Monday, December 18, 2006

Holiday Wish List

Now boys and girls, be careful for what you wish for you just may get it. I came to this nasty realization that there lies a great level of humilty and humiliation with one's selfishness and self-absorbed perspective on life. Let's check out the top things I saw on tv this week for consumption.

Fathead- the gigantor size of all sports poster/billboard for home or office. It could be NFL, NCAA, Nascar, NBA, or even NHL (incase anyone watches outside Canada and my friend Larry's house). The beauty of this product is that it can be moved from wall to wall with out losing it's stick. Which makes for a fortunate lifespan since it will more like need to be taken off the wall of many future ex-girlfriends wall quickly as she throws your weak ass out. I like this because I am a vidiot. There is nothing that cries for footie pajamas more than a giant poster of your favorite sport team on your wall well after your voice has cracked (I am exempt from that scrutiny as I am still on record for the being the oldest male to still crack his voice.).

Nike+i-Pod - Sweet, I always love to see the small sweatshops of the world collabo on a new toy. Now that an elevator voice is attributed to how far or fast I run I can't wait until they merge the i-pod with my shower caddy and toilet paper roll. I am always led to believe that the best inspiration for fitness should be who you're trying to sleep with. If that doesn't work just grab your waist and if you can grab enough to hang a small plant from it, keep running.

Birthcontrol- I don't recall the name of it but essentially it reduces the number of periods a girl has a year. Watch out ladies. So you are not having your friend flow over for a coffee as much. Repurcssion one; once we know that say good bye to the logically illogical mood swings and ability to kill without guilt. Gone are the days where you can make that silent gesture to get out of situations, dates, or traffic tickets. On the bright side now the hot women can wear white pants longer.

Thank God we got past that white after Labor Day rule.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Dental Dam!

I just got back from the dentist today. The installments of pain are due to my lack of flossing, so I hear. My dentist is a nice guy but today was a rough day. While using what felt like a tire jack on my face, he began to give me play by play. I get you are drilling out the bad stuff. There is no need to tell me what you are doing explicately. However, could you please make sure the hygentist gets the game plan prior to coming into the room. Never am looking forward to people hunching over me with the words "just give me the 24 gauge" uttered.

No matter what the dentist tells you regarding the severity of the problem you will be informed by the sound of the drill when it hits tooth. Like the slowest bee sting the first drill slapped some sense into me. Ok, I will floss more. Too Late. In came another drill. This one was a slow mini version of the drill from NASA. I may have opted for being thrown down the flight of stairs it felt like was going through that tooth.

While mastering how to clench my entire body for over an hour, I was asked questions about what I felt and being ready for more of the proceedure. It was at that point that I realized how effective dental work can be as creative sentencing for felons. I was nodding and giving a thumb up for more pain. Now granted, this pain is covered by sedation; for an hour.

I was blessed with nice banter with the hygentist. She asked me if I had spent any time "watching these bears?" It was at this moment I realized how I sound when I am full of it. A very sweet gesture negated by the fact that I thought we had concluded the process. Wrong. The only thing more painful than dental work is coming back from intermission. Hey, let's have that sedative ware down.

At one point, as leaning in to proceed the dentist asked "I hope you don't feel this."

I think we all know that honesty is the best policy, just probably not in medicine.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Face for Radio

Back on the air! I am going to be on wtmx-fm tonight at 7:30pm tonight for the Mix's on air dating show call Mix'n'Match on air dating. The sweet deal is that I am the bachelor that picks one of three girls. Check it out on line at and I will report in full post show.

Monday, November 20, 2006

Long Lasting Sap

As I was driving around Lake Tahoe the other day, I stopped at a beach. Nice, cold but nice. The trees where huge, and so were the pine cones. I picked one up that was roughly the size of my head (which is large). When I went to put it down I realized extra large pine cones come with an extra large ammount of sap. I was able to wash the sap off in the lake but then had some transfer of sap. I went to make a call on the cell phone, passed sap on to the phone, and then sap to my sideburns. This sap has been on the side of my head like cement for almost four days now. Someone told me to just comb it out. The thought of that pain and bald spot scares me.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Taste of the Road

After the past six weeks I have hit three conferences and three states meeting hundreds of students. Arkansas, Illinois and Nevada have given me plenty to talk about and now the blog remembers.

