Day 4 had a lot of things packed into it. I'll start at night as most of this vacation did. We went to one of my favorite Spanish restraunts Jaleo and had some tapas. Big horizon expansion because of Paul. He ordered monk fish with egg plant. That is something that is as eqaully impressive to eat as it is to order. That is nothing to what was the main course- partying with some AU law students.
I always hear that law students work so hard and make very precious moments of the free time they have. Well by about 11 the bar was packed with people convinced of their need to reed the thickest books ever. I enjoyed the fact that there were blow pops and licorice at the bar for those on E.
I knew that law students are damn smart but when did they have some of the hottest women? Blew my mind that these attractive women someday want to practice law. Sexist? No, I am glad to see the smart and sexy combination somewhere else besides on the WB.
Here is the sub plot. Our hotel bathroom was horrible. Flushing was a purely at the discretion of the toilet. That made for difficult times when one needed to take a read. With that being said I had to go. At the club. You can't go at the club. No one can. Men are given a 20-35 second grace period for any bathroom break. Women, roughly a day and a half. I thought I could make it quick, and well that was again not to be in the cards as the knock at the door was more ominous than any a law enforcement official could make. I played the rest of the night at half speed.
Prior to and after that break I met a girl that was 1. very attractive 2. wanting to talk and 3. a law student with a sense of compassion. I had to talk with this girl. She wanted to leave shortly because of her being "tired and broke." Alright pumpkin I can pick up on that code. -Would you like me to buy you a drink? "Sure." Now this is a test here. When anyone asks to buy your next drink you should pick A) what you have been dying to try at the bar B) anything that is top shelf to show class C) what you could afford if buying next.
C. The answer is C. But that's ok. I bought a great round of high end bourbon and talked with a sweet girl that honestly would have not. I made her laugh and she gave me her number and invitation to a party all on her own accord. Who knows how long the night could have went if her ride had not given her the witching hour look. Then again she may have just been looking for a ride home.
Looks like I should have bought one more bourbon. I am so bad at picking up signals.
Monday, October 10, 2005
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Vac-Ay Day 3 Review: Over Under pt 1
So the day started much quicker than planned, for I checked my flight and low and behold I did not have the 10:10 am flight. I had the 6:45 am flight. What a moron. Fortunately that was not a problem to get to. So I land at Reagan at like 9:30am and realize that well I am 2 and a half hours ahead of schedule. There is only one way to compensate that extra time- I took the bus.
So I am outside Union Station and I see a smoking girl. Nice way to start the trip, eye candy for all. Trick or Treat is the question. We end up going on the bus together. Red flag #1 attractive people never use mass transit. Never. They've got bitches to drive them places. So here's the kicker... she's deaf. She ended up chatting/ signing with another deaf man on the bus. A pure love connection I am sure. It lead me to my first quandry of the trip- would you ever have sex with a deaf person? Lights on would have to be accomodating in the slightest.
The hotel. Expedia ranked it as a 1.5 star hotel. That's no good. It was $70 a night and between three people it was cheaper than a round of drinks. Located on the north east side with the rest of the government programmed citizens, this crap hole was painted a mild pastel green.
Upon entering I see a nice marble floor. Sweet! Then I look up to see the plexiglass encassed front desk lead by former 7 eleven management. I take the elevator up (noticed it was last inspected in 2003 to be up to code) to my room that should have been rented by the hour.
When all my friends get there, they praise my internet booking savvy. I go to relax on the chair in the corner but I fall right through it. The pool was under renovation as well.
~~~~~~
So then came the drinks. A couple martinis, a Jameson shot that came out Jaeger, then a couple beers and then some chow. After making an impromptu bar crawl in DC we went to the Mad Hatter. I love that place. We loaded up on Coronas and began a joint effort to annoy people.
We played over under on the collective age of a group of people. I got it right on. Then this older gal comes over flirtatiously - "why didn't you guess my age?" I began to tell myself- because you too goddamn old looking. I told her we went in groups of three. She insisted on having me guess her age. HORRIBLE IDEA! Figuring I was not planning on getting with her I said 26. She was 24. I waited for a drink in my face.
Nope. She told me that she is trying to look older for her new job. Probably with the AARP. So I realize the opportunity to practice my bar interaction. I invite her to sit and chat. She introduced herself as blah blah blah. Humbly I know that she wanted attention that night. But I was on to her antics. She is one of those girls that pull their pants up past the waist to make it look like they have a smaller waist line. Be true ladies. And if you want to look older, I thought it was common knowledge to put your hair in a bun and button shirt all the way up.
Playing over under with a group that doesn't want to play is a great way to come off as a dick- or in their opinion, people from New York. They asked if we were from there. We said no and listed from all over we were, and then took the over under on how many of them were going in to work the next morning.
So I am outside Union Station and I see a smoking girl. Nice way to start the trip, eye candy for all. Trick or Treat is the question. We end up going on the bus together. Red flag #1 attractive people never use mass transit. Never. They've got bitches to drive them places. So here's the kicker... she's deaf. She ended up chatting/ signing with another deaf man on the bus. A pure love connection I am sure. It lead me to my first quandry of the trip- would you ever have sex with a deaf person? Lights on would have to be accomodating in the slightest.
The hotel. Expedia ranked it as a 1.5 star hotel. That's no good. It was $70 a night and between three people it was cheaper than a round of drinks. Located on the north east side with the rest of the government programmed citizens, this crap hole was painted a mild pastel green.
Upon entering I see a nice marble floor. Sweet! Then I look up to see the plexiglass encassed front desk lead by former 7 eleven management. I take the elevator up (noticed it was last inspected in 2003 to be up to code) to my room that should have been rented by the hour.
When all my friends get there, they praise my internet booking savvy. I go to relax on the chair in the corner but I fall right through it. The pool was under renovation as well.
~~~~~~
So then came the drinks. A couple martinis, a Jameson shot that came out Jaeger, then a couple beers and then some chow. After making an impromptu bar crawl in DC we went to the Mad Hatter. I love that place. We loaded up on Coronas and began a joint effort to annoy people.
We played over under on the collective age of a group of people. I got it right on. Then this older gal comes over flirtatiously - "why didn't you guess my age?" I began to tell myself- because you too goddamn old looking. I told her we went in groups of three. She insisted on having me guess her age. HORRIBLE IDEA! Figuring I was not planning on getting with her I said 26. She was 24. I waited for a drink in my face.
Nope. She told me that she is trying to look older for her new job. Probably with the AARP. So I realize the opportunity to practice my bar interaction. I invite her to sit and chat. She introduced herself as blah blah blah. Humbly I know that she wanted attention that night. But I was on to her antics. She is one of those girls that pull their pants up past the waist to make it look like they have a smaller waist line. Be true ladies. And if you want to look older, I thought it was common knowledge to put your hair in a bun and button shirt all the way up.
Playing over under with a group that doesn't want to play is a great way to come off as a dick- or in their opinion, people from New York. They asked if we were from there. We said no and listed from all over we were, and then took the over under on how many of them were going in to work the next morning.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Vac-Ay Day 2 Review: Whoa! That's Heavy Doc
I am mentally exhausted. I just watched three movies back to back to back. They are some of the most challenging films made in the past few years. I started with Million Dollar Baby, then Crash, and closed with Mullholland Dr. My mind is mashed potatos and well I love it.
Million Dollar Baby- I spent a good portion of time realizing that I would see this film and intentially skipped any review. What a message to deliver. My hat is way off to Clint on that one. There is something about having Morgan Freeman narrate. I would like him to be my voicemail recording. So dramatic and pensive at the same time. It would be impossible to leave me a mean message with the soothing voice of Morgan "the gate keeper" Freeman there. Overall, Oscars were deserved. Four stars and big tip- not a date movie.
Crash- do not rent this movie. Buy it. I am convinced I will watch it a few more times this year alone. There are so many rich characters that you can't focus on them all. It's not possible. Again, the message told here pushes racial issues, fears, and stereotypes. If you watch this movie and are not moved to evaluate yourself and how you treat others, go put on your Sunday's best since you're dead to the world. Even some bubblegum chick could pick something up from this. Hell Sandra Bullock and Brandan Frasier are in it- and don't ruin it. Finally some director understood that if you needed them to show more affection they would randomly start to fall all over the place. Five stars and big tip- this is one of the heaviest messages that is easiest to pick up. Did I mention Tony Danza has a cameo? That is a Vac-Ay Day 2 moment to remember.
Mullholland Dr. - If you want you mind to be violated and left to stare at itself then rent this immediately. Possible owning film and not just because of the lesbian encounters on film. Although I am theorizing that those scenes helped push Oscar consideration. "The cinematography was great in the Peter Weir movie." "Yes, but there was no girl on girl action." "True."
This film pushes themes of Hollywood, and well personal advancement and the price we will pay. Painted vaguely clear with a surrealistic brush this movie earned so much respect even more so in the final thirty minutes. Four stars and big tip- this is not a family night movie. I take that back, if you went to private school bring this home to let your folks know what really happens.
And I did it all without Netflix. That company will crumble like the rest once this internet fad has gone away.
Million Dollar Baby- I spent a good portion of time realizing that I would see this film and intentially skipped any review. What a message to deliver. My hat is way off to Clint on that one. There is something about having Morgan Freeman narrate. I would like him to be my voicemail recording. So dramatic and pensive at the same time. It would be impossible to leave me a mean message with the soothing voice of Morgan "the gate keeper" Freeman there. Overall, Oscars were deserved. Four stars and big tip- not a date movie.
Crash- do not rent this movie. Buy it. I am convinced I will watch it a few more times this year alone. There are so many rich characters that you can't focus on them all. It's not possible. Again, the message told here pushes racial issues, fears, and stereotypes. If you watch this movie and are not moved to evaluate yourself and how you treat others, go put on your Sunday's best since you're dead to the world. Even some bubblegum chick could pick something up from this. Hell Sandra Bullock and Brandan Frasier are in it- and don't ruin it. Finally some director understood that if you needed them to show more affection they would randomly start to fall all over the place. Five stars and big tip- this is one of the heaviest messages that is easiest to pick up. Did I mention Tony Danza has a cameo? That is a Vac-Ay Day 2 moment to remember.
Mullholland Dr. - If you want you mind to be violated and left to stare at itself then rent this immediately. Possible owning film and not just because of the lesbian encounters on film. Although I am theorizing that those scenes helped push Oscar consideration. "The cinematography was great in the Peter Weir movie." "Yes, but there was no girl on girl action." "True."
This film pushes themes of Hollywood, and well personal advancement and the price we will pay. Painted vaguely clear with a surrealistic brush this movie earned so much respect even more so in the final thirty minutes. Four stars and big tip- this is not a family night movie. I take that back, if you went to private school bring this home to let your folks know what really happens.
And I did it all without Netflix. That company will crumble like the rest once this internet fad has gone away.
Vac-Ay Day 1 Review: Open Wide and Swing Away
Sweet Christ is it nice to be on vacation. Never from the blog though. So Monday was day one and it was frankly delicious. I went to visit a good friend of mine and he was even open to procrastinating on his Phd work. Now that's a friend.
I arrived at about midnight and was quick to be introduced to the keg-o-rator that we gave for his wedding present. With wifey out of town there was not a contrary thought to a midnight beer. It was grand, even for Budlight.
Waking up at umm 10:00am was another treat. See this is the inverse week here. Instead of working 50+ hrs it is quite possible that I will sleep 50+ hours. That plus the array of friends I plan on catching up with, and plenty of boozing will only let the golden era continue on. There is something we need to talk about.
Life is so stressful for all of us who are not on marijuana. We need a release right? Well after my banana bread breakfast (alliteration 5 pts) we then went to do what any mature guys would do at 10:45 in the morning- we went to play home run derby. Now my slider with the whiffel ball is still freak nasty but alas, no bite. My friend damn near tripped on the sinker though.
The problem there was that the bat and ball were in my trunk the majority of the summer and thus were softer than the top of Bush's head. We switched out to tennis balls and well the Tall Lanky Bastard brought out what is called in the yard, the lumber. I was not all offense either, my little league all star form returned to pitch three solid innings with only three earned runs. A battle of rivals to only be seen on a Monday morning with a stellar crowd of a scary shirtless running man, and a eerie girl that was a bit too big for the swings at the playground.
When men finish a hard fought competition there is only one place to go for postgame recaps- Steak n' Shake. There is something about getting your shake served to you by a girl that makes R Kelly find an aliby, Does anyone know if excessive eyeliner is in the dress code for employees there? Diner goth is so hot!
Back to the matter at hand. Flavor fest. This joint has really focused on the shakes of late and that is a plus since the meals are something that rival my college cafeteria. I had the best shake in years. A strawberry fudge cheesecake shake. Fan-freaking-tastic. Taste was true to name, just without the hassle of chewing. So good, so good. You know when you had something special when you burp hours later and can still revel in that taste in the back of your mouth. (don't be grossed out- you know what I am saying.)
The big lesson to be learned from yesterday (besides to not let a curve ball hang out there in front of me - damn!) was that one most be responsible enough to realize being irresponsible is necessary too. Of course that is best in moderation, with friends around, beer, and while the wife is out of town.
I arrived at about midnight and was quick to be introduced to the keg-o-rator that we gave for his wedding present. With wifey out of town there was not a contrary thought to a midnight beer. It was grand, even for Budlight.
Waking up at umm 10:00am was another treat. See this is the inverse week here. Instead of working 50+ hrs it is quite possible that I will sleep 50+ hours. That plus the array of friends I plan on catching up with, and plenty of boozing will only let the golden era continue on. There is something we need to talk about.
Life is so stressful for all of us who are not on marijuana. We need a release right? Well after my banana bread breakfast (alliteration 5 pts) we then went to do what any mature guys would do at 10:45 in the morning- we went to play home run derby. Now my slider with the whiffel ball is still freak nasty but alas, no bite. My friend damn near tripped on the sinker though.
The problem there was that the bat and ball were in my trunk the majority of the summer and thus were softer than the top of Bush's head. We switched out to tennis balls and well the Tall Lanky Bastard brought out what is called in the yard, the lumber. I was not all offense either, my little league all star form returned to pitch three solid innings with only three earned runs. A battle of rivals to only be seen on a Monday morning with a stellar crowd of a scary shirtless running man, and a eerie girl that was a bit too big for the swings at the playground.
When men finish a hard fought competition there is only one place to go for postgame recaps- Steak n' Shake. There is something about getting your shake served to you by a girl that makes R Kelly find an aliby, Does anyone know if excessive eyeliner is in the dress code for employees there? Diner goth is so hot!
Back to the matter at hand. Flavor fest. This joint has really focused on the shakes of late and that is a plus since the meals are something that rival my college cafeteria. I had the best shake in years. A strawberry fudge cheesecake shake. Fan-freaking-tastic. Taste was true to name, just without the hassle of chewing. So good, so good. You know when you had something special when you burp hours later and can still revel in that taste in the back of your mouth. (don't be grossed out- you know what I am saying.)
The big lesson to be learned from yesterday (besides to not let a curve ball hang out there in front of me - damn!) was that one most be responsible enough to realize being irresponsible is necessary too. Of course that is best in moderation, with friends around, beer, and while the wife is out of town.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
This Just In
My cousin passed the bar. Congrats to him and beware Illinois you know not the wrath of articulation bottled up over the past eight years of higher education. This is a great moment. I sure hope he has been rockin the scotch. I know I will.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Unofficialy the Best Cab Ride Ever
***Writer's Note: This entry contains strong content that may if read over your shoulder by your boss, pastor, rabbi, or grandmother could result in a lecture, time out, fine, finger pointing, excessive questioning, or even termination- of internet provider. That being said hop on in.
Saturday marked the one year anniversary of one of the finest blocks by a friend on me. That moment was a great and always revisited memory. I am thouroughly convinced that the reminising is far better than any shared moment with that girl. One year later her helter went away and she was sporting a sophisticated black tank low cut top and some crazy red vinyl/leather skirt. I didn't say hello it just wasn't right with my friend not being there to help destruct the night.
After leaving that fine establishment we partook in one more beer before realizing how much shorter the night should have been. We grabbed a cab. And within a moment I met the best cab driver ever that took us on the most memorable mile and a half ride.
His name Pedro. Maybe you know him. He drove a fine cab, the kind you would send your mother to the airport in. However this was no trip to the airport. We were in route for pizza and fast. Now I exchange words with him before getting into the cab. "Thank God you're not Yellow Cab!" He replies "Yeah, I know. Tell me about it."
Pedro and I apparently share the same affliction for Yellow Cab and I must have been that safe zone he was looking to voice his opinion. "They fuckin' suck." "The drivers are rude and don't know how to drive" Now I was not looking to partake in that debate but I sure as hell was ready to hate on Yellow Cab. Fortunately, Pedro was able to do all the talking.
When Pedro took a second to catch his breath I mentioned how cool he was to tell it how it is. I then up the anty. "Pedro, I will pay you an extra $2 if you tell a Yellow Cab driver "fuck Yellow Cab." "No problem man, I hate Yellow Cab!"
Then Pedro did something not every cabbie does. He opened up. That man needed a hug I swear. "See, I see so much when I drive, and no one know what I see, but I see it all. There is no reason for you to stay with any woman you meet at any of these bars, at this hour. They are after your money and will take your will to live." (or something close to that) "I am a social observer, I don't just watch the traffic lights, I see people being manipulated and being taken to the cleaners..."
