantic relationship is not a financially sound endevour then there is a reason why your bookmarks are freshteens.com or momsontheprowl.com. (I don't know if those exist but wouldn't doubt it.)

~~~~~~

So what will it be this winter? The fudge or love? Too much of either will cause your friends to mock you without mercy. My dilemma during the holidays is the food. I am a momma's boy no doubt. I love my mom's cooking. I eat other people's cooking but really prefer my mom's. I fear that although my words are complimentary, my facial expression is that of a person that swallowed Draino.

I wonder if the early settlers called there leftovers casseroles. The refridgeration process was definitely lacking and that alone makes me believe gravy was not an intentional turn of events. I wish I could have been there when the pilgrims and native americans were eating together. It would have been like the first time the in-laws meet. No one at the table wants to talk about the obviuos merging of cultures. Uncomfortable small talk about what they do fills the air. "So, Runs like a duck, do you just have something against pants?"

There is no way they could have even understood eachother. It's not like prior to getting on the Mayflower the pilgrims took Cheerokee as a second language classes. Who was there to teach the native americans to speak English? Oh, I forgot. Mr. Musket was the instructor.

I bet the idea of the children's table can be traced all the way back to the first Thanksgiving. If I was on a boat for weeks with some bratty fancy lads under ten I would build the table myself. Supposedly there was eel at the first Thanksgiving. That should anwer any questions to why of all cultures there is not a native american cuisine restraunt. Maybe if they deep fried that up it would go great with that tasty Austrailian dipping sauce for the bloomin' onion.

Monday, November 22, 2004

That's a Wrap

So over the weekend it all started. My first movie is in the can and I am now preparing the editing studio to wrap it up in a precious bow. Granted I am the editing studio, but nonetheless it will be glorious. There were many issues averted and created during the shoot. All in all, I am absolutely proud of all involved.

My quest for two black men was satisfied the day before with a casting call I placed online. They then did not show. Realizing the necesity for the comedic relationship for one character, I substituted the two black men for a relationship between a young woman and an older woman. Nothing like an odd lesbian connection. There are plenty of laughs that will be probably started with "what the ..."

I never knew how many sexual innuendos were going to ensue from the body language. There was a scene where I am trying to pick up a girl that is tripping on x and she then chokes on a glow stick. Never would I have imagined the heimlich to be so provacative. The girl was one of my best friend's girlfriend to boot. "It was acting dude." He found the humor, I hope.

The big lessons of the night were 1. no alcohol before wrapping 2. 2:00pm sharp apparently means come when you are done beating Halo 2.

The editing will be dealt with in a swift manner, and of course a screening party will be in the works.

Friday, November 19, 2004

Ladies, There is Plenty of Mike to Go Around...

Too many times I have heard women say that a guy with a sense of humor is highly desired.

Come prove that line of BS true.

Improv Show Tonight.

11415 S. Beacon
Orland Park
8:00pm
$5 at the door


Two hours later you'll be happy with your decision and maybe even meet a young comedian. As the signs at busy intersections say... Dating Over 40? Bring your daughter.

Gate-Gate

There comes a point when a momentous occassion arises that we are inclined to give a catchy name to remember it for more than three minutes. Typically, when something hits the fan we have to go to the modern day cluster fu#$ called Watergate. Now, as elated as I am that our society can recall something from that era besides Vietnam, we really should let crooked presidents die.

Watergate was a hotel to my understanding. The novelty of any noun + Gate = great joke is a bit played. We have Ashley Gate, Florida Gate, and soon to be Condy Gate. I get it. Ok? Someone else really f'd up. I wonder if there was anything good that happened to Nixon. He is remembered saying "I am not a crook." He is drawn as a man that while alive was melting in front of our very eyes. The best thing that happened to Nixon was Clinton.

As a society we need to update our records. There has to be someone out there to take the jabs as our generations inept diviant leader who refuses to learn from past mistakes. Who could be that person? R. Kelly? Tara Reid? Ben Affleck? Dick Cheney?

I certainly dread the blissful moment where one of those yahoos graciously falls on the grenade. However, I am sure US weekly will have a great photo spread.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Self-Diagnosed Scatterbrain

Life this week has been exactly as unexpected as I should have seen. There is a law in physics, Newton's 2nd law I believe. It states that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Now I left my job in May with plenty of money to sustain a sabatical from profit. Now in November, I am seven days from turning tricks that I am very sure will not recoup the expenses alone.

I am pleased to say that I am making my first movie this weekend. With a cast and crew of truly amazing people that I have befriended since returning to Chicagoland we have begun the foundation of some greatly scary prospects. Many of the actors come from the Second City curriculum that I am apart. I look forward to getting this movie Last Night, to the can asap and sent out to four film/comedy fests by December 15. There are about a half dozen more that I intend on entering.

Needless to say I am not planning on pigeon holing myself to just film. Besides the improv at SC, I am hoping to get a cable access show with a montly episode. Finally, something to watch on the Woodridge channel.

Sidenote: There was a comment made from a Mary on the blog for "Just Maybe." Dear Mary, which Mary are you? I can only think of one and would appreciate it if you left your email for me to contact you.