While in Arkansas the conference was tied into one of the finest and rare community events. Duke Days, when Little Rock honors the fine show of "Dukes of Hazard." There were about ten general lee's, boss hog's patrol car and many more. I really look forward to getting back to Arkansas. One major reason Chuch's Chicken.

With all the programs to attend while there I had one half day to recover and I did so with SEC football and a trip to the Church's Chicken. The chicken itself is nothing to boast about, but there is something on the menu that makes life tolerable. Sweet corn nuggets. Now as I lay watching Alabama play football, I became the posterchild of a sloth moment. I actually set the deep fried corn nuggets on my stomach as I watched the game. Equally satisfying and disturbing. It's hard to pinpoint a moment in one's life where you can feel the initial curve on the downward spiral of livelihood. Thank you Church's Chicken.


In Peoria I was lucky enough to hit up two of my favorite places, Arby's and Bob Evan's. Now the only peculiar thing I must say about this Arby's is that it was the most outgoing, friendly, and female Arby's ever. Run by what may very well have been the cheerleading team on a quest for new uniforms. When I was leaving it was like trying the GAP Challenge (entering the store, touch the back wall and leave without being spoken to by an employee.). I was nearly out the door when a firing squad of courtesy sprayed thank yous and farewells. American values, and the best curly fries; you can't beat that.

It is common knowledge that I happened to forget to book my hotel for Peoria. Upon the first night of hanging out I found myself experimenting how well a car stays warm overnight. Four hours of sleep in the rental car gave me plenty of rest until the cold woke me up. (by the way, of all disturbing ways to be woken, cold is definitely a memorable one.) I drove over to the Bob Evans for a quality meal where I sat between the typical male elders in mesh hats discussing the morning commute and pending winter weather. Once I finished I did continue in my luxury stay in the front seat of the rental. The level of class I bring is slightly higher than sleeping four hours behind a Bob Evans. Regardless, I recommend it completely, barring you bought breakfast.


Reno taught me the importance of refridgeration. I ordered a massive ammount of pizza one night and worked on it for the next day and a half. All the toppings were handling well except for the chicken. That stuff goes south in a hurry. The term shelf life is a very misleading one. I was quick to realize that the average time frame for determining shelf life of food is almost always hind sight.

The road is great but there is something to be said about home cooking, you don't need to sleep in a car to enjoy it.

Monday, August 07, 2006

The O-Ring/Manhood Proxy

It has come to my attention that I am on a renegade diet headed nowhere close to the cob salad craze. Which by the way, how can someone get geeked on a salad? Is there any meat in it? Or is it the dressing that seals the deal? Newsflash- salad dressing is garden gravy, not good for you either (at least not through excessive amounts, but we all have self control). Check out my weekend eating.

Saturday I woke up early to get messed up by the dentist and drool on myself for three hours post procedure. I intro the day with some applesauce (not because I am some lamo, but because the stuff with cinnamon is sweet), then logical choice is pork chop in a spicy hickory marinade, a couple beers, and then two custom made burgers that could be mistaken for beef saucers, easily 1/3 lb after the grill. Those were delicious but not the best of the weekend.

I was set to meet my dad for pizza mid Sunday. However he was caught in some tourist thing and I went for a snack with my friends until he called. Well, I ordered a basket of onion rings. I ate them myself. Pretty much 2/3 lb (guess) of onion rings consumed in 30 minutes. I then drove to my apartment only to be called when I got there. He was at the pizzeria, waiting. Now I had to get there and prepare myself to eat again.

I sit down and couldn't even stomach a drink stronger than water. He then mentions that we should get the usual. Fearing that, I looked blankly, another order of onion rings and a large sausage pizza was in the mix. Now this is a smaller portion of rings but after already eating my fill of them I had to now hide the fact I ate some not too long ago.