The cab stops. I wonder why.
"Hey boss!" Pedro shouts at of all things a Yellow Cab driver. The Yellow Cab stops in it's tracks. Pedro sticks his head out the window and screams "Fuck Yellow Cab!!!"
For two dollars I learned I was not alone. For two dollars I saw a man finally speak his mind. For two dollars we laughed our asses off for a reason that was so trivial we needed to focus on it.
Life is well worth the price of admission.
Saturday marked the one year anniversary of one of the finest blocks by a friend on me. That moment was a great and always revisited memory. I am thouroughly convinced that the reminising is far better than any shared moment with that girl. One year later her helter went away and she was sporting a sophisticated black tank low cut top and some crazy red vinyl/leather skirt. I didn't say hello it just wasn't right with my friend not being there to help destruct the night.
After leaving that fine establishment we partook in one more beer before realizing how much shorter the night should have been. We grabbed a cab. And within a moment I met the best cab driver ever that took us on the most memorable mile and a half ride.
His name Pedro. Maybe you know him. He drove a fine cab, the kind you would send your mother to the airport in. However this was no trip to the airport. We were in route for pizza and fast. Now I exchange words with him before getting into the cab. "Thank God you're not Yellow Cab!" He replies "Yeah, I know. Tell me about it."
Pedro and I apparently share the same affliction for Yellow Cab and I must have been that safe zone he was looking to voice his opinion. "They fuckin' suck." "The drivers are rude and don't know how to drive" Now I was not looking to partake in that debate but I sure as hell was ready to hate on Yellow Cab. Fortunately, Pedro was able to do all the talking.
When Pedro took a second to catch his breath I mentioned how cool he was to tell it how it is. I then up the anty. "Pedro, I will pay you an extra $2 if you tell a Yellow Cab driver "fuck Yellow Cab." "No problem man, I hate Yellow Cab!"
Then Pedro did something not every cabbie does. He opened up. That man needed a hug I swear. "See, I see so much when I drive, and no one know what I see, but I see it all. There is no reason for you to stay with any woman you meet at any of these bars, at this hour. They are after your money and will take your will to live." (or something close to that) "I am a social observer, I don't just watch the traffic lights, I see people being manipulated and being taken to the cleaners..."
The cab stops. I wonder why.
"Hey boss!" Pedro shouts at of all things a Yellow Cab driver. The Yellow Cab stops in it's tracks. Pedro sticks his head out the window and screams "Fuck Yellow Cab!!!"
For two dollars I learned I was not alone. For two dollars I saw a man finally speak his mind. For two dollars we laughed our asses off for a reason that was so trivial we needed to focus on it.
Life is well worth the price of admission.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Take One Pass It Along
Right about now we are on the verge of one of the best times of year, Fall. I sure enjoy the season that brings us bright colors of foliage on its last limb, football, and the end of bees and mosquitos. During the late summer and early Fall I am blessed with hayfever. Nothing big, just some random sneezes and red eyes.
Today in particular I came across two people that amaze me for the same reason. They volunteered information that they are carrying contagious bacteria and still proceed to pass it along. One woman admits to having pink eye and then shakes my hand. Hello! Pink eye! I remember the people in school that got pink eye, they were the ones that always made me wonder about their daily hygene practices. What got me more is that we all know how much of a pain pink eye is to have. It's not as leisurely as some other infections. This thing takes work and countless reminders to people that no you don't smoke weed, but you just have pink eye.
Another person today was my guitar instructor. Nice guy and very cool. However he was recovering from an apparent chest cold and "couldn't kick it." FYI if you have an infection that can sideline a professional athlete- stay home. So after he confesses that he still has lingering issues he coughs on his hands, and then drapes them all over my workbook. Great, I learned the song but will be out next week with a mutated chest cold.
There was nothing really humorous about those anectdotes but I hope you won't come near me sick.
~~~~~~
God bless I wish the Sox would stop sucking. This kind of collapse and emotional attachment has me feeling like a Cubs fan...except I can name 5 players on my team. (for those that claim to be Cubs fans, give the simple test of naming 5 players without help. If they fail then ask them to name 5 bars around Wrigley)
Today in particular I came across two people that amaze me for the same reason. They volunteered information that they are carrying contagious bacteria and still proceed to pass it along. One woman admits to having pink eye and then shakes my hand. Hello! Pink eye! I remember the people in school that got pink eye, they were the ones that always made me wonder about their daily hygene practices. What got me more is that we all know how much of a pain pink eye is to have. It's not as leisurely as some other infections. This thing takes work and countless reminders to people that no you don't smoke weed, but you just have pink eye.
Another person today was my guitar instructor. Nice guy and very cool. However he was recovering from an apparent chest cold and "couldn't kick it." FYI if you have an infection that can sideline a professional athlete- stay home. So after he confesses that he still has lingering issues he coughs on his hands, and then drapes them all over my workbook. Great, I learned the song but will be out next week with a mutated chest cold.
There was nothing really humorous about those anectdotes but I hope you won't come near me sick.
~~~~~~
God bless I wish the Sox would stop sucking. This kind of collapse and emotional attachment has me feeling like a Cubs fan...except I can name 5 players on my team. (for those that claim to be Cubs fans, give the simple test of naming 5 players without help. If they fail then ask them to name 5 bars around Wrigley)
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Easy As That
I am blessed. Really I am. Upon my return home my frustrations were mounting with every tilt of the brake lights ahead of me. I will say this once but in multiple ways. I understand the I-Pass lanes are relatively snug but drive your goddamn car at a speed that will not create a traffice jam for five miles. No one (you wife included) cares about your piece of shit Altima. MOVE!
Phew! That was close, I almost had road rage and that is well - a bs crime. I am really trying to be a stronger person and I finally succeeded. Upon signing off of hotmail I was briefed with the latest Britney update. Something about her singing bad hair songs. I wanted to click it- badly.
~~~~~~~~~
I stayed strong for a number of reasons. The first being I had my Britney awakening. I no longer open links about Britney Spears with the fantasyland dream that the story will end with a link to her new pictorial in Playboy. Afterall she has eliminated the middle person (Hugh) and simply married a scuzzy guy to oogle her every move.
My friends and I were speaking about this theory. Burned out celebs use that magazine to lite a 3 minute flame on their exhausted 15minute candle. I predict with this kid, in 18 months she will be there. Saving her career, and the magazine.
Redemption is beautiful even more so when it pins up.
Phew! That was close, I almost had road rage and that is well - a bs crime. I am really trying to be a stronger person and I finally succeeded. Upon signing off of hotmail I was briefed with the latest Britney update. Something about her singing bad hair songs. I wanted to click it- badly.
~~~~~~~~~
I stayed strong for a number of reasons. The first being I had my Britney awakening. I no longer open links about Britney Spears with the fantasyland dream that the story will end with a link to her new pictorial in Playboy. Afterall she has eliminated the middle person (Hugh) and simply married a scuzzy guy to oogle her every move.
My friends and I were speaking about this theory. Burned out celebs use that magazine to lite a 3 minute flame on their exhausted 15minute candle. I predict with this kid, in 18 months she will be there. Saving her career, and the magazine.
Redemption is beautiful even more so when it pins up.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Where's Your Heart? (caution a soapbox moment)
It takes a horrible thing like a natural disaster to come and show a person's true character. People cry, run, stay put when a three day notice has been given, whatever. That is not the character that troubles me. Something troubles me more than even the looters and their ignorance to put a 50" plasma tv in a canoe and paddle off. Nothing like an aquatic larcen to make matters worse. I personally think those dumb asses should have to plug in their wet stolen merchandise for a punishment.
I have noticed the press' coverage of the relief effort. It's moments like broadcasting how much a celebrity does that pisses me off the most. I remember good ol' Sandra Bullock strutting 1mil for 9/11. Hell I would pay her 1 mil to stop making movies and go with the rest of the Surreal Life Hopefuls and hide in the Hollywood Hills. Charity is something we as people do with understanding that we are to recieve nothing for it.
PR is something that Hollywood and other sport celebritiies need to back away from. I do appreciate their efforts at bringing a nation together. But there is a huge reason that we keep them as far away from impacting legislation as possible. They are and always will be 100 times more vain than actually genuine to a cause. All they want is to have their face above a lead in for the next People mag. These people have made a joke out of caring just as before it was a posh thing to have a gay friend- now we have little dogs because of Paris.
I don't give because the Gap told me to do so. When you give, take a look back at yourself. Are you gradually speaking louder so that others may hear that you're a goddamn saint? Look, take your Acura and 1% to the United Way tax write off and go back to the club. It sickens me to see how people that are suffering are tossed aid by people so casually like the little chunky girl selling Girl Scout Cookies outside the store.
Personally I think that donating money in this era is futile. I am not going down the conspiracy theory avenue. I just realize how much bullshit redtape there is with corporate america. Just like when Ms. Goody Gucci slowly digs for coins for the Salvation Army in December, CEOs and executives everywhere wait. So they can stand proud in front of the red light on network tv and scream with the utmost juvenile attitude
I AM A GIVING PERSON DAMNIT! LOOK HOW MUCH I CARE! I CARE HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF TIMES OVER. LOOK HOW MUCH I CARE!!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE CAMERA CREW IS RUNNING LATE?!
My only remaining question is if there weren't disasters like this how would we justify our hearts? Don't wait until they need a clean up crew. If all you do is buy the rubber bands for whatever rainbow cause or put a magnet ribbon on your car you are only saying you realize a problem and would prefer someone else to do something. Save you're money and start smoking- at least that tax money goes to highway repair.
Spread the love, not just money.
I have noticed the press' coverage of the relief effort. It's moments like broadcasting how much a celebrity does that pisses me off the most. I remember good ol' Sandra Bullock strutting 1mil for 9/11. Hell I would pay her 1 mil to stop making movies and go with the rest of the Surreal Life Hopefuls and hide in the Hollywood Hills. Charity is something we as people do with understanding that we are to recieve nothing for it.
PR is something that Hollywood and other sport celebritiies need to back away from. I do appreciate their efforts at bringing a nation together. But there is a huge reason that we keep them as far away from impacting legislation as possible. They are and always will be 100 times more vain than actually genuine to a cause. All they want is to have their face above a lead in for the next People mag. These people have made a joke out of caring just as before it was a posh thing to have a gay friend- now we have little dogs because of Paris.
I don't give because the Gap told me to do so. When you give, take a look back at yourself. Are you gradually speaking louder so that others may hear that you're a goddamn saint? Look, take your Acura and 1% to the United Way tax write off and go back to the club. It sickens me to see how people that are suffering are tossed aid by people so casually like the little chunky girl selling Girl Scout Cookies outside the store.
Personally I think that donating money in this era is futile. I am not going down the conspiracy theory avenue. I just realize how much bullshit redtape there is with corporate america. Just like when Ms. Goody Gucci slowly digs for coins for the Salvation Army in December, CEOs and executives everywhere wait. So they can stand proud in front of the red light on network tv and scream with the utmost juvenile attitude
I AM A GIVING PERSON DAMNIT! LOOK HOW MUCH I CARE! I CARE HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF TIMES OVER. LOOK HOW MUCH I CARE!!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE CAMERA CREW IS RUNNING LATE?!
My only remaining question is if there weren't disasters like this how would we justify our hearts? Don't wait until they need a clean up crew. If all you do is buy the rubber bands for whatever rainbow cause or put a magnet ribbon on your car you are only saying you realize a problem and would prefer someone else to do something. Save you're money and start smoking- at least that tax money goes to highway repair.
Spread the love, not just money.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
Another Thing
I just noticed a personal ad...yes it's that hour I like to read about other people's struggles before I go to bed. It makes me rest easier knowing that some people can't dance either.
Anyway, this girl mentioned that some of the things she enjoys is hanging out with friends. Who doesn't enjoy hanging out with their friends? If you hate hanging out with your friends but continue to do so please stop. Your disease is a self inflicted one that can easily be cured by turning off your latest Avril Lavigne download and putting away your cheerleading camp scrapbook.
Thanks. Keep it obvious ladies I like that.
Anyway, this girl mentioned that some of the things she enjoys is hanging out with friends. Who doesn't enjoy hanging out with their friends? If you hate hanging out with your friends but continue to do so please stop. Your disease is a self inflicted one that can easily be cured by turning off your latest Avril Lavigne download and putting away your cheerleading camp scrapbook.
Thanks. Keep it obvious ladies I like that.
Putt Putt Down the Phone!
I just finished what may possibly be the best 18 holes of miniature golf. There are those folks that ask "do you golf?" I respond "yeah, miniature." I find that most men that ask if you golf finish the question while caressing their own pectorals. Many people may find the sport unmanly but I realize the purpose of the sport is to hit the most annoyingly small object as far as you can until you find a sunken solo cup. The only reason I see guys my age golfing is that they are being trained by their fathers to avoid their own spouses.
This great mini golf experience happened hours ago. Were you there? Maybe. As much as people diss the game it sure as hell is crowded. The match was a sea saw battle down to the 18th in which I choked/let my friend win. There were two real stories here.
1. The knob two groups ahead
2. Familiar Face
There was this guy I see at all mini golf places. He is there only to get "cute points" and redeem them in her parents drive way for a make out fest to the latest Snoop tune. By the time they were at hole 5 he was already dicking around and not even waiting for the ball to stop. His effort was no longer. Meanwhile I and a gagillion other people who WANT to play are waiting for his Hilfigger wearing, bitch blonde, K-Swiss punk ass to hit the damn ball in. Boy wonder if you need the alone time you should know to not come to a golf course of the miniature size.
My favorite moment of their night was when she was kicking his ass. Flat out. He sucked and was bad at keeping score. She jumped back "bitch that was 3!" He said no way, she then barked back claiming bullshit and marching off the hole. He was golfing like it was polo while talking on the cell phone. What dipshit talks on a cell phone during a date? That pompus guy that let's a girl call him bitch in public.
The other situation was not as climactic as the prior. I noticed a guy that resembled someone I went to highschool with. He was one year older and I could have sworn we left on good terms. I would have been ok with it had we not made eye contact. He was clearly on a date and I clearly wanted to say hi. I had to test the waters to see if I had the greenlight. I gave him the nod. It was returned with the head tilt that says "whah?" Phew almost made an ass of myself. No, no, no. That had to be him. I will never know, if only that trick that was with him was not there. Or at least if she wasn't in stilettos while mini golfing I would have felt welcome.
Who wears stilettos to go mini golfing? You girls need to start being practacle and stop thinking your Sarah Jessica Parker.
This great mini golf experience happened hours ago. Were you there? Maybe. As much as people diss the game it sure as hell is crowded. The match was a sea saw battle down to the 18th in which I choked/let my friend win. There were two real stories here.
1. The knob two groups ahead
2. Familiar Face
There was this guy I see at all mini golf places. He is there only to get "cute points" and redeem them in her parents drive way for a make out fest to the latest Snoop tune. By the time they were at hole 5 he was already dicking around and not even waiting for the ball to stop. His effort was no longer. Meanwhile I and a gagillion other people who WANT to play are waiting for his Hilfigger wearing, bitch blonde, K-Swiss punk ass to hit the damn ball in. Boy wonder if you need the alone time you should know to not come to a golf course of the miniature size.
My favorite moment of their night was when she was kicking his ass. Flat out. He sucked and was bad at keeping score. She jumped back "bitch that was 3!" He said no way, she then barked back claiming bullshit and marching off the hole. He was golfing like it was polo while talking on the cell phone. What dipshit talks on a cell phone during a date? That pompus guy that let's a girl call him bitch in public.
The other situation was not as climactic as the prior. I noticed a guy that resembled someone I went to highschool with. He was one year older and I could have sworn we left on good terms. I would have been ok with it had we not made eye contact. He was clearly on a date and I clearly wanted to say hi. I had to test the waters to see if I had the greenlight. I gave him the nod. It was returned with the head tilt that says "whah?" Phew almost made an ass of myself. No, no, no. That had to be him. I will never know, if only that trick that was with him was not there. Or at least if she wasn't in stilettos while mini golfing I would have felt welcome.
Who wears stilettos to go mini golfing? You girls need to start being practacle and stop thinking your Sarah Jessica Parker.
On the Verge of Something
Last week was awesome. I did things the way I ideally wanted to. I played an open mic, performed in two comedy contests, and even took the next step with music lessons in harmonica and guitar. The big thing is getting on stage. I am working off this recent funk that has bogged my life down.
The room on Monday is a tough room since it is filled with pretty much all comics. I didn't go up on stage well practiced in my set since I was uncertain which material to test. I am pleased to have performed three of seven days last week; now it's a matter of performing really well all of those times.
Fortunately I have been able to grow each time out. Picking up certain new lines to some of my and your favorite routines. Wednesday I went up with definite confidence and got my laughs where I could- afterall I was in a sports bar and those folks have about 35,000 tvs there.
Friday night was a lesson of being able to adjust to the crowd. I had the mindset ok, I am doing the bit on the women's hmm you know. Anyway, two comics before me went down that avenue and I then went up. I feel that the bit would hit better if it weren't a show on how sexually futile guys are. Lesson learned to be more adaptable to the circumstances.
So my other popular bit didn't hit so well then too because I chose to make fun a one culture even though there was easily a dozen of them there- many in the front table. The organizer came up to me and commended me on having an uncanny sense of bravery in that sense. "You're not afraid to say any joke, man that takes courage." You got balls he said. You won't always find your crowd but it is good to earn the respect of your peers.