~~~~~~~~~

I had two inteviews today and the first one was not necessarily the best. This time it was not my fault. When I got there they didn't know that I was coming. Plus the office manager that was supposed to interview me was at Iowa St. giving a lecture on sales. Nothing like a swim upstream with two people who clearly had better things to do than speak with me.

I am confident that I wooed them. Actually, I don't know, nor am I sure if I will be able to know. I say that only because Whitney Houston's "how will I know" is on the itunes. By the way I should mention to readers that do not know me personally. I am straight. I just think every genre of music has it's beauty, even flamboyant music.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Incase you have not gone to a comedy open mic in a while, go. You will be impressed. Some comics are actually very good. Some of us on the other hand are not as consistant infront of the crowd. Right now my two preferred comics to listen to are Josh Chaney (not sure on the spelling) and Kumail (fyi-not an Irish comic).

~~~~~~~~

I was saddened by the change in format of Windy 100.3 fm to become LUV radio. Fortunately, 99.9 fm the power of 9 (way to go Marketing team!) came to save the day. Their slogan nothing but a cry for attention. "...we'll play that." They play anything and mean it. The station went from "Werewolves of London" to "Bloulevard of Broken Dreams." Which is a great practice to follow- as long as it is good, it gets played.

Friday, November 12, 2004

Die Another Day

The other day there was a news teaser on the radio for a medical study. The whole thing was introduced as "you've heard of eating less to lose wait. What about eating less to live longer. Tune into the nightly news with Tom Brokaw to see if this diet is best for you. Not everyone should follow this diet."

Finally. It took evidence from a medical team to give the US government the go ahead to say that not everyone deserves to live longer. That means you elderly. Uncle Sam is coming after you and your precious social security.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddy Curry wants out of Chicago. He is tired of being blamed for the loosing and well, more loosing. Good idea Eddy, make sure to blame the fans too. I agree that the only way to improve Eddy Curry and Tyson Chandler is to get rid of them.


~~~~~~~~~~

Yesterday blew on multiple levels. Possibly the worst interview ever. Just a heads up for anyone trying to get into sales. To prep for your interview, practice selling random objects from a 7th grader's backpack. The alleged businessman asked me if I could sell something I am familiar with. I said yes. He then told me to sell a papermate pen to him. Judging by the teeth marks I assumed he was quite attached to this style of pen and would be a sure thing. No.

There is so much more to the story but it will be best composed and performed at Crush on Monday night. See you there.


Monday, November 08, 2004

Just Maybe

A truth pillars
with marbled decadence
edged in green anticipation
an essay of passion
permiated by the delicate brushup
pounding hesitation, a vaccuumed exhale
all succumbed by a glance of
just maybe
falling face forward
high gloss satin expectations
bottom out as they top all
preconcieved notions
four students of the moment
are swallowed with blankets of
rebelling innocence
the cheating student reveals and
revels in the sight of
an angel
words don't justify
the thoughts of the heart like
living the moment
or maybe they do
just maybe.

Saturday, November 06, 2004

_a_gm_n is My Anti-Drug

Besides alcohol, I have not partaken in any recreational narcotics. There are a number of reasons why I think that staying drug free is best for me. Not everyone falls into these catagories but I really think we are all one line or rock away from really understanding what Rob Lowe went through. I found the following inspire me to be drug-free.

1. Spelling. On average four or five times a week I question the spelling on words that I knew how to spell since I wore shoes with laces. Now, I spell these words correctly but I then begin to wonder if I mispelled the word. Recently I stared at the word horseshoe for about three minutes. I spelled it right but thought that it looked peculiar. Many people mix the i before e rule up, not many fumble on the o before e rule.

2. Pigment. I am already pale enough that anyother drug will only lead me to believe that my skin will become translucent. I leave that stuff to people like Kate Moss.