I took care of those no problem. Then comes the pizza. I know pizza, and more importantly the psychology of pizza. As each slice is eliminated the mental state of the eater changes. First it is great to eat, then it turns into I could go for a couple more, finally there are 4-6 slices (if square) or 2 (triangle) that remain. At this point the pizza begins to taunt as they are the few, the proud, the leftovers. It is now a mission to eat these bastards off the plate and leave nothing but it's greasy memory on a paper napkin. There were four pieces left my dad takes two says "we need to finish this, and you need to take those two...Or you're not a man." Joking sure, but never has he given such an ultimatum. I knew that there was a better way to get one's manhood justified. I am sure the ladies will dig that too.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Big Mig and the 10 Foot Square

So I went out to a concert on Saturday that is pretty much frat rock with the concentrated pool of horny sorority girls. The last time this band was in town I went, got drunk and hooked up as well. This time was not too far from the formula. However this time it only took me ten minutes to meet some girl upon getting into the show. Hitting off quite easily and then comes the dilemma, I finished my beer. She sees that I have to go by the law of binge drinking. She gives me money to do the run for her as well. I turn around, she grabs me looks deeply in my eyes and pauses so long I thought there would be a a make out session. She then says "you promise that you'll come back with the beer? Promise me that? Please.

Amazingly, I took the quest with vigor and made it to the beer cart no problem with my friend. We turned around and then I realized something about myself- no matter how confident I may be, finding two people in a sea of thousands very hard, especially ten beers in and wearing aviator sunglasses while at night. I did find her again, so I thought. This girl had a headband that was multi-color and when I returned that was the item I looked for. It was closely attached to the forehead of someother dude. What?! I thought we had something!? I was going to call her out on it but I didn't create a scene and interrupt the other drunken hook-ups, plus I had two free beers! (at $10 a beer that's a fair trade)

Well into the show I was barely conscious. I had what I thought I hit gold with comedy gold. I came up with a show idea. I called my mom because I didn't have a notepad. It was loud, my mom and brother were taking the call and they thought I was in trouble. Nope, the show with no other concept than the title itself was disclosed via drunk dial to mom.

Big Mig and the 10 Foot Square. Coming soon. Gold.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Brats, Brats, Burning

So this past weekend was more than monumental. Besides being a solid amatuer bacci ball player, this weekend took the cake. Quick hits here, for those who would like a box score. Here goes.

Brats eaten by myself- 6 in two sittings, plus 1 burger, 1.5 pork chops and countless beers.
Break ups - 1 (awesome, best holiday split ever)
Number of women I met, offered to buy a drink and then backed out of the offer. - 1

So to the big story, my friend brought up his law school gal pal. She came to a show of mine on Friday and seemed to enjoy the end of the night. Never before have I actually been around someone that was disgusted by middle class socializing. To much shagrin, she was a trooper for about 2.5 hours and then apparently the cook out was to end according to her or the Martha Stewart magazine guiding the elite through life.

So we heckled her to be the ball girl during a pool volleyball match. With her vapid personality I was actually pleased that in the past few days my dogs had liberal digestive systems. Alas, she kept her shoes clean but was vying to leave pronto. Being the new found buzzkill to the party my friend spoke to her about not having a set time to be at my party. She then replies, "the novelty has worn off." He asked if that was regarding the pool girl comments (which were running dry in all honesty), she then said "no, being here."

To cut this story into a readable length, my friend told her to essentially stop being so selfish and wait until they left. Prior to leaving the room with her. They broke up. I said somethings to her that in all honesty were way to nice. She cried that it was her birthday weekend (Tuesday is the day), and I bit my tongue to let her know that a birthday weekend works when you are in college, or around people that realize how much of an attention whore you are. (I know that is ironic with my eternal quest for attention, at least I try to make people laugh on the way though.)

So I went to the beach today. Awesome. I am very proud of the midwest female population that made it out today. Good get on the bikinis and general interest in beach sports. As I patroled the beach in my aviators, we decided it would be best to hit the waves. Now, I am a semi-pro lake wave surfer and think I conquered about a 5.75 foot wave at one point today. My friend lost his aviators and we came to realize one thing. We are above the waves, unofficially the best frisbee players in the midwest, and we should have put on sunblock.

