Monday, January 31, 2005

Glory Days

Perhaps the most annoying thing for me this morning was one of the most painful moments in a parent's life. I don't know what it is about the school bus that simply bothers me. Don't get me wrong, I think children should walk everywhere too, that way we don't have to wonder why they get dad's hand-me-downs by age 9.

It is fun to watch them pile into the bus eager for education or to my recollection, chocolate milk. There should be some timer or cattle prod or declining aisle that gets them to plant their butts in the seats pronto. I don't think that kids have attention disorders that is all the blame of the parents who rather watch HBO than entertain the result of their entertaining eachother.

Something needs to be said about the distance between bus stops. It seems as though every block is a school bus stop. Here is another tragic truth. I see it a bit extreme for all cars in a two block radius to have to freeze and wait for these money pits to cross the street.

I remember that the cool kids always sit in the back of the bus. The barometer of social acceptance was directly proportional to the seating arrangement. Strangly enough, I was typically on the bump. There was a point in our history lesson of civil rights that I realized why the white culture will never be what the black culture is already. When I heard that the black people were forced to sit in the back of the bus I was shocked. Never before have I seen it a matter this black and white. Whites were just declaring how lame they were by wanting the seat closest to the driver.

Public transportation is good for two things. 1 Alleviating traffic. 2. Making one feel immensely more attractive than other people around you.

Sunday, January 30, 2005

I'd Like to Cower to the Manager Please

What a weekend. My Friday was so spectacular and informative. I learned that my Playstation 2 has a higher intelligence than I do. This lesson made its way to me somewhere in the 30th minute of me trying to jump up and get a box that had the one remaining item for the initial level of Jak and Daxter. This was such a valuable lesson that I retired early to prepare for the bustling Saturday.

I am very pleased to announce the besides the improv troupe MICETRO (pronounced Mice- tro) which plays Wednesdays at the Breadline Theater @ 8pm, 1802 Berenice (Brown line stop of Irving Park, Ravenswood to Berenice) I will be starting up a new improv duo. My pal Bill and I are both tall and well modestly speaking, dreamy improvers. We like to call ourselves, The Inseam Asylum.

With all that being said look for an promotional barrage of flyers, radio plugs and most likely a Tonight Show appearance. That is to say if Bill and I are not billed as follow ups to Steve Erwin. This should be a great time and I look forward to making you all laugh as The Inseam Asylum.


There is a little sports bar/market place near my friend Rob's. It is called Hawkeyes. I used to think that this was a cool place to go to but I have recently learned that I would rather drink around a flaming garbage can than go there. It has turned into this farm system for Ed Debevics. Each waitress I have had really missed the concept of serving.

Let's get this straight too. I no longer have pity on wait staff. I used to think that they had it tough and that they all started at Denny's so I should be kind to encourage them on in their illustrious career. With recent events leaving me more than sour about service, I no longer feel obliged to tip well. When I have a bad day, call or whatever, the customer usually just hangs up and goes back to thinking about themselves. I get it, you want to be a dancer, actor, comedian, baby's momma, whatever. Don't be rude and take it out on the innocent customers when you finally realize an English degree should have come standard with an IHOP apron.

Don't get me wrong, IHOP is a wonderful place that I could only imagine to someday be fired and then hired at. I just get a bit frustrated when people play the victim and more times than not they are the assailant as well. I have experienced some wonderful wait help. They truly can make this a career because someday they'll be working in that Signature Room atop the JHC.

But not the chach that helped us. I ordered nachos (of course) with only cheese, salsa, and sour cream. She comes back with a plate of nachos with everything on it. Since I was drinking long before, my courtesy filter was removed. Before she even had the chance to put the plate down I told her the order was wrong. She then replied with "did you really? Are you sure?" Listen nimrod, agree with me and you'll make more than $3 this hour ok?