People some mad shit is going on here. Stay tuned hit me with your email on a comment if you want show postings as I do have a few more this month. September 23 I will be the featured stand up at a comedy show.
The room on Monday is a tough room since it is filled with pretty much all comics. I didn't go up on stage well practiced in my set since I was uncertain which material to test. I am pleased to have performed three of seven days last week; now it's a matter of performing really well all of those times.
Fortunately I have been able to grow each time out. Picking up certain new lines to some of my and your favorite routines. Wednesday I went up with definite confidence and got my laughs where I could- afterall I was in a sports bar and those folks have about 35,000 tvs there.
Friday night was a lesson of being able to adjust to the crowd. I had the mindset ok, I am doing the bit on the women's hmm you know. Anyway, two comics before me went down that avenue and I then went up. I feel that the bit would hit better if it weren't a show on how sexually futile guys are. Lesson learned to be more adaptable to the circumstances.
So my other popular bit didn't hit so well then too because I chose to make fun a one culture even though there was easily a dozen of them there- many in the front table. The organizer came up to me and commended me on having an uncanny sense of bravery in that sense. "You're not afraid to say any joke, man that takes courage." You got balls he said. You won't always find your crowd but it is good to earn the respect of your peers.
People some mad shit is going on here. Stay tuned hit me with your email on a comment if you want show postings as I do have a few more this month. September 23 I will be the featured stand up at a comedy show.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
The Real Rock
I tried. I tried actually for the third time to watch Rockstar INXS. I could only watch about five minutes. When did Dave Navarro become the lap dog to a dead band. Sorry Hutchins fans. Dave has the ammount of make up that could rival Rupaul. Regardless, there are a couple things that bother me the most. One is that no one says anything bad to these people...my first comment would be WHY ARE YOU FIGHTING TO BE APART OF INXS?!
You have one guy that looks like an extra from The Birdcage and another that looks like well, he sleeps in one while wearing a diaper or whatever floats his boat. The whole image of rock is being ostracized and I don't like it. It's fine for pop to be pop but when rock goes this route we are only moments away before we see more glam rock poser crap.
I learned to be "sexy" you need to be in tight pants. Let me tell you this. I need my space, and that starts with my pants. That reason alone I am not ever going to wear Wrangler jeans. OK that doesn't relate very well to this entry but whatever.
I saw some trademark blonde in the pit drooling at the feet of potential. That's the true way of life. If you can't get yourself, then sleep with someone who you can live through vicarously.
~~~~~~~~~
I am back to watching the Real World Austin. It is at the point in the season where the sexual laziness has set in and now all are hooking up with eachother. On the episode tonight I got to witness the parental "be above that" pep talk about their kid not standing up for themself after being called a tramp or woman that gives it up like sorority gal after a couple free beers (wow that was a circular metaphor- did you follow?) By the way I know not all sorority girls are like that- some aren't hot, and others are trying to go pre-med. I just wish for her sake she would stay in lighting that doesn't make her head look huge.
Back to the lecture at hand. They all crazy, horny and poised for middle management at best.
You have one guy that looks like an extra from The Birdcage and another that looks like well, he sleeps in one while wearing a diaper or whatever floats his boat. The whole image of rock is being ostracized and I don't like it. It's fine for pop to be pop but when rock goes this route we are only moments away before we see more glam rock poser crap.
I learned to be "sexy" you need to be in tight pants. Let me tell you this. I need my space, and that starts with my pants. That reason alone I am not ever going to wear Wrangler jeans. OK that doesn't relate very well to this entry but whatever.
I saw some trademark blonde in the pit drooling at the feet of potential. That's the true way of life. If you can't get yourself, then sleep with someone who you can live through vicarously.
~~~~~~~~~
I am back to watching the Real World Austin. It is at the point in the season where the sexual laziness has set in and now all are hooking up with eachother. On the episode tonight I got to witness the parental "be above that" pep talk about their kid not standing up for themself after being called a tramp or woman that gives it up like sorority gal after a couple free beers (wow that was a circular metaphor- did you follow?) By the way I know not all sorority girls are like that- some aren't hot, and others are trying to go pre-med. I just wish for her sake she would stay in lighting that doesn't make her head look huge.
Back to the lecture at hand. They all crazy, horny and poised for middle management at best.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
No Fillers
Holy crap what a weekend. First off, those of you who know how much of an avid board game dork I am best know I played Cranium (best game ever- yes I am confident saying that) and Catch Phrase. Good time but not even the focal point of the weekend.
My friend bought like 1/4 a cow. Not a 1/4 pounder, a fraction of the damn cow. It's amazing how in one swoop of the clever that he became more manly than any preconcieved image of John Wayne. Although Wendy's claims to have a fresh burger, this was so fresh the cow's mother was still morning the loss. I know that's rough to say but those who are offended should go hug a kitten because well you should know where I am going with this.
God bless red meat. That shit is good. My friend was at the grill for hours, and unlike other cook outs it wasn't spent starting the grill. It had the pot luck accessory vibe where we all brought side dishes. I bought mine like a good little bachelor. Thanks Sara Lee. Once the whole spread was set I felt the urge to join a crusade and go kill some vikings or something to justify the massive ammounts of food that inspire conversation about how good it is to be yourself.
Some other guy brought Hungarian sausages. I added a new sausage to my tastebud inventory of brat, Polish, or Italian. It's a product who's aftertaste is better than initial taste in my opinion. Regardless, I enjoyed.
The only downside to the cookout wat the arch ememy of all summer activity- the bee. Someone needs to kill them. Seriously, we have scientists that get off on cross pollenating. There was one bee that will always follow me at the party. The one that goes from inside my drink to on my food to under my chin and then touchdown dance on my nose saying bzzz you my bzzzitch. No go look like a wacko runnning around flapping at something 300 times smaller than you.
~~~~~~
Don't call it a come back. I just saw MC Hammer on the VMA's. See the Surreal Life can help people. I can't wait until the tour when 50 opens for Hammer.
~~~~~~
Robert Downey Jr got married. Even though he has been out of detox for some time this shows he is still a glutton for punishment.
~~~~~~
I hear that they are considering a sequel to Office Space. I just hope Jennifer Anniston hasn't lost touch with that inner bubbly waitress she does so well.
My friend bought like 1/4 a cow. Not a 1/4 pounder, a fraction of the damn cow. It's amazing how in one swoop of the clever that he became more manly than any preconcieved image of John Wayne. Although Wendy's claims to have a fresh burger, this was so fresh the cow's mother was still morning the loss. I know that's rough to say but those who are offended should go hug a kitten because well you should know where I am going with this.
God bless red meat. That shit is good. My friend was at the grill for hours, and unlike other cook outs it wasn't spent starting the grill. It had the pot luck accessory vibe where we all brought side dishes. I bought mine like a good little bachelor. Thanks Sara Lee. Once the whole spread was set I felt the urge to join a crusade and go kill some vikings or something to justify the massive ammounts of food that inspire conversation about how good it is to be yourself.
Some other guy brought Hungarian sausages. I added a new sausage to my tastebud inventory of brat, Polish, or Italian. It's a product who's aftertaste is better than initial taste in my opinion. Regardless, I enjoyed.
The only downside to the cookout wat the arch ememy of all summer activity- the bee. Someone needs to kill them. Seriously, we have scientists that get off on cross pollenating. There was one bee that will always follow me at the party. The one that goes from inside my drink to on my food to under my chin and then touchdown dance on my nose saying bzzz you my bzzzitch. No go look like a wacko runnning around flapping at something 300 times smaller than you.
~~~~~~
Don't call it a come back. I just saw MC Hammer on the VMA's. See the Surreal Life can help people. I can't wait until the tour when 50 opens for Hammer.
~~~~~~
Robert Downey Jr got married. Even though he has been out of detox for some time this shows he is still a glutton for punishment.
~~~~~~
I hear that they are considering a sequel to Office Space. I just hope Jennifer Anniston hasn't lost touch with that inner bubbly waitress she does so well.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
323
Tap tap good morning
tap tap tap
five fallen grey initiates
spoken by broken
faced red with you
tomorrow leaks by
answers on the stoop
disection jokes back
as miss nomer feels
out crowds of
doubters
work on it they say
it's a process of pain
worth scars that maim
fossilized screams scorn
full frontal potential
she talks he balks
whispers that drown
out after being
outraged with being
born at all
tired of running?
reasons fall with every
gasp of truth fear and mortality
reaching for fallen pacifier
crawling face forward
with parental remorse
time will come to bury
a final hour's burden
good night
tap tap tap
five fallen grey initiates
spoken by broken
faced red with you
tomorrow leaks by
answers on the stoop
disection jokes back
as miss nomer feels
out crowds of
doubters
work on it they say
it's a process of pain
worth scars that maim
fossilized screams scorn
full frontal potential
she talks he balks
whispers that drown
out after being
outraged with being
born at all
tired of running?
reasons fall with every
gasp of truth fear and mortality
reaching for fallen pacifier
crawling face forward
with parental remorse
time will come to bury
a final hour's burden
good night
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
And That's a Wrap
Summer is over for me now. I have concluded my responsibilities to three weddings and one Christianing. Now I can say that my church attendance is up. Not that it matters. It's strange this whole lingering feeling of big events. Once someone has one we are all spent sharing the moment with them and then speculating who is next.
Within the process of the reception, in my opinion the tossing of the bouquet and garder are the biggest lines of BS that we enforce. All it does is give some girl the right a way to turn down the one way road of eternal dreaming. When will her big day come? My favorite thing about the catch is the immediate look into the crowd of men like she is at the pet store. "Ooh ooh, I want the funny looking one that keeps squinting." If they go home it's only a matter of time before becoming a lap dog.
Guys care less about the garder. Yep, we use it as a token to show some gal that "we're next." If you're buying that vibe, let me tell you about a great timeshare we have too. Look marriage comes to each in ways that are often unique. I used to resist the concept of marriage. I even told girls that I never want to get married. That scares a girl off as quick as telling a guy that you like cats does.
I like the concept that we say you marry you dad or mom. Sounds about right. We are as kinky, insestual, homocurious as they come. This is the only time that we willingly install that image in our children's mind. I know that the intention is to focus on the personality but you can't but superimpose the face of your sweet pea into the body of your parent.
I can say more about this but I have 1. stuff to do and 2. now become nausious by my own posting.
Within the process of the reception, in my opinion the tossing of the bouquet and garder are the biggest lines of BS that we enforce. All it does is give some girl the right a way to turn down the one way road of eternal dreaming. When will her big day come? My favorite thing about the catch is the immediate look into the crowd of men like she is at the pet store. "Ooh ooh, I want the funny looking one that keeps squinting." If they go home it's only a matter of time before becoming a lap dog.
Guys care less about the garder. Yep, we use it as a token to show some gal that "we're next." If you're buying that vibe, let me tell you about a great timeshare we have too. Look marriage comes to each in ways that are often unique. I used to resist the concept of marriage. I even told girls that I never want to get married. That scares a girl off as quick as telling a guy that you like cats does.
I like the concept that we say you marry you dad or mom. Sounds about right. We are as kinky, insestual, homocurious as they come. This is the only time that we willingly install that image in our children's mind. I know that the intention is to focus on the personality but you can't but superimpose the face of your sweet pea into the body of your parent.
I can say more about this but I have 1. stuff to do and 2. now become nausious by my own posting.
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Tone Death
I finally have released Sprint from the grasps of my spine and reproductive organs. There is something to be said about cancelling your cell phone. Yes, I have such a distaste for your interpretation of quality that I am willing to pay $150 to say not on my buck.
Within my tenure with Sprint, I, like many paid for ring tones. Sure, $1 or so and now I don't have that pesky phone sound coming out of my damn phone. I ruined four solid songs because of my craving of pop trends. Never will I be able to listen to all of "Cecilia" because I will experience flashbacks to screeming WHAT?!.
I had the tones that were me, yet a little more about the attention. Hey Hey...HEY EVERYONE!!! MY PHONE...IT"S RINGING!! PRETTY SWEET HUH?! WHAT?! YOU ALL HAVE CELL PHONES TOO?! WELL DOES YOURS PLAY 50 Cent? Look dillhole, pick up the phone. The point of the phone is to let you communicate with someone. If I wanted to hear the same 8 seconds of a song I will turn on MTV.
This is just the start there will be something new. Like now people can pay to eliminate the ringing on the phone. Now music is played until somebody picks up the phone. Ring tones just give us all another false sense of coolness just like tanning salons and teeth whitening.
The embarrassment that follows is now when no one looks. Remember when only rich white people could afford car alarms? That don't mean jack now. Regular chumps like yours truly can push the panic button on their ride. Only of course to drown out the people who talk so loud they defeat the purpose of the phone all together.
If you have downloaded a ring tone in the past few months I have news for you. Hurry to the GAP I hear there will be a new color scheme for stripes.
Within my tenure with Sprint, I, like many paid for ring tones. Sure, $1 or so and now I don't have that pesky phone sound coming out of my damn phone. I ruined four solid songs because of my craving of pop trends. Never will I be able to listen to all of "Cecilia" because I will experience flashbacks to screeming WHAT?!.
I had the tones that were me, yet a little more about the attention. Hey Hey...HEY EVERYONE!!! MY PHONE...IT"S RINGING!! PRETTY SWEET HUH?! WHAT?! YOU ALL HAVE CELL PHONES TOO?! WELL DOES YOURS PLAY 50 Cent? Look dillhole, pick up the phone. The point of the phone is to let you communicate with someone. If I wanted to hear the same 8 seconds of a song I will turn on MTV.
This is just the start there will be something new. Like now people can pay to eliminate the ringing on the phone. Now music is played until somebody picks up the phone. Ring tones just give us all another false sense of coolness just like tanning salons and teeth whitening.
The embarrassment that follows is now when no one looks. Remember when only rich white people could afford car alarms? That don't mean jack now. Regular chumps like yours truly can push the panic button on their ride. Only of course to drown out the people who talk so loud they defeat the purpose of the phone all together.
If you have downloaded a ring tone in the past few months I have news for you. Hurry to the GAP I hear there will be a new color scheme for stripes.
Monday, August 01, 2005
Never Cleaning Again
This past Saturday I went into cleaning mode. Full out. The reason why I like to clean is that when I realize I am to lazy to go outside but need to do something that I can brag to others about- I clean. It shows responsibility. So I would think.
I gave the place a cleaning like there was a Maxim shoot that day. I used six Swiffer wet mops. 6! This floor is cleanist in years. I then went the step into being compulsive like mom. I put some polish on the floor. Not just accident waiting to happen, broken bone waiting to happen.
When I went to get my shoes on this morning. I slipped so bad my left leg knocked out my right leg, I knocked over the fan and then laid on the ground hoping to - well not wake someone up. I am the relatively considerate building mate.
I now walk with rubber souls at all times.
~~~~~~
I found a way to make myself go to the gym every morning. I've stopped buying shampoo and conditioner. Merging personal health and hygene was only a matter of time. Now if I let myself down the whole office will suffer.
I did go on the treadmill today. Almost fell off every time I went to wipe my face. I think I had the raw end of the deal today. My mind was concerned with the reverse scenario. There were attractive women behind me running- and I knew that they were only watching me to see if I'd fall off. How long can a relationship on spandex really last anyway? (debut call back- those who were there should comment hello)
In effort to deny my body of any advancement I then came home and ate three chicken patty sandwhiches. There must be something in there like nicotine. I can't stop eating them. One day I will make the great dream- chicken patty hot pocket casserole. Yes ladies I cook.
I gave the place a cleaning like there was a Maxim shoot that day. I used six Swiffer wet mops. 6! This floor is cleanist in years. I then went the step into being compulsive like mom. I put some polish on the floor. Not just accident waiting to happen, broken bone waiting to happen.
When I went to get my shoes on this morning. I slipped so bad my left leg knocked out my right leg, I knocked over the fan and then laid on the ground hoping to - well not wake someone up. I am the relatively considerate building mate.
I now walk with rubber souls at all times.
~~~~~~
I found a way to make myself go to the gym every morning. I've stopped buying shampoo and conditioner. Merging personal health and hygene was only a matter of time. Now if I let myself down the whole office will suffer.
I did go on the treadmill today. Almost fell off every time I went to wipe my face. I think I had the raw end of the deal today. My mind was concerned with the reverse scenario. There were attractive women behind me running- and I knew that they were only watching me to see if I'd fall off. How long can a relationship on spandex really last anyway? (debut call back- those who were there should comment hello)
In effort to deny my body of any advancement I then came home and ate three chicken patty sandwhiches. There must be something in there like nicotine. I can't stop eating them. One day I will make the great dream- chicken patty hot pocket casserole. Yes ladies I cook.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Another Post?! 2 in 1 Day SWEET!
What would deserve the pleasure of multiple postings in one day? Let me tell you. First thing first, sleeping to 11:30am got me all charged for the day. I slept so long that when I got out of bed I could actually feel how straightened my spine had become.
Prior to getting out of bed I did get a call at 8am. Yikes! This caused me to stretch in a feline manner. Low and behold that was not a bright idea. I have long been injured on multiple occiasions just by stretching in bed (those who know know the story). Now comes another injury. I stretched my calf muscle to the point I pulled it. I was in agony to the point I was caressing my leg while burrying my face in the pillow hoping for some intervention on this pain.