What I love about the sunburn is that you can't see it come until a couple hours later. Sunburns come in all different colors and even shapes. Mine has done an acceptional job highlighting my sholders and soon to come six pack (or present belly).

Happy 4th.

Friday, June 16, 2006

The Next Great Tease/ and Show

So firt things first. Incase you don't follow the myspace page, tonight I am performing a stand up show.A lenghty show, of full show proportions. That's right, the show that should have occurred in April has found a site tonight.

The Apollo Chicago Theater
2540 N Lincoln Avenue Chicago, IL 60614
Box Office (773) 935-6100
Tickets $10. at the door, over the phone or through ticketmaster.
Start 10:30p.

The next great tease is that I got an email today from a person requesting to have my address to let me know if I made it or not to perform in the Boston Comedy Festival. Sweet! Right? Well, why would someone ask to get your mailing address to reject you if they could already do it via email? If that goes south I now know that almost will only be a good story to people that only never.

More shows and blogs to come, I promise I'll try again.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Walk This Way

Something of late has returned to my attention. I apparently have trouble walking. In high school I grew so quickly that I walked like Shaggy. Now, (maybe the shoes) fell down stairs and almost fell again this morning. Falling down stairs is such a humbling experience. It shows that you are either really old, not paying attention, drunk, or less skilled mechanically than a three year old.

I don't know what is worse. Growing up I actually caught a number of people from falling all the way down our steps to our family room. Great-grandma was the scariest. She was so old that when I went to grasp her from falling further I feared breaking her bones that way.

Maybe the handicap ramps are more embarrassment resistant slopes. I think they are great ideas, it's a shame that the majority of early ramp use comes at an amusement park. Our minds are conditioned to get to a rollercoaster after winding around for a quarter mile, not Wal-Mart.

Monday, May 01, 2006

Bill of Hook Up Rights

Welcome to the world of hook up ettiquette. Now that Spring is back and we are trying to kick the sexual rust off on a couple of practice runs, (or in the baseball metaphor world- going to the cages) let's make sure we can agree to a hook up treaty.

This like our great constitution must be able to be ammended but at the same time we should have the Bill of Hook Up Rights that all people are entitled to until they break them and must be tried by a mass of pop culture tinted gossip lenses. So let's begin, shall we?

1. Freedom of STD's. Sorry you must be honest and not like the MLB's steriod policy. One and done. Plus it's not like we won't be suspicious of the chronic itching.

2. The right to bear birth control, and use it. Stop telling us it helps keep your face free of oil and whatever other crater formed on your face.

3. One may only sexile with consent of the 'xiled. (if there is no consent, best make sure the story is good the following day.)

4. It is unlawful for one to perform unreasonable search and seizure, afterall you're not there to read their 7th grade diary.

5. The right to not answer any self-incriminating questions (ex-talk, previous performance standards, etc.)

6. All last moment accusations/confessions are deferred to a rebuttal of wingmen/women in person or via cell phone. The next morning if needed.

7. Biting/scratching or whatever kinky junk floats your boat is acceptable once agreed upon, and above the waist.

8. Eliminating other potential hook ups because of relationship with one party is considered cruel and jealous (not unusual).

9. Negative rumors after the fact are disparaging and discouraged. Embarrassing moments are fair game.

10. Ex-sex is permitted, just remember dinner = dating.

Lingering Blog- Back Again

So sorry to those who check this and have been not entertained for the last month. I have made some changes and am about six weeks out of debuting a production of my own. This is much bigger than I thought as it has consumed most of my time and has taken me away from the stand up opportunities. Well that will change soon as well.

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Audition! Next Saturday 3/25/06

Want to be in a new improv show. The previous two man show I was in is expanding and will be hosting open casting calls on Saturday afternoon downtown. Please simply respond to this posting and I will be in touch. The time is from 3p-6p.