3. Led Zepplin. If I start doing drugs I will be have to call them the best band ever or loose my right to keep my shirt unbuttoned all day. Also, I have made it to the age of 23 with only wearing tie die three times in my life, I don't need that number to increase.

4. Funyons and Bit-o-honey. These snack foods are so nasty that even an etheopian would turn them down. These are staples at the top of the addicts food pyramid, of course with Sunny D to wash things down.

5. Rave Girls. Now besides Kate Hudson, never have I seen a beautiful girl with a guy with a chemical dependence. All the girls that do drugs are constantly asking for things like a ride, some money, more drugs, a reason to live, or a defibulator.

6. Showering. I like maintaining a high level of personal hygene. If I got into drugs there is a very good chance that I would be bathing with dryer sheets. Even if I managed to shower, I would prefer to not regain consciencousness when I am licking the tile walls in search of more acid.

7. Career Growth. I know that a lifestyle of drugs can shorten my lifespan with an abrupt death. The thought of dying before I am old enough to watch the reunion show for the OC scares me straight. Plus if I do drugs I can never pursue my political aspirations to become Mayor or President.

Thank you Nancy Regan. If it weren't for you and D.A.R.E. (Drugs Abuse Really Encouraged) I wouldn't be where I am.

Friday, November 05, 2004

A Cornacopia of Disgust

What a wicked web we weave. There is nothing more compelling than the story of a self inflicted drama. Maybe there is something redeemable about the blur between professional and just being human. Most of the controversies one reads about or hears are all manifestations that come from some self righteous glob of immaturity crying "what about me?"

I visited cnn.com and came across something fantastically disturbing. There is an update on the condition of Yassir Arafat. The link tab reads "Arafat in irreversible coma. SEE VIDEO." Let that marinate in your cerebellum. Ok, ready? I don't care what your beliefs are to this man's political clout, he is in a coma. Why do I need to know what an irreversible coma looks like? I am pretty sure it looks like someone sleeping, but with greiving family and friends around them.

The lack of tact executed by CNN is above and beyond disrespectful. I could maybe see Fox pulling a stunt like this. There is a huge difference between freedom of speech and freedom of the press. One is a pillar of the American value system and the other is riot gear for people seeking revenge from four years of wedgies in the locker room.

It's a coma. Although the outlook is grave a coma is as predictable as a pregnant woman's appetite. The manner in which his apparent final moments alive are being documented puts us all in a bird's eye view. Unfortunately, we are not the eagles we claim. In this instance we have become vultures.

The irony of this whole thing is that CNN is reporting Arafat is still in the coma. Nothing like the late breaking news coverage on something that has been the same for days. Come to think of it the weather tab said that tomorrow has a 100% chance for the sun to rise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NBA players, Latrell Sprewell specifically are whining about not having enough money to "put food on the table." I was angry at first time I heard that. Then I realized that besides the NBA, only at Wal-Mart can you find more high school graduates working. My advice to Spre is either get a smaller table to blanket with all the fixin's or simply start using a condom so that your 14 million dollar contract could actually support you and your colony of love children.

With 14 million dollars alone this year he can't get food for his family. It is all about the priorities. The lamborginis aren't really family sedans, but the jumbo pack of Hot Pockets will surely balance things out. I never thought the day would come that a Good Charlotte lyric actually rang true. "Lifestyles of the rich and famous, they're always complaining. " Sprewell is lucky to be employed. Last time I checked, whenever one is caught on film choking a boss they aren't offered a second chance.

I find this all very amusing. Don't you find it hard to keep a straight face while a man complaining for more respect is wearing cornrows? Respect starts at home buddy, and nothing says "I have issues" like a head of cornrows.

Thursday, November 04, 2004

I Make Only 1 Promise

This Saturday 11/6/04 I will be hosting a comedy show at the Cornservatory Theater 4210 N. Lincoln downtown. $10 to get in, 10:00pm start time. I promise to be slightly funnier than a funeral.

See you there if you can.

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

Return of the Jebi

I stayed up last night until after midnight to watch the American tragedy. President Cheney and his sidekick are most likely going to be in office for another four blissful years. I wish them well and hope that their foreign policy is more tactful than the Risk game they have been playing thus far. I could be the bitter loser hear and jab at the Republicans but I must tip my hat to Republicans because they got the votes.

The born again Christians put Bush over the top in many states. Meanwhile the Dumbacratic party counted on the wave of first time voters and people under 25. Maybe if the voting polls were to coincide with the TRL countdown Kerry would have won in a landslide. To say that your secret weapon is a generation of people who's last vote was for Cindy to be prom queen is as bad an idea as a Dukakis photo op.