My new theory of wiggling my toes and slowly extending the leg worked. I returned to bed and slept for another three and a half hours. Phew!
~~~~~~
The main reason for this entry is salsa. I went out with my buddies from work and we stopped off at her house. There were full out spread of snacks and beer. God do I love being in the adult world. No more of this BYO snacks. There was some of the best salsa ever. It was peach and pineapple salsa. Damn it was tasty. To the point I would have started to dip vegetables in that just to have an excuse for eating the salsa.
I then today made my trademark Gringo quesadillas. Grilled cheese that I dip in salsa. It wasn't peach and pineapple salsa, but it did just fine.
~~~~~~~
I am currently uploading my cuban music cd. It is only a matter of time that the young latinos respect the Alto. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em...in blasting crazy music at 4am.
Prior to getting out of bed I did get a call at 8am. Yikes! This caused me to stretch in a feline manner. Low and behold that was not a bright idea. I have long been injured on multiple occiasions just by stretching in bed (those who know know the story). Now comes another injury. I stretched my calf muscle to the point I pulled it. I was in agony to the point I was caressing my leg while burrying my face in the pillow hoping for some intervention on this pain.
My new theory of wiggling my toes and slowly extending the leg worked. I returned to bed and slept for another three and a half hours. Phew!
~~~~~~
The main reason for this entry is salsa. I went out with my buddies from work and we stopped off at her house. There were full out spread of snacks and beer. God do I love being in the adult world. No more of this BYO snacks. There was some of the best salsa ever. It was peach and pineapple salsa. Damn it was tasty. To the point I would have started to dip vegetables in that just to have an excuse for eating the salsa.
I then today made my trademark Gringo quesadillas. Grilled cheese that I dip in salsa. It wasn't peach and pineapple salsa, but it did just fine.
~~~~~~~
I am currently uploading my cuban music cd. It is only a matter of time that the young latinos respect the Alto. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em...in blasting crazy music at 4am.
The Casting Couch
For any of those people who have gone to auditions and not made it, you may enjoy this inside look on the process. Not more than a month ago I was rejected from an audition and it set me back a bit. I thought I hit it well but I was wrong. I am not a hot girl. At least I know that it's not a skill factor here.
The thing is attractive women can get whatever they want in life as long as they plan smart and groom well; when and where necessary. I am involved in a production that had auditions last week. It was nice to see how these things go on the other side.
After watching a group with alright guys and some decent girls we had an all guy audition. No news from that. This is about the way women are cast. The first group had what we call healthy women. You know the ones that know the answer to the perenial question "what's for dinner?" But mind you still relatively talented.
Enter group three. Eleven people, four of which were women with noticeable beauty (typically unseen in comedy-note Janine Garofolo) Anyway, to make this story better I will change the names to protect us writers. There was this hot number Jackie that was there. Very talented, but I knew that as long as she didn't open her mouth and spit out F-bombs she was in. Why? I know the rest of the writers thought she was hot.
After the audition we got together to pick the six person cast. Three guys and three girls are needed. We knew one girl was hands down the best. Then our director said, "ok who stuck out from that last group?" In sequence without missing a beat three guy writes (self included) jump to say- "Jackie" "Jackie" "Jackie". I started to laugh when I looked at the one girl in our group who clued in quickly.
"You guys just want to f*$@ her." I reply "No." I couldn't muster anyother words of bullshit to make her frustration recess. The fact of the matter is that Jackie had a good audition. I have minimal attraction to her for a number of reasons. 1. I am sober while I write this. 2. She reminds me of one of my friends girlfriends 3. He hair is too long for my liking.
Casting is one of the best experiences that I could have ever witnessed. It's very much like job descriptions. We need this, that, more of another, and if you happen to be someone we would want to sleep with then that's a plus. Please bring headshot, resume, and hair clip to the audition.
I just hope all casting couches are scotchguarded.
The thing is attractive women can get whatever they want in life as long as they plan smart and groom well; when and where necessary. I am involved in a production that had auditions last week. It was nice to see how these things go on the other side.
After watching a group with alright guys and some decent girls we had an all guy audition. No news from that. This is about the way women are cast. The first group had what we call healthy women. You know the ones that know the answer to the perenial question "what's for dinner?" But mind you still relatively talented.
Enter group three. Eleven people, four of which were women with noticeable beauty (typically unseen in comedy-note Janine Garofolo) Anyway, to make this story better I will change the names to protect us writers. There was this hot number Jackie that was there. Very talented, but I knew that as long as she didn't open her mouth and spit out F-bombs she was in. Why? I know the rest of the writers thought she was hot.
After the audition we got together to pick the six person cast. Three guys and three girls are needed. We knew one girl was hands down the best. Then our director said, "ok who stuck out from that last group?" In sequence without missing a beat three guy writes (self included) jump to say- "Jackie" "Jackie" "Jackie". I started to laugh when I looked at the one girl in our group who clued in quickly.
"You guys just want to f*$@ her." I reply "No." I couldn't muster anyother words of bullshit to make her frustration recess. The fact of the matter is that Jackie had a good audition. I have minimal attraction to her for a number of reasons. 1. I am sober while I write this. 2. She reminds me of one of my friends girlfriends 3. He hair is too long for my liking.
Casting is one of the best experiences that I could have ever witnessed. It's very much like job descriptions. We need this, that, more of another, and if you happen to be someone we would want to sleep with then that's a plus. Please bring headshot, resume, and hair clip to the audition.
I just hope all casting couches are scotchguarded.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
The Magical Love Bus
Well I do apologize for the delay in blogville. I was standing up in a wedding this past weekend. It was wonderful. As long as it's not my wedding I tend to approve. Tend is the keyword there. Anyway, the temp was hot and muggy. Perfect for formal wear to stick to the body like a wet t-shirt. (no this entry is not going that direction)
So after behaving ourselves for about an hour and change, we hit the trail all in the "party bus." Granted we were over maximum capacity, or just bigger in the rump than thought we all crammed in there. The driver had 4 teeth and a tie and short sleeve shirt.
The surprise there was while in the church mr. driver was hitting the sauce meant for the bridal party. Foul on two levels. 1. Don't drink other's booze. 2. Don't drive after that. This yahoo spent the majority of the trip to the reception driving all over and creating motion sickness to the passengers- not to mention he claimed to have cd with party music and it was Ace of Base and some other fine chart toppers.
We managed, we drank with caution, some ate with caution. Then we stopped to get more beer. Apparently within 30 minutes 18+ can drink about 2 drinks each. While at the local liquor shop the driver exchanges words with one of the patrons and then her husband tells the driver off. Set on being completely stupid the driver then almost fights this man. In a sign of frustration he kicks one of the groomsmen off the bus. What was seeming to be the message was that no one respects the bus driver. The groomsman exchanged some pleasantries and then got on the bus. Damn! Who's the punk now?
Upon arriving to the reception venue the driver bitched about us trashing the bus. I guess empty cans, bottles and some broken crackers were the last straw. He spent about five minutes whining about not getting a tip while he threw trash on the driveway of the site. He then was repremanded for the hundredth time that day and cleaned it up like the li'l bitch he was.
By no means am I saying bus drivers are jags like this guy. Afterall, I am rather confident he is no longer a bus driver. Our memories will last a lifetime. Which I am sure is longer than his unemployment will.
So after behaving ourselves for about an hour and change, we hit the trail all in the "party bus." Granted we were over maximum capacity, or just bigger in the rump than thought we all crammed in there. The driver had 4 teeth and a tie and short sleeve shirt.
The surprise there was while in the church mr. driver was hitting the sauce meant for the bridal party. Foul on two levels. 1. Don't drink other's booze. 2. Don't drive after that. This yahoo spent the majority of the trip to the reception driving all over and creating motion sickness to the passengers- not to mention he claimed to have cd with party music and it was Ace of Base and some other fine chart toppers.
We managed, we drank with caution, some ate with caution. Then we stopped to get more beer. Apparently within 30 minutes 18+ can drink about 2 drinks each. While at the local liquor shop the driver exchanges words with one of the patrons and then her husband tells the driver off. Set on being completely stupid the driver then almost fights this man. In a sign of frustration he kicks one of the groomsmen off the bus. What was seeming to be the message was that no one respects the bus driver. The groomsman exchanged some pleasantries and then got on the bus. Damn! Who's the punk now?
Upon arriving to the reception venue the driver bitched about us trashing the bus. I guess empty cans, bottles and some broken crackers were the last straw. He spent about five minutes whining about not getting a tip while he threw trash on the driveway of the site. He then was repremanded for the hundredth time that day and cleaned it up like the li'l bitch he was.
By no means am I saying bus drivers are jags like this guy. Afterall, I am rather confident he is no longer a bus driver. Our memories will last a lifetime. Which I am sure is longer than his unemployment will.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Divinity at Wholesale Prices!!!
Well today was my niece's Christianing. What a moment in her life that she knows nothing about. What I found delicious about it all was the way the church has gone Costco on the parish. I arrive in the parking lot to see others leaving their cars for the church. One, two, three unfamiliar faces surface. Maybe my sister made new friends I am unaware of. Not likely since marriage + kids = no more time for friends. But I digress.
These were other families having baptisms on that day. There were 11 kids and the priest called it a slow day. SLOW! Now if the padre was thinking he could double profits with having a sunset ceremony ontop of the matinee. Silly Catholics, always three generations behind the rest.
So as the onslaught of strangers come in for their equally impersonal service I was taken a back. There was someone there that I graduated high school with. She looked good, (she did gain the freshmen fifteen but looks like she kicked that.-good for her.) So we had the catch up face off. "
"So Mike, this is my fiance- blabidity Blah"
"Nice to meet you, congrats" (1pt Keri)
"What have you been up to Keri?"
"I teach, elementary school. And you?"
"I was out east for a bit, now I am working and I do comedy, stand up and movies and stuff."
"Cool." (1 pt Mike)
TOTAL SCORE - Mike 1 Keri 1
And that's how it ended, a dead tie. Sometimes there is not a clear winner. I am considering docking at least 1 pt for being attractive and engaged at her age. (Mike 1 Keri -1) (Hey it's my game/blog)
We left one hour later with God on our side and with intention of returning for the next wedding/funeral, or Christmas. Whatever comes first.
These were other families having baptisms on that day. There were 11 kids and the priest called it a slow day. SLOW! Now if the padre was thinking he could double profits with having a sunset ceremony ontop of the matinee. Silly Catholics, always three generations behind the rest.
So as the onslaught of strangers come in for their equally impersonal service I was taken a back. There was someone there that I graduated high school with. She looked good, (she did gain the freshmen fifteen but looks like she kicked that.-good for her.) So we had the catch up face off. "
"So Mike, this is my fiance- blabidity Blah"
"Nice to meet you, congrats" (1pt Keri)
"What have you been up to Keri?"
"I teach, elementary school. And you?"
"I was out east for a bit, now I am working and I do comedy, stand up and movies and stuff."
"Cool." (1 pt Mike)
TOTAL SCORE - Mike 1 Keri 1
And that's how it ended, a dead tie. Sometimes there is not a clear winner. I am considering docking at least 1 pt for being attractive and engaged at her age. (Mike 1 Keri -1) (Hey it's my game/blog)
We left one hour later with God on our side and with intention of returning for the next wedding/funeral, or Christmas. Whatever comes first.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Rebel Without a Handsfree
Welcome to the wide world of huber-b.s. I was recently driving in the city and for some reason my car was quiet. Sure the music was louder than the passing airplane but there was something missing- my muffled ringtone of Cecilia coming from the cell phone.
No longer am I able to drive and talk on the phone. Probably for the best, now I have plenty of time to read my billboards and bumperstickers. There is a good 4 mile stretch that I know I look mainly at the signs compared to the 98 Grand Am slamming breaks in front of me.
So i was called last night while in the heart of the north side. I stared at the phone, a quick blur of tickets, officers, and pending insurance hikes. What did I do? Answered it. Damn straight! Take that over-protective city. Now I should mention that I am not all swagger. When I drove by officers while holding my cell phone (and in mid-conversation) I dropped in on my lap like a hot plate. The fun part was not telling the people every time I dropped it on my lap.
What takes the cake more than my rogue attitude is those that follow the law. I drove by some guy with a handsfree and he was holding the mic up to his mouth. How freaking effective is this law?
I look forward to the day where we pass an ordinance prohibiting absurd laws and or law makers. Never mind that'll never happen since we may hurt the morons' feelings.
No longer am I able to drive and talk on the phone. Probably for the best, now I have plenty of time to read my billboards and bumperstickers. There is a good 4 mile stretch that I know I look mainly at the signs compared to the 98 Grand Am slamming breaks in front of me.
So i was called last night while in the heart of the north side. I stared at the phone, a quick blur of tickets, officers, and pending insurance hikes. What did I do? Answered it. Damn straight! Take that over-protective city. Now I should mention that I am not all swagger. When I drove by officers while holding my cell phone (and in mid-conversation) I dropped in on my lap like a hot plate. The fun part was not telling the people every time I dropped it on my lap.
What takes the cake more than my rogue attitude is those that follow the law. I drove by some guy with a handsfree and he was holding the mic up to his mouth. How freaking effective is this law?
I look forward to the day where we pass an ordinance prohibiting absurd laws and or law makers. Never mind that'll never happen since we may hurt the morons' feelings.
Monday, July 11, 2005
Cleaning Crew
I cleaned the apartment last night. I was on top of it for the first time in a while. Mainly because I realized that I hit my dirty threshold. No longer did I want to walk on the well placed pizza crumb. For I have a Swiffer, with the mop covers. Pushing that around was very much like just pushing a wet paper towel. But this says Swiffer, and thus is now a cleaner apartment.
Cleaning is the best realization to how much harder you need to work. It is sort of the swim suit of housing. I tell you I had spent way too long ignoring the healthy habits of mopping and dusting.
After that I was so hopped up on initiative that I even made my lunch for the week and ironed for the week. Some of you wonder why do I mention this trivial info. Nothing is ever trivial, but often times boring as hell.
I did try to hop over the iron that was on, again the lack of vertical rise I have. I tripped, pulled the hot iron down, grazing my foot. Domestication does come at price. Whether it be dignity or layers of flesh is undetermined.
(I did go to a bachelor party but I can't disclose any of that for you women are better connected than we thought)
Cleaning is the best realization to how much harder you need to work. It is sort of the swim suit of housing. I tell you I had spent way too long ignoring the healthy habits of mopping and dusting.
After that I was so hopped up on initiative that I even made my lunch for the week and ironed for the week. Some of you wonder why do I mention this trivial info. Nothing is ever trivial, but often times boring as hell.
I did try to hop over the iron that was on, again the lack of vertical rise I have. I tripped, pulled the hot iron down, grazing my foot. Domestication does come at price. Whether it be dignity or layers of flesh is undetermined.
(I did go to a bachelor party but I can't disclose any of that for you women are better connected than we thought)
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Rules and Regulations
Alright so this past weekend was a blast but it came at the expense of some sanity. First of all I must give credit to all my friends who chose to come to the suburbs for a cookout. Granted a pool can typically generate friends out of the quietest of neighbors. I digress.
So upon returning to the barrio I get to dodge the onslaught of fireworks. Not a bad thing. Until I try to park my car and get another notch older than before. Whenever I have a "damn kids" moment I know that something bad is happening. I chose not to have them land their equally illegal fireworks on the ride.
Ok I like fireworks. A lot. They are great when done right. However when you start to see a quality anything you begin to realize that for every better removes more innocence. I care not about Neighborhood or even lakeside fireworks. I have seen Disney ones that in my opinion are the best. Why are they the best? Because some jamoke is not lighting them off until damn near midnight.
There is no tact with some people. They simply don't care. It's all about them and who cares what others would prefer. (Am I talking about myself or the fireworkers? You decide) Perhaps my favorite bit of 4th knowledge was that this was the last year for Chicago residents to use sparklers. Sparklers. Where else are kids going to learn about the relative speed metal conducts heat?
This rule bothers me. It is another case and point that we have some of the dumbest parents alive. There are some excellent ones out there. They are using pacifiers, tough love, and even the word no on occaision. Someday soon we won't be able to use knives in Chicago because some kid will hurt themself while mommy or daddy was busy setting the Tivo.
So now that some half wit can't stop watching the game on tv, or gabbing with their newly married friends, some kid who has attentive parents has to drag the kids to a park to watch the the spectacle in the sky. Meanwhile the gifted kids are all chewing on their shoelaces and making stupidity flow like Bud on the northside and the residential regulars are now trying so hard to ignore the social difference between no and know.
In moments when rules are made to excuse responsibility I thank God- for mortality. Someday it will all end.
So upon returning to the barrio I get to dodge the onslaught of fireworks. Not a bad thing. Until I try to park my car and get another notch older than before. Whenever I have a "damn kids" moment I know that something bad is happening. I chose not to have them land their equally illegal fireworks on the ride.
Ok I like fireworks. A lot. They are great when done right. However when you start to see a quality anything you begin to realize that for every better removes more innocence. I care not about Neighborhood or even lakeside fireworks. I have seen Disney ones that in my opinion are the best. Why are they the best? Because some jamoke is not lighting them off until damn near midnight.