Take care.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Last Comic Standing

So I went to the audition. Did I audition no. 1. Apparently the swift character of the industry went ahead and gave out the applications to 100 people the night before. Sweet. Either that or the comic acquaintences that I have wanted me to get out of there. I didn't even go up to the coordinator because I realized something about the show that would prevent me from wanting it. It's too good to be true. To have a almost instant exposure could lead to mob rule in one's favor but also that ability to keep that attention of new found fans would be more than a customary challenge for a performer. I am not trying to pacify my non-audition but moreso admit to not being able to handle network contouring of portions of my career.

Instead I am working on putting up my own showcase and taking that around. Feel free to contact me for a potential show, proceeds are going to local charities near each venue.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006


I don't have much time to devote to this one. I certainly look forward to the day I have the clout to either shoot a friend and feel no repercussions or drive drunk, hit someone else and then take a year off from work. Justice is not necessary if criminals like these could just teach the other monkeys.

Sunday, February 12, 2006

Romantic Apathy

That's how you win their heart, spread it on, lose control, and most importantly- feel wanted. I went out on Saturday because I didn't want to. My friend was that and told me I should. We celebrated a birthday in a way that I never did before. We hopped bars with general formality and couldn't care more than the fact we all stood near eachother.

I went into three bars that night and was given the time of day with a number by women. Why? They sensed I was not there for them. The senses of women are strong. They can smell a man happy with the current point in life and become confused, since they are not involved in that joy.

They told me I was just like one of their good friends, who ironically was not with them that night. They told me that the purse I stood behind at the bar didn't match my shirt. I was quick to let them know that in fact it did match my shoes, and embarrasingly I do have under elements that match the leopard print purse. I was being full on checked out by a herd (accurate for a reason) group of women. Then one girl saw this made a joke and loved watching me be the meat for a change. I felt good about that girl but made no move since the only girl I wanted to speak with was at another bar. (Lesson of life #215- A chump commits to a non-existant/unshared romance)

We went to the other bar and life was fine. I should mention between the first and second there was a minor connection that made me deny any woman I saw in the next bar. I was asked again about being Irish (I have a jacket that says Dublin). Here's where the tables turn. Signs of flirting vary over time and then some drunken bump ups cause nothing but a false start on my part. I got the laugh to cover but now she was back in charge. Why? She backed off interest.

Romance is a delicous poison. We will turn on a room full of loved ones to find out why the person at the door is leaving. I am convinced that the best romantic philosophy is to let love fall into your life like a trust fund. Ride it into the ground or up the ladder.

Do you like to climb or to coast?

Saturday, February 11, 2006

Precious/Gay for it

Can someone explain to me why we are stuck in the mid 80's again? I have heard multiple stations playing Depeche Mode's Precious. Now I am on the verge of going to my Ticketmaster friends looking for Cure tickets as well. The song's not that great anyway. I appreciate manic-depressive music like the next Counting Crows fan but at least make it a bit more current with the times please.

I just went to i-tunes and they are doing a direct marketing for each user. Very smart. You bought x song, now try z song. So there is a play list of about 10 songs to buy just for me. Some I appreciate, some I have, some that make me a flamer. Apparently my past purchases of (I am sure of this) 80s ballads like Roxette, Total Eclipse of the Heart (Dan Band version as well and a couple more.

This comes to me at an ironic Valentine's timeframe. Did I buy the song? No because I have it already on a mix cd I found in college. Ran so far is not the song for me. The song that I am gay for now would have to be Check on it from Beyonce. I know it and am fine with it.

What song are you gay for? If you deny answering then you have more than musical weaknesses Sigfreid.

Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Best Trash Talk Ever

I was trash talking about playing my friend at work in racketball, a sport that I don't even know the rules. "I'll crush you." I said. He then replies, in the office mind you, "yeah, well I have the tendancy to hit people in the back of the head with the balls so watch out."

I'm still laughing.

Monday, January 30, 2006

In Da Club

So I returned to the health club for what I call resisting nature. Can't we all just get fat? I can't. Whenever my stomach hits the belt buckle and it leaves an indentation that rivals a cattle branding I realize it's time to slow down and only eat two donuts when someone buys them for work.