During the broadcast there were the exit poll statistics that I feel are as believable as a woman telling her dress size. Those stats were a funnel of percentages that only distracted the audience from the fact that there was no new information to tell. So of the 25% of Protestants that own minivans and two dogs, an overwhelming 72% voted for Bush. Of the 72% of the Protestant minivan driving dual dog owners, amazingly 47% had velcro shoes on. When someone gives a statistic I initially don't believe them because it is just like when a friend says they have a new girlfriend or boyfriend and all you can say is "alright" yet all you can think is "I'll believe it when I see it."

The only shining moment was when Barack Obama won and then just about the rest of the Senate went Republican. I really like this guy and look forward to seeing what he will do in the coming years. This was his first big election and he was such a favorite that long time hopefuls needed his endorsement to win. He's kind of like Ben Roethlesburger, except well, not a football player.

I am still frustrated. There is this whole new hybrid of disappointment and fear that has been planted last night. I am not talking about Bush's next term (fearing the inevitable is just pointless). I looked at the Democratic Party to see who was left. In four years from now the Congress and House will probably still be in the GOP and we will still be in Iraq and we will still be color coding our holidays and vacation spots. However, the worse thing I can imagine is that the sour puss that sold out her roots to move and be a NY senator will run in 2008.

The worse part about Kerry losing is that Hillary Clinton will be running for president even sooner. There is only one way to ensure Republican tenure for years like having this woman try and take charge. I have no problem to a woman president, because I know it won't happen until I am either dead or waking up only for pills and Matlock. There is no way to discourage her either because some genius had to say if you can make it in NY then you can make it anywhere.

There is always a silver lining to be found about a given situation. Perhaps the silver lining about this election is that I have learned that I should stop making new friends that are under 25, unless they have recently found Jesus- again.

Monday, November 01, 2004

So There's This Girl...

and she's a freaking moron.

For the past three haircuts I have gone to the Haircuttery. Another personal hygene secret released from the vault. Regardless, there is this young girl who embodies the sister of Daria. I never could hear her voice since I would be across the room, but today she went ahead and cut my hair.

I used to think she was rather attractive, and then she opened her mouth. Just about every fifth word was given the suffix -uh. I wouldn't have noticed so quickly if she weren't carrying on a conversation with the rest of the staff while trimming around my ears.

I am also convinced that no matter how I describe my desired hair style, the stylist will make sure I leave looking like a douche bag. She asked if I want my hair to be styled "natural." Fearing a combover, I said yes and then she proceeded to slick my hair back like I was either my grandpa or Pat Riley.

This girl is something special. That's why she earned the $2 tip.

My Near Death Experience

It doesn't take a pyschologist to understand the difficulities I am having in my life. Whether personal or professional things seem to be at a lackluster (at best) status. Well, today and from here on out I will make sure to walk the path to righteousness or something along those lines. See at about 11:30 today I almost died.

This is all too embarrassing really. First, I got out of bed at 9:00am to quickly turn on Dawson's Creek on TBS. It was in the middle of some tiresome argument between Joey and Pacey that I realized I was obsessed with the nostalgia factor of life that did not deserve a moments time to rekindle. I then began to eat lunch. For the second meal in a row I ate a frozen pizza. Cute to some, I really think mozzarella is my cocaine. Upon eating a slice I learned the hard way that there was a loose shard of crust. It then got lodged into God knows where and I began to panic.

Not being able to breathe I thought of the worse case scenario. Death. How horrible would it be for my family to walk into my room with my face down in a pepperoni pizza with most likely Saved By the Bell on tv and my perpetual job search present on the computer screen? While hacking and hoping I began to negotiate with God. I took the whole choking on something typically delicious as a way that God saying "best you recognize."

After recognizing, I returned to my bed to eat some more pizza. Proving that no matter how severe a pain is dealt, as long as there is a facit that could maybe bring us some joy we'll risk it. I am going to try and go cold turkey on pizza and other such detrimental activities which may even be drinking. It took me eighteen hours to really recover from a few glasses of Spooky Punch. I don't know what is more lame the name Spooky Punch or the fact that I can't handle it.

I guess my writing this declaration one ups the stakes we all set for ourselves. If you write a goal down there is a significantly larger success rate than just saying what you want to do. So here I go. I will be genuine to all my pursuits ahead of me. Winning will be great but I can deal with the solace of being the lovable loser.