There is no tact with some people. They simply don't care. It's all about them and who cares what others would prefer. (Am I talking about myself or the fireworkers? You decide) Perhaps my favorite bit of 4th knowledge was that this was the last year for Chicago residents to use sparklers. Sparklers. Where else are kids going to learn about the relative speed metal conducts heat?
This rule bothers me. It is another case and point that we have some of the dumbest parents alive. There are some excellent ones out there. They are using pacifiers, tough love, and even the word no on occaision. Someday soon we won't be able to use knives in Chicago because some kid will hurt themself while mommy or daddy was busy setting the Tivo.
So now that some half wit can't stop watching the game on tv, or gabbing with their newly married friends, some kid who has attentive parents has to drag the kids to a park to watch the the spectacle in the sky. Meanwhile the gifted kids are all chewing on their shoelaces and making stupidity flow like Bud on the northside and the residential regulars are now trying so hard to ignore the social difference between no and know.
In moments when rules are made to excuse responsibility I thank God- for mortality. Someday it will all end.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Whoever Said...
Women had this level of discretion was wrong. I had a conversation yesterday with a woman explaining that her immodium a.d. is not working fast enough. She even went as far as to mention the words vomit and diarhea ( I know that's spelled wrong). I am sure she still holds composure and denies sweating or farting.
Sunday, June 26, 2005
Ain't Too Proud to Shut Up
So much has happened in the past few days that I am uncertain to what extent I should speak. Last week I came to the realization that city or suburb, I hate parades. I was woken up to the loud and proud Puerto Rican community storming the avenue like there was an opening at shortstop.
There is something to be said about the way they demonstrate their cultural pride. Their is no subtlety to being Puerto Rican. Not even will the standard mini flag from the mirror do in such a case. Bring out the big honkin' flag that would be soaring atop the capital building. But where does one put such a large obstruction of vision? The hood, maybe. How about making your children hold the flagpole out the window as you cruise the city. Papi is just so proud of you.
I don't know if there is any other purpose of the parade but to interfere with other people's plans. No park use, no regular street use, no sleeping in until 9:30. I was woken by honking at 8:30am. ON A SATURDAY! I live on a sidestreet. Who comes down such a minor road? "We must make sure the WHOLE city knows of our great culture." Hey newsflash buddy: We all can hear the subwoofers coming from two blocks away. Great, great culture indeed.
No one can argue the pride message of the parade, now the tact and diplomacy yes, Same thing goes for any parade. I don't care. St. Patrick's Day get off the street you drunks. Parades are used to maintain the image and legacy of a culture. God forbid someone come up with a more efficient display of middle child syndrom.
I come off smug about this because parades are just like festivals and zoos. I always get stuck inbetween to women that make the Fridge look dainty and they stink to high heaven. There are a collection of people that don't bathe regularly, they go to the free events and walk slow and block 2/3 of the walkway with an ass that could stop a cannon ball. All a parade will do is shed light on all the stereotypes we use. Parades: Keeping grandpa's jokes applicable.
The level of pride and arrogance about one's culture just makes me realize that infact that I am proud and times arrogant- of my cultural modesty. I need no flag, no parade, no sticker on my car to let people know where I never visited. I am American, that works good enough for me.
There is something to be said about the way they demonstrate their cultural pride. Their is no subtlety to being Puerto Rican. Not even will the standard mini flag from the mirror do in such a case. Bring out the big honkin' flag that would be soaring atop the capital building. But where does one put such a large obstruction of vision? The hood, maybe. How about making your children hold the flagpole out the window as you cruise the city. Papi is just so proud of you.
I don't know if there is any other purpose of the parade but to interfere with other people's plans. No park use, no regular street use, no sleeping in until 9:30. I was woken by honking at 8:30am. ON A SATURDAY! I live on a sidestreet. Who comes down such a minor road? "We must make sure the WHOLE city knows of our great culture." Hey newsflash buddy: We all can hear the subwoofers coming from two blocks away. Great, great culture indeed.
No one can argue the pride message of the parade, now the tact and diplomacy yes, Same thing goes for any parade. I don't care. St. Patrick's Day get off the street you drunks. Parades are used to maintain the image and legacy of a culture. God forbid someone come up with a more efficient display of middle child syndrom.
I come off smug about this because parades are just like festivals and zoos. I always get stuck inbetween to women that make the Fridge look dainty and they stink to high heaven. There are a collection of people that don't bathe regularly, they go to the free events and walk slow and block 2/3 of the walkway with an ass that could stop a cannon ball. All a parade will do is shed light on all the stereotypes we use. Parades: Keeping grandpa's jokes applicable.
The level of pride and arrogance about one's culture just makes me realize that infact that I am proud and times arrogant- of my cultural modesty. I need no flag, no parade, no sticker on my car to let people know where I never visited. I am American, that works good enough for me.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
The Loop
I am in the process of something wonderful. However I made the mistake of mentioning it to some people before it goes off. Being in the loop is something that most people think that they are but it's a minority of those we trust. So I began to wonder how do you earn the trust of people so quickly?
1. Cook for them. If someone lets you take care of the preparation of any food that clearly is a big sign. Unless you're making something like salad or deviled eggs. Anything that can be at a party without supervision is not cooking for people. In my brief party experience the layer dip is something that I can no longer pretend to "have later." The chef/dip person makes sure that all that enter the party try the dip. A sort of tortilla vigil perhaps. I don't appreciate the "come on one chip won't kill you." Yeah but from the mere scent alone it is killing my appetite.
2. Transport them. Anytime that someone asks someone to pick up or drop off there should be compensation of nice meal or sex. That's just the street value of a lift, so I hear. So riders beware.
3. Open up. The best mistake ever. Whatever nugget of trivia given will soon grow inside their head until it eats it's way back to the mouth and falls out infront of the wrong people. The tragedy of a leaky secret is not in the awakening that is had, it's the what?! you told WHO first!! moment. Best of luck working through this one, especially if you are in a committed relationship.
4. Intimacy. Now this is a tough one since I have a terrible thought of always wondering what jackoff got to this person before I met them. My only solace is that we are all able to consult the high quality evaluations at a free clinic...just incase.
The loop is something that is just like the locale. If you are there it's one of the most coveted areas yet will cost you an arm and a leg to tell others that they are not where you are.
1. Cook for them. If someone lets you take care of the preparation of any food that clearly is a big sign. Unless you're making something like salad or deviled eggs. Anything that can be at a party without supervision is not cooking for people. In my brief party experience the layer dip is something that I can no longer pretend to "have later." The chef/dip person makes sure that all that enter the party try the dip. A sort of tortilla vigil perhaps. I don't appreciate the "come on one chip won't kill you." Yeah but from the mere scent alone it is killing my appetite.
2. Transport them. Anytime that someone asks someone to pick up or drop off there should be compensation of nice meal or sex. That's just the street value of a lift, so I hear. So riders beware.
3. Open up. The best mistake ever. Whatever nugget of trivia given will soon grow inside their head until it eats it's way back to the mouth and falls out infront of the wrong people. The tragedy of a leaky secret is not in the awakening that is had, it's the what?! you told WHO first!! moment. Best of luck working through this one, especially if you are in a committed relationship.
4. Intimacy. Now this is a tough one since I have a terrible thought of always wondering what jackoff got to this person before I met them. My only solace is that we are all able to consult the high quality evaluations at a free clinic...just incase.
The loop is something that is just like the locale. If you are there it's one of the most coveted areas yet will cost you an arm and a leg to tell others that they are not where you are.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Put Down the Prayer Candles!!!
Beyonce' and her houston hoochies are finally calling it quits. I know, tough as it is, it is time to move on. But who will bring us follow up singles to "bootylicious" "survivor" and of course "nasty girl?" Probably Gwen Stefani.
I really did like this group. Granted I was on my death bed and the fantasy of getting it on with someone not white was topping the list so I would have something to discuss in the afterlife. Farewell Beyonce', looks like you can finally use "Goldmember" as her acting catapult and not have to worry about explaining the lack of back up sisters.
Sometime in college I was informed that black women in particular, wear extensions. Never knew it until then. Do women actually think that wearing another person's hair is the best option. I think that chemo patients have the right to get a bit upset. I know what you're thinking, a bit sassy today why so? Life was crazy today.
~~~~~~~
So the verdict. Let's discuss. Wait, I didn't watch or care since I know that celebrity justice is more than just a piss pour show on late night tv.
~~~~~~~
I put the air on in the car for the first time this year. I don't have air in the apartment. Time to move into my car.
~~~~~~~
I dropped the f bomb by 9:30am at work today after a candidate cancelled for the third time. I can actually feel the inner Republican growing stronger.
~~~~~~~
Am I the only one that thinks
- the villan in Batman Begins should have been played by Josh Jackson or James Van DerBeek?
- Hillary Duff looks like Jenna Jameson's younger sister?
- Adam Sandler and Melissa Etheridge sound the same singing?
- Stone Phillips is the original father of Vicki from "Small Wonder?"
- NBC prides itself on sports ESPN said no to ? ( Arena League, Nascar, WNBA, track and field)
- now that the Cubs are winning the North side can forget those pesky rapes?
I really did like this group. Granted I was on my death bed and the fantasy of getting it on with someone not white was topping the list so I would have something to discuss in the afterlife. Farewell Beyonce', looks like you can finally use "Goldmember" as her acting catapult and not have to worry about explaining the lack of back up sisters.
Sometime in college I was informed that black women in particular, wear extensions. Never knew it until then. Do women actually think that wearing another person's hair is the best option. I think that chemo patients have the right to get a bit upset. I know what you're thinking, a bit sassy today why so? Life was crazy today.
~~~~~~~
So the verdict. Let's discuss. Wait, I didn't watch or care since I know that celebrity justice is more than just a piss pour show on late night tv.
~~~~~~~
I put the air on in the car for the first time this year. I don't have air in the apartment. Time to move into my car.
~~~~~~~
I dropped the f bomb by 9:30am at work today after a candidate cancelled for the third time. I can actually feel the inner Republican growing stronger.
~~~~~~~
Am I the only one that thinks
- the villan in Batman Begins should have been played by Josh Jackson or James Van DerBeek?
- Hillary Duff looks like Jenna Jameson's younger sister?
- Adam Sandler and Melissa Etheridge sound the same singing?
- Stone Phillips is the original father of Vicki from "Small Wonder?"
- NBC prides itself on sports ESPN said no to ? ( Arena League, Nascar, WNBA, track and field)
- now that the Cubs are winning the North side can forget those pesky rapes?
Saturday, June 04, 2005
Coming Attractions
Just a bit of updating for you all. The following projects are to be coming in the next couple months.
Leftovers- a short film about a date ruined and saved by the quirks of each person's family. This is going into production in July with an anticipated premiere in August.
Stand up- well I am working on that as best I can, unfortunatelly clubs go through agencies. Where's my agent? Coming soon I hope.
Improv- Well auditions for the next wave are nearing, if all goes well the premiere to Leftovers can be the announcement of many types of great entertainment news.
"The Show"- a sketch show to be coming to Chicagoland in the early Fall. Featuring writings by yourstruly and a core of writers that pissed way too much money into classes. Not to forget a featured guest sketch each week.
I know it seems intense and not all will go as smoothly as planned. Feel free to comment on your cynicism, I'd love to know exactly who I will be proving wrong by Halloween.
Leftovers- a short film about a date ruined and saved by the quirks of each person's family. This is going into production in July with an anticipated premiere in August.
Stand up- well I am working on that as best I can, unfortunatelly clubs go through agencies. Where's my agent? Coming soon I hope.
Improv- Well auditions for the next wave are nearing, if all goes well the premiere to Leftovers can be the announcement of many types of great entertainment news.
"The Show"- a sketch show to be coming to Chicagoland in the early Fall. Featuring writings by yourstruly and a core of writers that pissed way too much money into classes. Not to forget a featured guest sketch each week.
I know it seems intense and not all will go as smoothly as planned. Feel free to comment on your cynicism, I'd love to know exactly who I will be proving wrong by Halloween.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Part of the Game
So this past weekend was wonderful and educational. What I thought was a clever idea put me in the same role as a large girl wearing the backless shirt. I tried to fit in my little league jersey. To my defense it fit. To those who love male butt cleav, that was the outfit for you. Hindsight is clear but I still am animate about not wearing button down shirts out on the weekend. I'm not your ex-boyfriend's boyfriend. All those guys look like the smurfs. Now I know why there was only one girl on that show.
Anyway. I also learned the BYOB policy is acceptable for beer. Bring a case, 6 or 12. For those bringing liquor, apparently an entire bottle is needed before you can show your face. Not I. I went extra selfish and packed a flask of Jameson. I later divied up some shots for a few people. I was mocked by one gal and then when I offered her some free booze she did what all good girls do and shut her yapper and took the free booze. Her shoes were too pointy.
Yes, I am like that. There is a theory I am testing. The pointier a woman's shoe is, the higher maintainence she is. Guys, my suggestion of places to look after the typical chest, butt, and complete tattoo search is as follows; finger (for ring), eyes (for early wrinkles from chronic tanning), then shoes. If those things are at a point that they can chip away a block of ice. Back off. For your and your wallet's safety back away. To me it just reminds me of the Chineses culture when they stuffed women's feet in shoes so small they were permanently broken.
We played softball two nights ago. I sucked. One week after a great game I sucked. Tbere was a ditch for batter's boxes and I damn near fell out of it each time. Twice I lost balance on the way to first and fell face forward. My knee is reopened and life is grand. Oh, I also took a liner off my shin and now it is noticeably swollen.
The way things are going I am lead to believe the world will all be married by Halloween. But at least the chicken will be good.
Anyway. I also learned the BYOB policy is acceptable for beer. Bring a case, 6 or 12. For those bringing liquor, apparently an entire bottle is needed before you can show your face. Not I. I went extra selfish and packed a flask of Jameson. I later divied up some shots for a few people. I was mocked by one gal and then when I offered her some free booze she did what all good girls do and shut her yapper and took the free booze. Her shoes were too pointy.
Yes, I am like that. There is a theory I am testing. The pointier a woman's shoe is, the higher maintainence she is. Guys, my suggestion of places to look after the typical chest, butt, and complete tattoo search is as follows; finger (for ring), eyes (for early wrinkles from chronic tanning), then shoes. If those things are at a point that they can chip away a block of ice. Back off. For your and your wallet's safety back away. To me it just reminds me of the Chineses culture when they stuffed women's feet in shoes so small they were permanently broken.
We played softball two nights ago. I sucked. One week after a great game I sucked. Tbere was a ditch for batter's boxes and I damn near fell out of it each time. Twice I lost balance on the way to first and fell face forward. My knee is reopened and life is grand. Oh, I also took a liner off my shin and now it is noticeably swollen.
The way things are going I am lead to believe the world will all be married by Halloween. But at least the chicken will be good.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
35-14
The other day I wenr to get fitted for my tux for another friend's wedding I am in. Initially a good moment from the compliment on my suit, turned sour. The clerk asked for my waist size, 34. He measured, a 35. A 35. Now I have been pleased being a 34-34 for a number of years. To me it's about keeping the battle versus inseam and waist a tie. Somewhere between the brats and occasional sit ups there was a foul and the waist went to the line making one of two.
I am not worried as much as I am worried. There is now only 5 inches from a 40 waist. Which there is nothing wrong with a 40, but I am (kind of) trying to get a 6 pack. Refocused I have decided to try and cut down on some of the finer things in life. I went to the store and shopped healthy.
Sure I picked up frozen pizzas, but that's only because the Pizzazz hasn't been used in a month. I bought salads, peppers, cucumbers, carrots, vitamin d milk, and for a snack - yogurt. You know you feel bad about your body image when you eat yogurt. I can't believe anyone in their right mind would actually eat spoiled milk with fruit bits in it for fun.
Yogurt is such a reflective food item. Through the whole cup I was thinking "what have I done wrong?" This new quest to purge the pudge will give me reason to cut out beer and go back to the cocktail, and the gym.
My return to the gym came last night. I showed up for some lap swim. I swam for a shorter time in a shorter pool than in Ripon but at least I was there. I went and took out a kickboard and leg foam for specific drills I recall from the team. While using the kickboard (which clearly works your legs), the life guard was cleaning up after family swim. He took my leg foam. Hello, I just ask you five minutes ago if I could use the aforementioned piece of foam. Dillhole.
So I swam. The form was the stellar cellar of D-III athletics some may have witnessed. Once my arms turned jello, I tried a flip turn. Beautiful, now I just need to work past the flushing of my sinuses by all that water. Someday that'll happen.
I returned home to then eat, and watch season 3 of Seinfeld. Ahh life is so sweet. With plans to hit an open mic at midnight I was set and pleased with my day. Then I passed out on the couch. Woke up to Rob's call hoping that he didn't want to hang out due to my now motionless body. He was staying in since he had to work today. FIne with me. I went back to passing out.
2:30 in the morning wakes me up and I move to the bedroom. I stayed there until 11:30 this morning. Thus almost breaking the longest healthy sleep record with a 14.5 hour sleep. I will let you know that I dreamt about the next x-men movies and it will be great, especially if like my dream I am in them.
I am not worried as much as I am worried. There is now only 5 inches from a 40 waist. Which there is nothing wrong with a 40, but I am (kind of) trying to get a 6 pack. Refocused I have decided to try and cut down on some of the finer things in life. I went to the store and shopped healthy.