I arrived at a time when the pool was not open. So I went to the place of fitness masturbation, cardio-land. That crap doesn't do anything but allow you to run up the stairs to get another bowl of ice cream. Oh, also make you walk like an astronaut for 20 minutes after you get off.

The only spot I found was a grimy elliptical that was placed so well in between two tv's that I could only stare at the wall. Such a metaphor for life. Not to forget that fact I was in a mini purgatory for ommitting fitness from my life. Now I maybe in salvageable shape but it's scary. I can feel the looming presence of man boobs if I don't get my act together.

When I went to swim I finally went and made some strides in my workout. There is a poor time for lap swimming. Whenever there is open swim next to it. Not only do I feel like a Scooby Doo villian due to those meddling kids but I began to think about how something that was a symbol of pure bliss is now a gauntlet of exercise.

All we do in those damn clubs is just for the flicker of a chance to show how underestimated we were. Don't worry ladies you can pretend you have the matching personality that will make our jaws drop while we work on wowing you with something we can lift- with the help of a friend.

Sunday, January 29, 2006


I believe in fate. That's why I read my horroscope the day after.

TAURUS (April 20-May 20): It's totally normal to have feelings of escapism today. I can barely sit still to write this column. Take it easy, but try to indulge your need to explore the world more. Do something different. Go someplace you've never been to before. Talk to the animals.

The stars know all, see all, and tell all with pinpoint generalizations.

Pistol Toting Bachelorettes

Now that I have your attention, let me inform you that title is true. Last night I went out for a fine time at Chili's (that's how I turn it down a notch when I so am on fire). After that my friend and I hit the bar scene. Mistake one, we got there way too early. Mistake two, we spoke to a bachelorette party.

Why? It was a bizzarro world. For the first time in my life the ratio favored men at this oft-sausage hut. I had choices. CHOICES. Choices are dangerous. There were so many of them that I was able to literally know that abc plan route before we walked over there.

Within first minutes B was all about being friendly. Cool right? You bet mainly since I had my friend run wing man all night. So once I established the great relationship with B I asked her about A. Apparently, A was an immigrant and I shouted "no f---ing is she an immigrant!" Oh that was true. A looked like the middle child from 7th Heaven without the annoying need to talk so much. When I got to say hi to A she was leaving. She gave me her name and I thought she was clearing her throat. Broken English is cute/hot, but teaching the damn language is too much effort for bar love.

So back to B. Locked down. Full connection and she was cool, older but still digging me until he next drink was taken care of. Suddenly B was out of consideration because she got soaked up in the games of the night. Enter C. Yikes. The whole time metaphors went rampant. Eating vegetables I hate but know are good for me, batting cage practice, asking for more dental work. All of those options were how talking to her became.

The irony of these miscue's of romance are that we claim they are shallow and lack character to compel us to stay. Then we represent exactly that. She was a nice girl, just a complete mismatch again.

We were invited to the post bar party. That was so far away I began to thing an oasis would appear on the road. When we arrived at the house of what I thought was the house of one of the bride's friends I realized it was the fiance's house. Wonderful. He, mind you dressed in a wife beater, had a neo-Nazi shaved head with tattoos all over him. His friend was sporting his tattoos on the back of his neck, surely to commemorate his parole. Somehow we were welcomed in, that's right because it was a lion's den.

The next ten minutes I became acquainted with an albino pitbull. Now pitbulls are fierce, an albino is worse it feels it needs to prove its toughness. So we watched them (the girls too) wrestle the dog. Apparently this dog enjoyed being punched in the face. Something I think is a miscommunication between pet and owner. So much drama lead to a smoke break for many.

After walking back in from watching people smoke I was baptizes into the pits of hell. The bride was waving a .45 caliber pistol around while sitting at the kitchen counter. I would love to recall what she was hollering about but I was too concerned for their floor needing to be mopped. "It's not loaded." They claimed. Wow, that's good because I almost thought you were a freaking nut job. Actually, you are. Now, the party never hit the highs it could have since the fiance mentioned over and over that he didn't even have his shotgun with him at the house. Didn't he know that the guests would be coming over and would love to see the mental malitia's inventory. Could it still be in the evidence locker? Maybe.