She then asked "can I just scrape it off so that the chef doesn't have to make another one?" This is not a lasagna or anything that requires effort. I ordered something a stoner could make. Chips, cheese, pour salsa, and glob some sour cream on it. Now I fully understand the 30 minute wait for nachos. I mentioned that I had a "slight allergic reaction to olives." She still only scraped off.

What made the night the best was that Eileen, a sweet petite Hawiian (not Samoan if you're wondering) just reemed the manager a new one. Meanwhile Rob and I stared at our place settings. I told Rob that with Eileen's assertion, and our timidness I could actually detect my genitals becoming inverted. It was almost so bad that I walked home with a purse.

I suppose it's all about equal rights, right? This was the woman's time to stand up for her man, and his friend's nachos. Yep, definitely that, we were definitely not being dill holes.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

Weren't You Supposed to Die?

On August 1, 1981 a little conceptual tv channel proclaimed the end of the radio and the start of a revolution. Well, almost 25 years later we are still pumping out the same music on the radio. I love many types of music but like most things it's in moderation that keep the enjoyment around.

I am convinced that right now if you were to turn on the radio you would hear one of the following songs.
Led Zepplin- Black Dog
Lynard Skynard- Free Bird
Green Day- Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Avril Lavigne- Happy Ending
and any rap song about things that are shiny.

Radio is the catch 22 that we all love to complain about. How often will a new song come on the radio and you change it within the first twenty seconds? The average song on the radio is only about 3 minutes. That's it. In the time it takes for the car in front of you to merge completely over one lane the song will be over. Do we listen? Sometimes but often times not. The reason is simple. No one wants to willingly leave their comfort level on such a regular basis.

Another concern I have about radio is that it still has such an impact on people's lives. I found myself frantic over a contest for a radio station. Then I realized to what capacity of a dueche bag I have become. Morning shows are something I loathe for the reason that I am a conversation orphan. When I enter a gathering with people already there, I feel like all that I am doing is standing within peripheral vision of everyone while they carry on deliberately steering conversation away from my bastard social life.


I left the comfort zone this week. The thing about leaving your comfort zone is that you really don't know what it is until you feel horribly uncomfortable. Apparently my comfort zone was a private shower. When I went to the YMCA this week I had to shower before work, common coutesy. Upon enter the locker room I knew that this was going to be ackward for a couple reasons. 1. I have that huge bruise on my thigh that shows the rest of the inmates that I am able to be conquered. 2. I have realized that with age women hate the sagging while men are ok with it. There will always be the desire for our areas to actually be hitting the floor. 3. I'm not gay. Pyschiatrists claim that we all experience moments where we contemplate alterior sexualities. Well, when entering a shower stall full of farmer tanned new year's resolutions made me long for even a Wisconsin woman.

Never have I taken a quicker shower in my life. Consequentially, never have I stared at one ceramic tile for an entire rinse, lather and rinse cycle. I know that I am griping about the YMCA of all places but still I felt like I was breaking into a Mason's meeting or something.

I would like to meet the person that ruined my chance at a shower divider. Not in public man, not in public.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

Where Has the Tallest Blog Been?

Let me tell you that 2005 has been more than eventful. This blur of highs and lows are something that I would like to explain.

Since the last entry, two whole weeks ago, I have...
1. Recieved approximately 456 different opinions on the reasons I should own or rent a property
2. Been consumed by the beast that is known as "the day job"
3. Fallen down a flight of stairs, don't worry I'll expound soon
4. Won two games of Cranium-Primo Edition
5. Used my YMCA membership
6. Reached an all time high for dispisement of radio personalities.

Let's dig a bit deeper on some of these shall we.

So I have been approved for a decent sized mortgage. The catch is that it doesn't really give me the leverage to live in the city. Nothing like getting the nerve to speak to the hot girl at the party and she quickly says that your car isn't nice enough, but you can date her plain Jane friend. Do you go out just to go out? No. Do you tell the girl that you're willing to trade in the car for a sweeter ride? No. Like many situations, there are only wrong answers that are more right than the other. At least most of my friends and family commend me for my efforts with a hybrid of pity and respect.