Sure I picked up frozen pizzas, but that's only because the Pizzazz hasn't been used in a month. I bought salads, peppers, cucumbers, carrots, vitamin d milk, and for a snack - yogurt. You know you feel bad about your body image when you eat yogurt. I can't believe anyone in their right mind would actually eat spoiled milk with fruit bits in it for fun.
Yogurt is such a reflective food item. Through the whole cup I was thinking "what have I done wrong?" This new quest to purge the pudge will give me reason to cut out beer and go back to the cocktail, and the gym.
My return to the gym came last night. I showed up for some lap swim. I swam for a shorter time in a shorter pool than in Ripon but at least I was there. I went and took out a kickboard and leg foam for specific drills I recall from the team. While using the kickboard (which clearly works your legs), the life guard was cleaning up after family swim. He took my leg foam. Hello, I just ask you five minutes ago if I could use the aforementioned piece of foam. Dillhole.
So I swam. The form was the stellar cellar of D-III athletics some may have witnessed. Once my arms turned jello, I tried a flip turn. Beautiful, now I just need to work past the flushing of my sinuses by all that water. Someday that'll happen.
I returned home to then eat, and watch season 3 of Seinfeld. Ahh life is so sweet. With plans to hit an open mic at midnight I was set and pleased with my day. Then I passed out on the couch. Woke up to Rob's call hoping that he didn't want to hang out due to my now motionless body. He was staying in since he had to work today. FIne with me. I went back to passing out.
2:30 in the morning wakes me up and I move to the bedroom. I stayed there until 11:30 this morning. Thus almost breaking the longest healthy sleep record with a 14.5 hour sleep. I will let you know that I dreamt about the next x-men movies and it will be great, especially if like my dream I am in them.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Fatty Fat Fat
I started today with a parking ticket. Yeah! It's good to know that it cost me $50 to find out that there is actually a police presence in my neighborhood. I ate another chicken pot pie for lunch. Although tasty they are not that good due to the insane number of peas in there. For some reason I will eat snow peas (peas in a pod) and the standard pea is not something I would willingly chew.
Sometime people think that it's the same no matter what. Not true- the presentation creates a whole different experience. I had another Healthy Choice meal yesterday and damn near vomited, just so I had something with flavor to eat. If you were going to eat the beef merlot, don't. It forced me to go to the cafeteria at work. I now know why people are afraid to be over 30. They have to eat that bullshit and pretend to like it.
I have a horrible diet and I know it. I will have my moments of eating balanced meals, typically when in a relationship. Regardless of that I treat the diet as it should be treated. Ride the peperonni wave until it's all over. Let's not be ignorant, we know how it's going to end, why would I choose a cob salad over an Al's Beef combo?
On an unrelated matter, I have a bit of a ponch. Trying to kick that is hard mainly since well everyone tends to repay me in deliciously fatty food. Diets are never possible if you are one that feels each moment should be lived to its fullest. Again, it may change only if there is a chance to impress someone that you can eat more than a case of Pringles and a stuffed crust pizza.
Sometime people think that it's the same no matter what. Not true- the presentation creates a whole different experience. I had another Healthy Choice meal yesterday and damn near vomited, just so I had something with flavor to eat. If you were going to eat the beef merlot, don't. It forced me to go to the cafeteria at work. I now know why people are afraid to be over 30. They have to eat that bullshit and pretend to like it.
I have a horrible diet and I know it. I will have my moments of eating balanced meals, typically when in a relationship. Regardless of that I treat the diet as it should be treated. Ride the peperonni wave until it's all over. Let's not be ignorant, we know how it's going to end, why would I choose a cob salad over an Al's Beef combo?
On an unrelated matter, I have a bit of a ponch. Trying to kick that is hard mainly since well everyone tends to repay me in deliciously fatty food. Diets are never possible if you are one that feels each moment should be lived to its fullest. Again, it may change only if there is a chance to impress someone that you can eat more than a case of Pringles and a stuffed crust pizza.
Monday, May 23, 2005
Better Than Nachos?
No way. It couldn't be. Could it? For the past umpteen years my appetite has been quite public for its affection toward nachos, specifically cheese, salsa, and sour cream. Ooh yeah. Well Dan and Steph gave us all the coolest treat of all at the reception. A CHOCOLATE FOUNTAIN!
Have you ever seen one? Perhaps this is the fountain Ponce was looking for. It flowed like Barry White lyrics over the fruits, cookies, pretzles and fingers of all. Who made this thing? I mean really what stoner am I indebited to this time. It seems that all my favorite snacks came from the back end of some narcotic assistance.
The chocolate fountain reminded me of those Coco-Puff commercials that used to runny. Which by the way Sunny is the creepiest of all cereal mascots. I am just amazed, I was really set on a nacho platter- only because I could have sworn I heard talk of such mexi-happiness. Then again I don't just have selective hearing I have wishful hearing.
~~~~~~~
I would write more about the reception but I just got back from seeing Episode III and it was magnificent. The third movie I have seen on my own. I feel that is better for critical analysis.
Ever since Garden State I can totally tell that Natalie Portman wants me. Would I convert for her? I think there could be a common ground established. It is afterall Hollywood.
~~~~~~~
Maybe it's nostalgia kicking in again but I sure could go for a Slurpee. That $1.30 tub of aired out Mountain Dew sure made me a happy camper. Did I ever mention that my friends and I at the movie theater back when I was 16 invented what is now Code Red? Sure we didn't document that but I blame that on the free refill policy at the theater. So weak, yet so delicious.
~~~~~~~
Can radio stations stop playing Pearl Jam's Jeremy, Alive, or Evenflow? Ten came out more than ten years ago, let it go. Somewhere there are community college linemen hitting the repeat button on their new removable face car stereo. Thank God I am still not cool.
Have you ever seen one? Perhaps this is the fountain Ponce was looking for. It flowed like Barry White lyrics over the fruits, cookies, pretzles and fingers of all. Who made this thing? I mean really what stoner am I indebited to this time. It seems that all my favorite snacks came from the back end of some narcotic assistance.
The chocolate fountain reminded me of those Coco-Puff commercials that used to runny. Which by the way Sunny is the creepiest of all cereal mascots. I am just amazed, I was really set on a nacho platter- only because I could have sworn I heard talk of such mexi-happiness. Then again I don't just have selective hearing I have wishful hearing.
~~~~~~~
I would write more about the reception but I just got back from seeing Episode III and it was magnificent. The third movie I have seen on my own. I feel that is better for critical analysis.
Ever since Garden State I can totally tell that Natalie Portman wants me. Would I convert for her? I think there could be a common ground established. It is afterall Hollywood.
~~~~~~~
Maybe it's nostalgia kicking in again but I sure could go for a Slurpee. That $1.30 tub of aired out Mountain Dew sure made me a happy camper. Did I ever mention that my friends and I at the movie theater back when I was 16 invented what is now Code Red? Sure we didn't document that but I blame that on the free refill policy at the theater. So weak, yet so delicious.
~~~~~~~
Can radio stations stop playing Pearl Jam's Jeremy, Alive, or Evenflow? Ten came out more than ten years ago, let it go. Somewhere there are community college linemen hitting the repeat button on their new removable face car stereo. Thank God I am still not cool.
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Three Ringed Circus
Well my brother got married this weekend. I was the best man and that was really cool. There were about half a dozen more things that I was responsible for than originally thought. Not until I took care of the rings though.
Now here is the story above all others here. Dan had one ring, Steph had two rings (one for each side of the engagement ring- sort of a pimp my wedding band thing). Anyway, she has such small fingers that I noticed her rings could become lodged inside of Dan's. So I chose to separate them in my pocket.
It just so happened that I chose to do this as the procession in was begining. The groomsmen were off to the side and were to meet with the bridesmaids at the aisle. I had separate the rings and placed one in the internal pocket inside the pocket. Due to my excessive sweaty hands the other one of her rings became stuck to my hand, then upon pulling it out of the pocket it fell off my hand. The only reason I knew was that the sound it made hitting my ever so comfortable tux shoe.
Within moments, I realized I couldn't keep this a secret. Every one asked if I was joking. I began to fear that I would be first ever in family history to be impeached from the Best Man role. Then with all the groomsmen crawling around on the side of the church, it was found. I thank John Rossi immensely for that. I apologized to Dan and then made sure the rings were in separate parts of the pocket. All's well that ends well right?
Nope. See I am confident that moment made me more nervous about the whole ceremony than either the bride or groom. When the deacon (a whole story on his own) asked for the rings I took them out one at a time. My hands were prespiring as though they were in a sauna or something. Delicately I took one ring, the next ring. The pocket was deep and bunching up on my bulbous sweaty digits. The Deacon then says "go ahead and take your time, you've got all day." His ignorance of the previous situation makes me take his comment in stride.
Crisis averted and we leave the church. Almost. People are coming up to me, for some reason. They insist on telling me that what I did with the rings was comic genius. Not giving them at one time. Right, watch out National Lampoon, here comes a tall bafoon that makes people laugh through his own futility. Ok that actually sounds better than how I see.
A best man must make sure that not only does the wedding end happily, but that it's memorable. Oh I do believe I succeeded on both fronts. Can't wait to mention the reception tomorrow.
Now here is the story above all others here. Dan had one ring, Steph had two rings (one for each side of the engagement ring- sort of a pimp my wedding band thing). Anyway, she has such small fingers that I noticed her rings could become lodged inside of Dan's. So I chose to separate them in my pocket.
It just so happened that I chose to do this as the procession in was begining. The groomsmen were off to the side and were to meet with the bridesmaids at the aisle. I had separate the rings and placed one in the internal pocket inside the pocket. Due to my excessive sweaty hands the other one of her rings became stuck to my hand, then upon pulling it out of the pocket it fell off my hand. The only reason I knew was that the sound it made hitting my ever so comfortable tux shoe.
Within moments, I realized I couldn't keep this a secret. Every one asked if I was joking. I began to fear that I would be first ever in family history to be impeached from the Best Man role. Then with all the groomsmen crawling around on the side of the church, it was found. I thank John Rossi immensely for that. I apologized to Dan and then made sure the rings were in separate parts of the pocket. All's well that ends well right?
Nope. See I am confident that moment made me more nervous about the whole ceremony than either the bride or groom. When the deacon (a whole story on his own) asked for the rings I took them out one at a time. My hands were prespiring as though they were in a sauna or something. Delicately I took one ring, the next ring. The pocket was deep and bunching up on my bulbous sweaty digits. The Deacon then says "go ahead and take your time, you've got all day." His ignorance of the previous situation makes me take his comment in stride.
Crisis averted and we leave the church. Almost. People are coming up to me, for some reason. They insist on telling me that what I did with the rings was comic genius. Not giving them at one time. Right, watch out National Lampoon, here comes a tall bafoon that makes people laugh through his own futility. Ok that actually sounds better than how I see.
A best man must make sure that not only does the wedding end happily, but that it's memorable. Oh I do believe I succeeded on both fronts. Can't wait to mention the reception tomorrow.
Saturday, May 14, 2005
Make it Stop
Well well well. Let me tell you about the most recent of my obsessions. The McDonald's dollar menu. In one weekend I ate 3 double cheeseburgers. THREE people. That's a lot. Since I normally have been a mcnugget guy. Now the mcnuggets are all upset since they aren't getting any love. Calm down mcnugs, everyone gets a turn. You had like I don't know about twenty plus years of dietary monopoly. Things change, people have phases but I know I will never stray from the beauty and deliciuousness of the sweet and sour sauce.
~~~~~~~~
Last night I went out with some buddies and it was great. I grew a new nemesis, found solace in another, impressed myself, and even got free beer.
So I was to meet jj and steve with rob at some bar. Great no problem. I felt all sorts of prepared by having the cab co in my cell phone. I called them. Told them where I was and they told me that in about 5-20 minutes the cab shall arrive. Rob and I sit on the curb drinking our beer- yes we're that tough. I called the cab place again five minutes later. "I am calling to restate the legitamacy of my cab request." The disbatcher then tells me that "we don't service your area." I'll take bullshit for 200.
We walk to a busy intersection and as we walk there's a cab to that very company. For the rest of the night I cursed at any cab that was from that company.
~~~~~~~~
So at the bar my theory was proven into social law. I wore a 1990's commemoration t- shirt for the demolition of Comiskey Park. Why? I knew that every guy there would be wearing a freaking button down shirt (striped or not). Was I right? Dead on. The evening dresscode now is a button down shirt, add stripes if you want to give the impression that you have an electric guitar or something else you don't use - like a gym membership.
Enter a shorter brown haired girl. Name ANdrea. I stress where the syllable is because there was an AnDREa there too. You broads need to realize your name is not ever unique. The crazy need to spell or correct pronunciation just lets us all know how high maintainence you are.
She was drawn to my t-shirt. Maybe it was the glow-in-the-dark feature, or the fact I was the only one that had just a t-shirt on. Anyway, she eventually tied a balloon to my belt loop- she wants me right? I know just another girl that gets smitten like a kitten to be near such a tall guy. I ripped it off my belt loop.
As the night ends there, this bald man keeps following her around. Why? Did he not see the balloon incident? Does he not understand the marking of one's territory. I was marked. Just on appearance I felt I was safe. About four or five free beers into it I walked up to her and asked "You're not really going to go home with that bald guy are you?" She then replies "That bald guy is my boyfriend." Do I apologize? Do I try and compliment my way to forgiveness? I said "Well, good luck with that." I then turned to my friends and said ok now it's time to go.
That sort of impecable timing is something you're born with, so don't try it if you don't have it.
~~~~~~~~
Last night I went out with some buddies and it was great. I grew a new nemesis, found solace in another, impressed myself, and even got free beer.
So I was to meet jj and steve with rob at some bar. Great no problem. I felt all sorts of prepared by having the cab co in my cell phone. I called them. Told them where I was and they told me that in about 5-20 minutes the cab shall arrive. Rob and I sit on the curb drinking our beer- yes we're that tough. I called the cab place again five minutes later. "I am calling to restate the legitamacy of my cab request." The disbatcher then tells me that "we don't service your area." I'll take bullshit for 200.
We walk to a busy intersection and as we walk there's a cab to that very company. For the rest of the night I cursed at any cab that was from that company.
~~~~~~~~
So at the bar my theory was proven into social law. I wore a 1990's commemoration t- shirt for the demolition of Comiskey Park. Why? I knew that every guy there would be wearing a freaking button down shirt (striped or not). Was I right? Dead on. The evening dresscode now is a button down shirt, add stripes if you want to give the impression that you have an electric guitar or something else you don't use - like a gym membership.
Enter a shorter brown haired girl. Name ANdrea. I stress where the syllable is because there was an AnDREa there too. You broads need to realize your name is not ever unique. The crazy need to spell or correct pronunciation just lets us all know how high maintainence you are.
She was drawn to my t-shirt. Maybe it was the glow-in-the-dark feature, or the fact I was the only one that had just a t-shirt on. Anyway, she eventually tied a balloon to my belt loop- she wants me right? I know just another girl that gets smitten like a kitten to be near such a tall guy. I ripped it off my belt loop.
As the night ends there, this bald man keeps following her around. Why? Did he not see the balloon incident? Does he not understand the marking of one's territory. I was marked. Just on appearance I felt I was safe. About four or five free beers into it I walked up to her and asked "You're not really going to go home with that bald guy are you?" She then replies "That bald guy is my boyfriend." Do I apologize? Do I try and compliment my way to forgiveness? I said "Well, good luck with that." I then turned to my friends and said ok now it's time to go.
That sort of impecable timing is something you're born with, so don't try it if you don't have it.
Friday, May 06, 2005
Ripon-Good Times
Last Saturday I went back to college for the first time classes were in session since my own graduation. What a great feeling. All my old friends and infatuations were there to make me feel the warmth of being the original tall lanky bastard. I went back into the fraternity house which for those unfamiliar is a dorm- we're a resedential campus.
There were so many changes made on campus since I was last there. Construction everywhere, paint actually staying in presentable condition and even freshman. Wow, I love the twinkle in the eye of underclassmen. There is something about their own ignorance of not knowing how good they have it.
I caught up with the guys, which at one point lead to me getting beer poured down my back by Nick Greenwood, friend and former chem tutor. In a fit of revenge my thought was to poor beer in retaliation on someone else knowing their own innocence, but thinking that this would make them pour beer on Nick. Nope. More beer down my back. At least I wasn't able to shower for a full day.
There was a great moment for me to realize I was drunk. I saw who is called Baby Huey and well, she went by the hall while I was on my way to the bathroom. I grabbed the right shoulder of my friend Rob, pulled him in close to drunken whisper-shout "Dude, Baby Huey!" Rob then turned to me to reveal that he was not Rob. I have joked about being gay but when you whisper "Dude, Baby Huey" into someone's ear on their way to the urinal- that could be code for something only the community would know. How I left the bathroom without a black eye or phone number amazes me.
I am a chump. Full out. For some reason I was drinking a beer in the hall and the hall director came by and asked me to pour out the beer. WHAT!? Fearing repercussions for the brothers, I did so. Then came the bitch slap. He asked me to take the can out of the water fountain (bubbler-for WI residents) and put it in the trash. I was too drunk to reason but tried to do so once he left. I take no insult to the request, I understand my college is accepting of inhebreation, as long as it doesn't interfere with the beautification.
Thank you all at Ripon, I had such a good time I might even vote republican next time.
There were so many changes made on campus since I was last there. Construction everywhere, paint actually staying in presentable condition and even freshman. Wow, I love the twinkle in the eye of underclassmen. There is something about their own ignorance of not knowing how good they have it.