It was at that point I was in Lord of the Flies mode, ready to let all the idiots kill themselves. All of the bachelorette parties I have seen at the bars have been memorable. This one was a dramatic interpretation to Pulp Fiction.

Bring in the Gimp.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

Extra Hand

If you would like to be given the most negative unsolicited advice, tell your inner circle that you are thinking of pursuing that person romantically or buying a car.

Fool proof foolry.

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Hype Sells

I saw King Kong about a week ago and I must say it was the most beautiful waste of my time in years. It's the new Titanic. The film takes about one hour to find the dumb monkey. Then was Peter decides to do is take twenty minutes from Jurassic Park and splice it in so that we can see, man, ape, and dinosaurs. Great job.

Besides every cliff looking like a copy from the trilogy of the Fellowship of the Ring, Peter Jackson's version just let the sour notes linger too long. Cliche little guy needs moral values spelled out by token black man. All principle characters avoid danger while others are picked off like bugs, and so on.

My big gripe of this all is Adrian Brody. Whoever thought manic depressive jumbo nosed drama man queens were the next big thing should turn off Bravo and let actors with testicles play the men. Now, I did like how poorly he was treated in the movie. However, I am still waiting for some bombshell to find my "inner beauty" and look past the protruding ears and freckles. It appeared as though his nose was getting bigger in each scene.

My question is whose nose is more gangly, awkward, or simply bigger? Adrian Brody or Ashlee Simpson? Imagine if they procreated. The kid would have a schnoz the size of a door knob. I really shouldn't judge since afterall, my nostrils are contoured up making me look like I can score blow quicker than Robert Downey Jr.

Robert Downey Jr, now there's an actor. America's alley cat, but hell of an actor.

Sunday, January 01, 2006

The Case of Vengeful Sausage/Second Place Again

Friday night I enjoyed what I thought to be a polish sausage and order of cheese fries. I was mistaken. This working man's feast was a toxic voyage waiting to happen. I went to bed with aspirations of one of my favorite holidays pending. Suddenly I wake, doubting what symptoms I feel I move to the bathroom for precaution. Sure enough I vomitted. So began my experience of food poising.

I will spare you from the nitty gritty details of how sick I was. Take it from me, food posioning is as close to going into detox; in my opinion. As I lay on my bed a couple hours before the party shuttle (me) is to get a move on, I wonder what exactly I did to piss God off so much.

The calls from my friends came in, I explained that I would be a game time decision of questionable for this well planned event. What was surprising to me was that when I mentioned I thought it was food poisoning they all asked what I ate. I said a polish sausage. All of them, came back with an "ooh told you so" tone saying "a polish sausage will get you all the time." Since when was one encased meat biproduct more prone to bacterial infection than another? Word to the wise no more polish sausage.

We get to the hotel, sweet as hell- that's how I roll. My friends go out for a snack while I try to die in the room. Once time comes we head over to the bar for the party. Enter the frustration point of my life. I arranged for my friends to come to a place where for 5 hours we can drink all the micro beer or wine we want, eat as much pizza and hang out yet I can't stomach a thing.

To make matters worse, my friend went above and beyond to mention me to one of his girlfriend's single friends. She was there, beautiful, single, smart, likes drinking, personable, and I couldn't bear more than some basic small talk fearing that my body would break down from the food poisoning. I watched her kiss some other dude at midnight and was rendered helpless. It was kind of like when I went into surgery and the sedation made my body unresponsive to what my brain was thinking. Hopefully she didn't really like that guy. My only saving grace with her is that she invited me to a brunch (which I didn't attend for obvious reasons).

The evening was rather anti-climatic for a number of reasons. I was such a spectator to it all. Prior to this night I pondered the attire choices. I know that 90% of the men would be in striped shirts. I was correct. I was not. I almost was going to wear a shirt that said "why aren't you married yet?" That's what I saw last night. Gone are the days when you could look a girl in the eyes and see her looking for someone that can get her another drink and go have fun. Now the majority of the females have the look poised for husbands.

It was only a matter of time before the hunter becomes the hunted.