How's the job? That's what people ask me more than "when are you moving out?" The job is great. I finally found a career that is directly proportional to my romantic life. Within moments of a great achievement somehow a great oversight is found. I look at it like kindergarten, I still get graded on effort and soon they will let me go to the bathroom by myself.
Scary truth. Since my arrival I have come accross FIVE personel changes. A few have been the success route, and then there are the "not the right fit" nonsense. Also, in my efforts to help people find employment I have come across the best demonstration that government programming is being abused. "I have an employment opportunity for you _______. It lasts for about a month and pays $11/hr." They say to me "I can't take that job because it will disrupt my eligibility for unemployment." Isn't that the point of ME? To find a job for you and thus interrupt your unemployment. That alone gives me reason to support eight years of Republican leadership to purge any bedwetting program.

As I went looking for condos (owning is a great thing) I looked at some studios. Why studios? Well the answer for that is two part. 1. The aforementioned mortgage I have is "modest" at best. 2. Per the analysis from others my social life and activity does not deem necessary more than 500 square feet of living space. The kithen area is manageable with the posh counter top dining area for me to pull a chair up next to all my photos of my friends that wish I had a one bedroom. There really is no need for another chair since I have no friends to begin with, nor would there be room for more than one and a third to be in there.

I was walking down the fire stairwell as the forth floor door was locked. Now as I was moderately gripping the metal railing, I thought to myself, "good thing you're holding on to the railing, you don't want to... And as I said "slip" to myself, my ass went out underneath me. I flew over the next two steps and slid (as natural as steps allow) down the next three to be halted by the brick wall. Fortunately for me, my left thigh, wrist, and ankle can support my entire body weight. My first words to the realitor were "my benefits don't start for another two weeks."

I've started drinking again.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

It's Not You, it's the Ungodly Bad Photo of You

Don't knock it until you try it they say. Well it has been tried and now I shall knock it down like the Berlin Wall of pretentious ideals. One of my work buddies told me that he has been dating someone for over a year. They met online. A storied love affair I am sure, Nothing short of Tom and Meg in the Emerald City.

Well upon the fascinating tale of his and the renewed blind hope for romance I figured it was my time. As I pioneered into the merky waters of online "dating" I began to realize how long and how cold the other side of the bed will be. Nothing could have prepared me for the deepest well of shovel faces and cat lovers.

No matter how genuine the profile is that one writes it is overshadowed with horrible cliche headlines like "jokester looking to be serious with right one." At that point I could actually feel my testicles retreating from any form of masculinity.

My brief tenure in this field did have two returns. One actually wrote in broken English. When looking for someone within 40 miles of my location apparently the RUSSIAN FEDERATION is right next door. The next girl was really sweet and showed interest in meeting and such but I probably screwed something up like leaving without even telling her I was. A regular casanova I know.

I decided that it really was in my best interest to fail, or be rejected in person so that my other friends can get some form of enjoyment out of it. Never selfish, always lame that's my mo.

No one mentions that if you try to leave that the service will offer you the program at a cheaper rate. I knew I had to stay strong when I was face to screen breaking up with my online relationship server. After choosing one of the staple reasons for departure, there is a box for an explanation. Never has my computer told me "...but I just don't get it. Things were going great."

For those who would never know how to break up with their online cattle match finder let me show you how it is done. The following is verbaitim what I wrote to them.

The ammount of time that I need to invest into starting a relationship is something that I prefer to do at my leisure and without the financial commitment tied to a clientel that I can't find compatible with myself. I tried this upon recommendation of a friend and am glad he found success here. Fortunately, I can cut my losses as a few hours and a full refund. Thanks for trying though.