I caught up with the guys, which at one point lead to me getting beer poured down my back by Nick Greenwood, friend and former chem tutor. In a fit of revenge my thought was to poor beer in retaliation on someone else knowing their own innocence, but thinking that this would make them pour beer on Nick. Nope. More beer down my back. At least I wasn't able to shower for a full day.
There was a great moment for me to realize I was drunk. I saw who is called Baby Huey and well, she went by the hall while I was on my way to the bathroom. I grabbed the right shoulder of my friend Rob, pulled him in close to drunken whisper-shout "Dude, Baby Huey!" Rob then turned to me to reveal that he was not Rob. I have joked about being gay but when you whisper "Dude, Baby Huey" into someone's ear on their way to the urinal- that could be code for something only the community would know. How I left the bathroom without a black eye or phone number amazes me.
I am a chump. Full out. For some reason I was drinking a beer in the hall and the hall director came by and asked me to pour out the beer. WHAT!? Fearing repercussions for the brothers, I did so. Then came the bitch slap. He asked me to take the can out of the water fountain (bubbler-for WI residents) and put it in the trash. I was too drunk to reason but tried to do so once he left. I take no insult to the request, I understand my college is accepting of inhebreation, as long as it doesn't interfere with the beautification.
Thank you all at Ripon, I had such a good time I might even vote republican next time.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
Birthday Horroscopes
I believe in fate, that's why I read my horroscopes the day after. I didn't make up the second one. Last year they told me Uma Thurmond has the same birthday as me. These are pulled from the paper, not Cosmo or some crap like that.
APRIL 29 IS YOUR BIRTHDAY: Your intellectual prowess wins fans and money this year! Changing the cast of characters in your work realm will infuse you with new energy over the next three months. Property and inheritance matters are resolved in September. A sensational romance has you floating through the summer. Love signs are Virgo and Capricorn. Your lucky numbers are 20, 3, 1, 14 and 40.
IF APRIL 29 IS YOUR BIRTHDAY: Comedian Jerry Seinfeld (1954) shares your birthday. You're aware of your image. You are self-possessed and dignified. You have excellent social skills. You value the good opinion of others. You handle responsibilities well. You have an above-average interest in your wardrobe and your appearance because you want to look good! The year ahead is social, fun-loving, and it favors romance!
Two horroscope people saying there's a good chance for romance. Ooh la la! I certainly hope she's a gymnast or massuse, or well not ugly.
APRIL 29 IS YOUR BIRTHDAY: Your intellectual prowess wins fans and money this year! Changing the cast of characters in your work realm will infuse you with new energy over the next three months. Property and inheritance matters are resolved in September. A sensational romance has you floating through the summer. Love signs are Virgo and Capricorn. Your lucky numbers are 20, 3, 1, 14 and 40.
IF APRIL 29 IS YOUR BIRTHDAY: Comedian Jerry Seinfeld (1954) shares your birthday. You're aware of your image. You are self-possessed and dignified. You have excellent social skills. You value the good opinion of others. You handle responsibilities well. You have an above-average interest in your wardrobe and your appearance because you want to look good! The year ahead is social, fun-loving, and it favors romance!
Two horroscope people saying there's a good chance for romance. Ooh la la! I certainly hope she's a gymnast or massuse, or well not ugly.
The Manhattan Project
Ok, so the blog has been down since there were tech issues with the connection. SBC came out and unplugged the same items I did and then it worked. Whatever I guess. I now believe in the power of the orange maintainence vest.
I went out Thursday night solo since my Golden Girl marathon was canceled. There is a bar near my place that has discounted martinis on Thursday, so I went. Upon sitting next to Norm and Cliff, I looked at the martini list. Now the thing with martinis is that most of the new ones are fruity one meant for women.
So I ordered a manhattan. Apparently that drink gave me mad respect in the bar by any guy near me. They all thought I was on classy guy ordering a manhattan. That was cool, but I didn't know how cool until Dewey told me he sells Makers Mark and was impressed I ordered one at my age. He bought my drinks, in a completely hetero way though.
The guys around me started talking to me and asking about myself and it was interesting that such a kinship can be forged over booze, wait no that's what booze does. I now sit in the same spot at the bar and will soon be a known regular there, which I think will end the free drinks.
~~~~~~~~~
I have learned so much about mass transit in the past day alone. See, I once went out on my own and I got to a transfer point and exited for my new train. I waited for about 35 minutes for my new ride. During that time I saw about five trains coming for the same line that I was just on. Frustrated at the hour and lack of service since it never came, I went home.
Now bring us to yesterday. Rob and I were at the same transfer point and then he threw me for a loop. We went upstairs. What?! I told him that I was waiting downstairs for 35 minutes. He laughed in my face as we went up what seemed to be the eternal escalator ride. I walked out onto the above ground walkway and sure enough, that's where I should have been weeks ago.
This all goes back to one of my weakness being arrows on signs. When the arrow is to indicate one direction I interpret for another. It said arrow to the right. I went right. Not right up the stairs. I feel as though I can reverse this shortcoming but I need someone in the transit dept to admit to the signs not being completely clear. I am such a moron. Only the obvious confuse me because it's so simple that I think no way, this shouldn't be this easy.
The level of difficulty of using the mass transit is so easy the blind can do it. This episode should be a pick me up for them, that is if someone is reading this to them right now.
I went out Thursday night solo since my Golden Girl marathon was canceled. There is a bar near my place that has discounted martinis on Thursday, so I went. Upon sitting next to Norm and Cliff, I looked at the martini list. Now the thing with martinis is that most of the new ones are fruity one meant for women.
So I ordered a manhattan. Apparently that drink gave me mad respect in the bar by any guy near me. They all thought I was on classy guy ordering a manhattan. That was cool, but I didn't know how cool until Dewey told me he sells Makers Mark and was impressed I ordered one at my age. He bought my drinks, in a completely hetero way though.
The guys around me started talking to me and asking about myself and it was interesting that such a kinship can be forged over booze, wait no that's what booze does. I now sit in the same spot at the bar and will soon be a known regular there, which I think will end the free drinks.
~~~~~~~~~
I have learned so much about mass transit in the past day alone. See, I once went out on my own and I got to a transfer point and exited for my new train. I waited for about 35 minutes for my new ride. During that time I saw about five trains coming for the same line that I was just on. Frustrated at the hour and lack of service since it never came, I went home.
Now bring us to yesterday. Rob and I were at the same transfer point and then he threw me for a loop. We went upstairs. What?! I told him that I was waiting downstairs for 35 minutes. He laughed in my face as we went up what seemed to be the eternal escalator ride. I walked out onto the above ground walkway and sure enough, that's where I should have been weeks ago.
This all goes back to one of my weakness being arrows on signs. When the arrow is to indicate one direction I interpret for another. It said arrow to the right. I went right. Not right up the stairs. I feel as though I can reverse this shortcoming but I need someone in the transit dept to admit to the signs not being completely clear. I am such a moron. Only the obvious confuse me because it's so simple that I think no way, this shouldn't be this easy.
The level of difficulty of using the mass transit is so easy the blind can do it. This episode should be a pick me up for them, that is if someone is reading this to them right now.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Red Rover
Nothing lets off steam like ten minutes of so of jumping rope while trying to follow an episode of Law and Order. No matter how bad my day may have been, the fines in NYC have it worse. So this is my second rope session and I like it. I can tell I jump lopsided since I am building blisters on the inside of my big toe.
I used to think jumping rope is lame, but now that I have one with the weights in it- definitely hardcore. It gives me reason to quit the Y. Then again I should go once or twice just to see if the women there are more out going than in other facilities. Picking up someone at the gym is something that has such visual pros and cons.
While there you get to see they don't want to either get fat, or feel ugly. Advantage health club. However, there are so many reasons not to talk while there- headphones, heart rate, closed captioning of Access Hollywood. Most women look good at the gym- ok most women that renew their membership look good. Advantage health club. The double negative here is the sweat factor. Shaking hands, dripping wherever, and worse of all back sweat. Mandy Moore herself could approach me but if she was all sweaty backed I would have to ask her to hit the shower.
~~~~~~~~
So on my recent drives I have come across something that makes me feel smarter than watching a boxing match. There are people selling M&M's with peanuts. Not even kids- grown pathetic people. Excuse me sir, what are those delectable looking chocolates in the yellow wrapper? I have NEVER seen them before.
No longer do I trust children's fundraisers. Somewhere behind each cubscout popcorn, girl scout samoa, or issue of Streetwise there is a corrupt person taking the generosity and mocking it. Do you really believe your standing in traffic will compell me to buy chocolate? Only if I see someone having a diabetic attack.
Now if there were Starburst or Payday maybe I could agree on supporting their now commendable efforts for alcohol.
~~~~~~~
I had honey nut Cheerios the other day. First time ever. In my life. There are so many things that I have been witholding from and I don't know why. I tried to then put banana on the Cheerios. That tasted all sorts of horrible. .The gooeyness of the potassium rod and the crunchiness of honey coated oat rings makes me wish for my cholesterol to never be high enough I have to do that again.
~~~~~~~
If you think ham and cheese is boring- toast it. Suddenly ham and cheese is back to being #1 in the lunch meat locker room. Thank you Sally Skillet and Molly Margerine for making it all possible. I also now know I really don't have a spatula, I thought I misplaced it. Nope I had to use a mixing spoon. Not nearly as effective.
I used to think jumping rope is lame, but now that I have one with the weights in it- definitely hardcore. It gives me reason to quit the Y. Then again I should go once or twice just to see if the women there are more out going than in other facilities. Picking up someone at the gym is something that has such visual pros and cons.
While there you get to see they don't want to either get fat, or feel ugly. Advantage health club. However, there are so many reasons not to talk while there- headphones, heart rate, closed captioning of Access Hollywood. Most women look good at the gym- ok most women that renew their membership look good. Advantage health club. The double negative here is the sweat factor. Shaking hands, dripping wherever, and worse of all back sweat. Mandy Moore herself could approach me but if she was all sweaty backed I would have to ask her to hit the shower.
~~~~~~~~
So on my recent drives I have come across something that makes me feel smarter than watching a boxing match. There are people selling M&M's with peanuts. Not even kids- grown pathetic people. Excuse me sir, what are those delectable looking chocolates in the yellow wrapper? I have NEVER seen them before.
No longer do I trust children's fundraisers. Somewhere behind each cubscout popcorn, girl scout samoa, or issue of Streetwise there is a corrupt person taking the generosity and mocking it. Do you really believe your standing in traffic will compell me to buy chocolate? Only if I see someone having a diabetic attack.
Now if there were Starburst or Payday maybe I could agree on supporting their now commendable efforts for alcohol.
~~~~~~~
I had honey nut Cheerios the other day. First time ever. In my life. There are so many things that I have been witholding from and I don't know why. I tried to then put banana on the Cheerios. That tasted all sorts of horrible. .The gooeyness of the potassium rod and the crunchiness of honey coated oat rings makes me wish for my cholesterol to never be high enough I have to do that again.
~~~~~~~
If you think ham and cheese is boring- toast it. Suddenly ham and cheese is back to being #1 in the lunch meat locker room. Thank you Sally Skillet and Molly Margerine for making it all possible. I also now know I really don't have a spatula, I thought I misplaced it. Nope I had to use a mixing spoon. Not nearly as effective.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Make it a Double
The kegerator. It has died. It took talking to my cousin in Mississippi to realize I am beyond the concept. Am I? This is a big decision. See I am the dream. I have been told by literally countless males that they are intending on living vicariously through me. Flattering, but that's a whole new pressure I didn't expect.
The kegerator is something many men ponder. I had a dream, where I had two kegerators that sat side by side ready to make the best black and tan a guy can hope for. I even have the official Guiness glasses. There are certain moments even I become trigger shy. Take for instance this whole kegerator, the more I talk about it the more I realize the kegerator is a sausage magnet.
I am consciencous of the ratio everytime I have people over. Only on certain cases do I allow a -1 or -2 ratio. I have now begun to construct the blue prints for the next big idea. A wet bar. To my knowledge that means bar, but wet makes it mean something classy.
As my NY Bartender book as my gospel, I will prepare for the end of month spectacular. The next additions will have to be something along the lines of wine, rum, midori, chambord, or brandy. The decision is tough since the necessity for grenadine should be mentioned in the same breath as jigger.
Not too many people understand the movement happening here. I am on the verge of creating one of the best recreational experiences that is not sex, but very may well lead to it. Pioneer I am not, but I am one hell of a host- I'd like to think.
I also would like to think this would come to actually happen. So blind by the sun I forget to look at the ground. This should be fun.
The kegerator is something many men ponder. I had a dream, where I had two kegerators that sat side by side ready to make the best black and tan a guy can hope for. I even have the official Guiness glasses. There are certain moments even I become trigger shy. Take for instance this whole kegerator, the more I talk about it the more I realize the kegerator is a sausage magnet.
I am consciencous of the ratio everytime I have people over. Only on certain cases do I allow a -1 or -2 ratio. I have now begun to construct the blue prints for the next big idea. A wet bar. To my knowledge that means bar, but wet makes it mean something classy.
As my NY Bartender book as my gospel, I will prepare for the end of month spectacular. The next additions will have to be something along the lines of wine, rum, midori, chambord, or brandy. The decision is tough since the necessity for grenadine should be mentioned in the same breath as jigger.
Not too many people understand the movement happening here. I am on the verge of creating one of the best recreational experiences that is not sex, but very may well lead to it. Pioneer I am not, but I am one hell of a host- I'd like to think.
I also would like to think this would come to actually happen. So blind by the sun I forget to look at the ground. This should be fun.
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Costco Anyone?
Welcome to life, as we know it. Now that I have the internet at my fingertips I can talk to as many people I would like. Just yesterday I went to the store with my mom for groceries. This was a great moment in bachelorhood transition. She let me push the cart and even load it.
I like the whole Costco experience. There is something about a single person shopping at a place meant to quench a natural disaster site. I went aisle to aisle, not wanting to miss a single lot of anything. Moments of weakness are much more significant there than any other shop. Never before have you had to rationalize a purchase and the ability to store it in your residence like this bulkland.
My heart went pitter patter twice. Once at the alcohol. The college in me said "ok, so one big storage bin, four blenders, some pineapple rings, cherry kool-aid and we are in business. " To my shigrin, chianti is not the mixer that Skol vodka once was. I managed to purchase a bottle of Skyy so large it should be made into a lamp. Thank you capitalism.
My jaw actually dropped upon the sight of Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwhiches, sausage, egg and cheese croissant. I restrained myself, claiming that would be a silly purchase. I then went over and grabbed a package of hotdogs with more than a ballpark vendor carries.
I was at one point scared. My mom, young at heart went wandering around the store, likely for some vegetables. I got to the point of excess. I reached for the cell phone to call her and find exactly where she was. I found her moments later between the ravioli and taquito chests.
Grocery shopping is a fulfilling time for young people. I remember my grandma asked me at Easter about living on my own. "What are you going to do for food?" I replied "well, I probably will go hunting- like everyone else." She chuckled, and then promptly removed my smart ass from the will.
I like knowing that I have food in the freezer. My belly will be full for a month now. The advantage of Costco is greatly noted as it was paired with one of the biggest downfalls to city life. No garaunteed parking space. Nothing like hauling random boxes of items that don't even match a block and half.
Where are the homeless when you need them?
I like the whole Costco experience. There is something about a single person shopping at a place meant to quench a natural disaster site. I went aisle to aisle, not wanting to miss a single lot of anything. Moments of weakness are much more significant there than any other shop. Never before have you had to rationalize a purchase and the ability to store it in your residence like this bulkland.
My heart went pitter patter twice. Once at the alcohol. The college in me said "ok, so one big storage bin, four blenders, some pineapple rings, cherry kool-aid and we are in business. " To my shigrin, chianti is not the mixer that Skol vodka once was. I managed to purchase a bottle of Skyy so large it should be made into a lamp. Thank you capitalism.
My jaw actually dropped upon the sight of Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwhiches, sausage, egg and cheese croissant. I restrained myself, claiming that would be a silly purchase. I then went over and grabbed a package of hotdogs with more than a ballpark vendor carries.
I was at one point scared. My mom, young at heart went wandering around the store, likely for some vegetables. I got to the point of excess. I reached for the cell phone to call her and find exactly where she was. I found her moments later between the ravioli and taquito chests.
Grocery shopping is a fulfilling time for young people. I remember my grandma asked me at Easter about living on my own. "What are you going to do for food?" I replied "well, I probably will go hunting- like everyone else." She chuckled, and then promptly removed my smart ass from the will.
I like knowing that I have food in the freezer. My belly will be full for a month now. The advantage of Costco is greatly noted as it was paired with one of the biggest downfalls to city life. No garaunteed parking space. Nothing like hauling random boxes of items that don't even match a block and half.
Where are the homeless when you need them?
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Life at It's Finest
The AM Grand Prix has been in full effect now for about a week. I was going onto the Kennedy and Mona the Silver Bullet has reached a new top speed. 91 mile per hour. The car is awesome by many engineering standards, the only one I know is that it doesn't shake when I top out at 91.