That's right, full refund. Go ahead and try it just do what I do and back out within the 14-day trial period. There is always a loop hole in life, just not a looker.

Sunday, January 09, 2005

Move it Along

As I stepped out of class today to possibly the best two-day parking space high, I watched as a Dodge hit a Mercedes. No one was hurt so I think but it all happened so suddenly and without a glimpse of general care by the people around them. Safety in numbers I suppose, if the fifty people closest to me don't care I suppose it's alright for me to not care either.

This recent snow storm has given me great reason to find a place to live with a parking space off the street. I would imagine the plow driver to move through the side streets thinking- well that Toyota better be waking up early or there is no chance of getting to work on time.

While I was driving this past weekend I have reconfirmed the fact that I very well am one of the worst drivers on the road. After nearly getting into a couple accidents last night I had to tell myself that it may be time to let go of the trademark merge then look maneuver.

That is something that amazing to me. When on the highway people are zooming around like it's a Nascar race. However, when the time comes to switch lanes I and many others do the breaking merge. Nothing says thank you to the car behind me like an immediate 15 mile an hour drop in my speed.

I miss my interaction with the toll booth operators. Now that I-pass is up and running I will never again get to see those faces that look like a mix of any radio personality and Eeyor. At first I didn't realize why toll booth folk were wearing the rubber gloves and then moments before I handed my change to them I sneezed and it became suddenly clear to me.

Sometimes I wish we still rode horses.

Monday, January 03, 2005

If You Wondered Why I am Single...

This is it. No more excuses. We have one chance to conquer all goals this year. I am speaking to my fellow Roosters, according to the Chinese calendar. I fell like its the summer of George all over again. Hopefully this bodes better than that did. I made a list of 45 things to do this year and I just got one done. Three days in and I am already making my mark.

Granted these goals range from the superb to the dorky like beating Madden. As I have just become Superbowl Champs moments ago I take a moment to ponder how I got to where I now sit. Oh yeah, there were dark times. After training camp, Edgerrin James broke his ankle and was out 9 weeks. At one point we lost three straight games. Focus and poise carried us through and he became Superbowl MVP.

Like Abe Lincoln said, "whether you think you can or you can't, you're right." Sure it may seem a bit trivial to merge that life lesson to Madden video games, but lifes lessons come from the strangest places sometimes. I plan on going out on top and will not ever play another season of Madden myself unless I get a room mate that wants to play.


My new years went rather well. I got to hang out with my friends Brian and Brad. The beauty of our parties is that we know going into it that it very well may blow. Somehow, I had a great time drinking beer, eating cups of jello shots, and playing beer pong. No I am not in college anymore but still love doing that. What was mystical about the night was that there was not a damn bit of drama. I attribute that to all the women there being engaged or married.

Dear Young Attractive Women,

STOP GETTING ENGAGED. If you're that horny and equally afraid of std's then just be more selective with people and more liberal with toys. This infestation of attractive young women being abducted under the pretense of diamonds and lifelong happiness is just fowl.

I understand that it is vital to keep up with the Jones's but for the love of God slow it down. Trust me, someone will still want to have sex with you after you are thirty. Just not as many people.

If you do feel the urge to get married/engaged, please move to the suburbs. That is what they are for. There are too many of you married ladies running around the city while your husbands are still looking for parking.

Here is my last comment if you have been dating for a while. You MUST allow each of your boyfriends closest friends/brother to date one of your friends. Simply that will give you some breathing space. Plus we're all tired of sitting across the room while they wish for a guy to take them out. What's the worse thing that could happen? They will be thoroughly disappointed. Not like that wasn't going to happen. At least then you could laugh about it when all go out after the fling fizzles. Nothing like romantic futility to fossilize the conversation.

Finally, since there is equality choose one of the following and stick to it;
1. never paying for dinner
2. an engagement ring
3. that evasive orgasm
4. unconditional love

The choice is yours, as is the first round of drinks.