The only way my 03 Malibu can get cooler is if I save up to make it a convertible. Kind of a responsibility meets urban ignorance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
So bracket talk quickly. I am that guy. I had 2 brackets both with U of I v. UNC. Each one with the other winning. Genius. Once again those Chinese people are right, this is the year of the Mike (or Rooster)
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Last night I stayed up watching tv. Not good tv, something my dad always talks about. Channel 11. Why? There was a documentary on the hotdog stands across our fine nation.
Of course they went and had Chicago dogs near the end of the show. Even on the poor man's PBS, they go for ratings. FYI, no condiments on my hotdogs for me. Just MSG and fillers.
~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes I feel lost and like I am in a vicious cycle, then I realize that feeling is relative to the number of Law & Order shows I watch a week.
The only way my 03 Malibu can get cooler is if I save up to make it a convertible. Kind of a responsibility meets urban ignorance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
So bracket talk quickly. I am that guy. I had 2 brackets both with U of I v. UNC. Each one with the other winning. Genius. Once again those Chinese people are right, this is the year of the Mike (or Rooster)
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Last night I stayed up watching tv. Not good tv, something my dad always talks about. Channel 11. Why? There was a documentary on the hotdog stands across our fine nation.
Of course they went and had Chicago dogs near the end of the show. Even on the poor man's PBS, they go for ratings. FYI, no condiments on my hotdogs for me. Just MSG and fillers.
~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes I feel lost and like I am in a vicious cycle, then I realize that feeling is relative to the number of Law & Order shows I watch a week.
Friday, April 01, 2005
AM Grand Prix
...to come once I have time. Ok, I have time now I just wish it to be not 5:50pm on a Friday. I need to leave work. Peace. Oh, Tiffany- you might as well leave your contact info in a comment since I will have no other way. My readers will respect your privacy. (Dear readers: She's hot. Totally call her if you can.)
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Hey I can post from work
Lookie here people. I am still figuring out the cheapest internet cost for the apartment but I now know the blog is not blocked by corporate. Longstory short, a new reason to stay late or come in early. By the way, hi Tiffany. Let me know how you came across the blog. To everyone else a real blog is coming soon.
Coming tomorrow... The A.M. Grand Prix
Coming tomorrow... The A.M. Grand Prix
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Thanks Woodridge
Tonight is my last post while residing in the bustling apathy of Woodridge. I look forward to being apart of the on place that people give the broad name to and yet is understood. The city. There is something wonderful about the move. No one expects you to come to them for the next two months. There is so much effort in moving that we all understand the plight that comes to leaving where you just busted tail to get to.
I have way to much crap. I am about neck deep in nostalgia and fraternal glassware. The pain of exhaustion is something wonderful. I really would like to write more but I am beat.
Next posting will most likely be the first post from my own place. Salvation, Mr. Dufrane comes from within.
I have way to much crap. I am about neck deep in nostalgia and fraternal glassware. The pain of exhaustion is something wonderful. I really would like to write more but I am beat.
Next posting will most likely be the first post from my own place. Salvation, Mr. Dufrane comes from within.
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Move Over Betty
Holy cow do I have a lot of crap. The whole moving would be much quicker if I had alzheimers. I think the worst part of it all is awakening the dust demons. Photo albums always seem to get another life when the move comes. There are a lot of people that I have not been in touch with, whether intentional or not- I am still managing.
By this time next week I will be in the new digs and it should be something short of wonderful. Nothing like taking a day from work to move on Friday and Saturday and then rest for like five hours of sleep only to have to return to the same house I just moved from for Easter brunch.
I don't mind the brunch, I love it. On a purely selfish level I would like to meet the week after I movet. What can you do? How about if you go to church less than ten times a year you can't celebrate the holidays. I believe in God, I believe in the sacraments, but I also believe God wants the relationship to be more than the twice a year charade of faith.
I think most people celebrate the holidays because they fear the surfacing of their own religious apathy. When I go to the brunches, dinners- at like 3 in the afternoon (that's a late lunch but I digress)the only time we discuss the holiday is when we say "happy Easter." The rest of the day is about the prospective summer plans, and the best of all - the ol' family grudges. Now that's not how the whole day is but those are the highlights.
~~~~~~~~~
I went to practice softball on Saturday and well that was fun. Cold but fun. Initially, my diving was at mid-season futility, but then I committed to the task moreover and dove, snagged the ball, summersaulted, and popped up to through the ball back in. My batting was a whole other story. It's spring training for a reason folks.
~~~~~~~~~~
My friend got into the Phd program and called me at work about it. I almost got fired. Upon telling me that he got in I almost slipped and said "dude, that's fucking tits!" Fortunately I had some tact left over from when I chose not to use it when talking to my boss.
~~~~~~~~~~~
So I had two shows this weekend that were not the stellar shows you all pay boku bucks for. However, I did have some shining moments which only keeps me focused on the task at hand and reluctant to get into a monogomous relationship.
By this time next week I will be in the new digs and it should be something short of wonderful. Nothing like taking a day from work to move on Friday and Saturday and then rest for like five hours of sleep only to have to return to the same house I just moved from for Easter brunch.
I don't mind the brunch, I love it. On a purely selfish level I would like to meet the week after I movet. What can you do? How about if you go to church less than ten times a year you can't celebrate the holidays. I believe in God, I believe in the sacraments, but I also believe God wants the relationship to be more than the twice a year charade of faith.
I think most people celebrate the holidays because they fear the surfacing of their own religious apathy. When I go to the brunches, dinners- at like 3 in the afternoon (that's a late lunch but I digress)the only time we discuss the holiday is when we say "happy Easter." The rest of the day is about the prospective summer plans, and the best of all - the ol' family grudges. Now that's not how the whole day is but those are the highlights.
~~~~~~~~~
I went to practice softball on Saturday and well that was fun. Cold but fun. Initially, my diving was at mid-season futility, but then I committed to the task moreover and dove, snagged the ball, summersaulted, and popped up to through the ball back in. My batting was a whole other story. It's spring training for a reason folks.
~~~~~~~~~~
My friend got into the Phd program and called me at work about it. I almost got fired. Upon telling me that he got in I almost slipped and said "dude, that's fucking tits!" Fortunately I had some tact left over from when I chose not to use it when talking to my boss.
~~~~~~~~~~~
So I had two shows this weekend that were not the stellar shows you all pay boku bucks for. However, I did have some shining moments which only keeps me focused on the task at hand and reluctant to get into a monogomous relationship.
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Blackout 2
(old man and two kids sitting around table)
kid 1: Wow Grandpa that's a cool story.
Grandpa: Well it's just one of many-
kid 2: Is that how you hurt your knee?
Grandpa: No, I'm fat.
(blackout)
kid 1: Wow Grandpa that's a cool story.
Grandpa: Well it's just one of many-
kid 2: Is that how you hurt your knee?
Grandpa: No, I'm fat.
(blackout)
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Blackout 1
(man 1 on phone)
Man 1: ...yeah I know that will never happen.
(enter Man 2)
Man 2: what's going on?
Man 1: ...are you kidding? That's going to ruin everything!
Man 2: what? what is it?
Man 1: ...hold on. Hey, why are you all up in my business, grandpa?
Man 2: I'm a part of your life too.
Man 1: Well, why don't you act like the silent partner and shut the fuck up! - So, you were saying?
BLACKOUT
Man 1: ...yeah I know that will never happen.
(enter Man 2)
Man 2: what's going on?
Man 1: ...are you kidding? That's going to ruin everything!
Man 2: what? what is it?
Man 1: ...hold on. Hey, why are you all up in my business, grandpa?
Man 2: I'm a part of your life too.
Man 1: Well, why don't you act like the silent partner and shut the fuck up! - So, you were saying?
BLACKOUT
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
The Numbers Game
Somewhere somebody is counting on the trivial to make it all worth while. The life of staticians is one that I simply don't follow. They have the uncanny sense of insight. In a way they kind of are like welcomed psychics. How does somebody know that they should be recognizing the number of attempts one makes while there is a Kentucky blue grass beneath them?
My own conspiracy theory is that whenever the commentator to an event says "has _ consecutive conversions" I know there is a miss coming. For that I believe the game is fixed. There is a line of necessity for numbers. I see no sense in telling me stats that are not in the boxscore. When will I care how many times a player shoots threes after coming off whooping cough? Never.
We have run out of things to talk about because the true stats are tainted so now we look to the gym class stats that make heros look like gods and scrubs look like heros. The inflation of success is an issue all on its own. We have become so set on surpassing the past that we simply look for the quickest way to piss on the image of persaverance.
Sure there are some pure numbers being made right now. I honestly have eaten pizza for six straight days. The longest I have gone is thirteen. So this could happen but like a hitting streak let's not let the media taint my efforts with questions of scandals like an eating disorder or high cholesterol.
College was wonderful since we would go for either consecutive days, hours, or minutes of drinking and that judged our level of clout on campus* (*all clout was contigent upon class attendance and gpa).
Somewhere out there a numbers fiend is keeping tally of their office job. No one cares, but once there is the happy hour the statician reveals their power. The brute control over numbers and their necessity to link life to a random stat that will 97% of the time do one thing, kill the conversation. I wish there were some way to show appreciation to the statician for all their hard work. I guess I will just have to work on my blank stare and "Oh Really?!:
My own conspiracy theory is that whenever the commentator to an event says "has _ consecutive conversions" I know there is a miss coming. For that I believe the game is fixed. There is a line of necessity for numbers. I see no sense in telling me stats that are not in the boxscore. When will I care how many times a player shoots threes after coming off whooping cough? Never.
We have run out of things to talk about because the true stats are tainted so now we look to the gym class stats that make heros look like gods and scrubs look like heros. The inflation of success is an issue all on its own. We have become so set on surpassing the past that we simply look for the quickest way to piss on the image of persaverance.
Sure there are some pure numbers being made right now. I honestly have eaten pizza for six straight days. The longest I have gone is thirteen. So this could happen but like a hitting streak let's not let the media taint my efforts with questions of scandals like an eating disorder or high cholesterol.
College was wonderful since we would go for either consecutive days, hours, or minutes of drinking and that judged our level of clout on campus* (*all clout was contigent upon class attendance and gpa).
Somewhere out there a numbers fiend is keeping tally of their office job. No one cares, but once there is the happy hour the statician reveals their power. The brute control over numbers and their necessity to link life to a random stat that will 97% of the time do one thing, kill the conversation. I wish there were some way to show appreciation to the statician for all their hard work. I guess I will just have to work on my blank stare and "Oh Really?!:
Monday, March 14, 2005
Pre-Paid Pain
I got my direct deposit notice today. Swell. Not so much they switched something. I made less money while working the same hours. Then with my Columbo capabilities, I noticed it was the benefits. My pre-tax deductions set in. Just when I thought life had some form of compassion.
Damn near $200 off my check. That's almost another eight weeks at second city. Lost, or until I get hit by a bus, or retire to Milwaukee- not everyone can afford the Hamptons. I told my mom of the burden and she tried to calm me down with, "it's only once a month." I then reminded her that I only get two checks a month.
Are we almost at the age where celebrations are more resisted than accepted. There are way too many people being happy and throwing parties. See if you don't throw parties- not all like that deal, then you get caught giving 90% of the time. Nothing wrong with it as long as you get more than two checks a month.
I walked past a Dunkin Donuts in the city that is closed per the request of the Mayor's Dumpster Patrol. Two things worry me. One, for Mayor Daley to acknowledge corruption before it goes page 1, that's amazing. Two, to what degree of flunkie is a dumpster patrol person? I now know who is below the crossing guard.
Today I used whipped wax instead of hair gel. Although my hair remained manageable and shiny, it did have a wax coating that smeared onto my forehead. My mom mentioned that it has a minor scent that I wouldn't notice. True, the scent of women's hair product is minor after the first four hours of predominate feminity scents coming from my scalp.
I went to the gym to ruun and got all the way to the locker room of crazy old naked men only to realize I had forgotten my white socks. If I ran in black argyles and then walked around for fifteen minutes naked in the locker room, I would unofficially qualify for social security.
Damn near $200 off my check. That's almost another eight weeks at second city. Lost, or until I get hit by a bus, or retire to Milwaukee- not everyone can afford the Hamptons. I told my mom of the burden and she tried to calm me down with, "it's only once a month." I then reminded her that I only get two checks a month.
Are we almost at the age where celebrations are more resisted than accepted. There are way too many people being happy and throwing parties. See if you don't throw parties- not all like that deal, then you get caught giving 90% of the time. Nothing wrong with it as long as you get more than two checks a month.
I walked past a Dunkin Donuts in the city that is closed per the request of the Mayor's Dumpster Patrol. Two things worry me. One, for Mayor Daley to acknowledge corruption before it goes page 1, that's amazing. Two, to what degree of flunkie is a dumpster patrol person? I now know who is below the crossing guard.
Today I used whipped wax instead of hair gel. Although my hair remained manageable and shiny, it did have a wax coating that smeared onto my forehead. My mom mentioned that it has a minor scent that I wouldn't notice. True, the scent of women's hair product is minor after the first four hours of predominate feminity scents coming from my scalp.
I went to the gym to ruun and got all the way to the locker room of crazy old naked men only to realize I had forgotten my white socks. If I ran in black argyles and then walked around for fifteen minutes naked in the locker room, I would unofficially qualify for social security.
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Toys in the Attic
Coming to an open mic near you...the revised material from my college showcase. I don't know why I sat on it for so long but, what better time than now.
Friday, March 11, 2005
GUITAR!!!
There are certain thresholds that people cross that simply ruin their credibility. I was listening to the radio and there was actually an Aerosmith song that at one point Steven says..."GUITAR!!!" and then the GUITAR wails out. Thank you Steven Tyler for making me realize that behind monumental success there stands a boy, a very akward one with beer bought friends.
The whole concept of announcing something that is already there is crazy. How is this even cool to the band? No one goes rocking out and screams ..."KEYBOARD!!" If 3/4 of the band is comfortable with the audience recognizing the instrument what makes the guitar so freaking special? Maybe if it were used as much as the triangle I could see the necessity in the announcement.
Playing the guitar is something most people try. These are the people trying to rehab their lonely nights into busy ones. I think it woud be a sight to meet the one guitar playing virgin. It's understood. A guitar equals sex. No one argues, no one asks questions. Once that guitar is left out for someone to see the foreplay has begun.
Why? Maybe it's the multi-tasking capabilities with having both hands moving and grooving together. Maybe it's that for 3.5 minutes someone is not directly focusing on anyone in particular. Attention is power. When we take it or give it people notice. Some of them even derobe.
When women take their clothes off at a concert what are they expecting to happen? First of all, if I am paying x ammount of dollars, I want the show to be on stage. If some box is taking her top off and it affects the band, just imagine the repercussions that will insue once they realize how scuzzy she really is.
Is flashing really the ultimate sign of approval. Are the nipples that high on the scale of bodily justification. The nips must be at least the polar opposite of the middle finger. No one shows their chest unless life is euphoric. At the same time, you really can tell what someone has been up to when they lift that shirt. Either way we all look to see.
The whole concept of announcing something that is already there is crazy. How is this even cool to the band? No one goes rocking out and screams ..."KEYBOARD!!" If 3/4 of the band is comfortable with the audience recognizing the instrument what makes the guitar so freaking special? Maybe if it were used as much as the triangle I could see the necessity in the announcement.
Playing the guitar is something most people try. These are the people trying to rehab their lonely nights into busy ones. I think it woud be a sight to meet the one guitar playing virgin. It's understood. A guitar equals sex. No one argues, no one asks questions. Once that guitar is left out for someone to see the foreplay has begun.
Why? Maybe it's the multi-tasking capabilities with having both hands moving and grooving together. Maybe it's that for 3.5 minutes someone is not directly focusing on anyone in particular. Attention is power. When we take it or give it people notice. Some of them even derobe.
When women take their clothes off at a concert what are they expecting to happen? First of all, if I am paying x ammount of dollars, I want the show to be on stage. If some box is taking her top off and it affects the band, just imagine the repercussions that will insue once they realize how scuzzy she really is.
Is flashing really the ultimate sign of approval. Are the nipples that high on the scale of bodily justification. The nips must be at least the polar opposite of the middle finger. No one shows their chest unless life is euphoric. At the same time, you really can tell what someone has been up to when they lift that shirt. Either way we all look to see.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
A New Lease on Life
It's over. The apartment search has concluded and yes people it is possible to find a one bedroom that is nice, affordable, and not in a government housing project. I was growing horribly tired of the crapholes I was visiting. Many fit the shoebox size comparison, and a few were more like the shoebox the dead hamster was put in.
I almost went studio but didn't because I would never leave my bed. It would be this catch all for activity that should not be had in a bed. The day I no longer dine in my bed I will finally reach that potential my teachers spoke of.
Never will I trust the words of the newspaper. When reading a classified without a photo I started to give the benefit of the doubt to the owners. People who don't use a photo are frankly cheaper than ten cent Ramen they eat on Thanksgiving. The concept behind the garden apartment is a strange one. The garden is an ideal segue between mom's basement and an actual apartment. Personally, my decision came from realizing I have more head room in my Malibu.
Features are what get us to sign, right? Some of the less fortunate places were throwing anything but decency at me. My favorite line a realitor said was "it will look much better before you move in, so just keep that in mind." One of my concerns is that it is near an L stop. When asked about the nearest locale, the woman said "there is one really close to here. All you have to do is walk about two blocks east, grab a cab or the bus and take it a mile to Division." Everyone has their own definition of close I guess.
There was one place that was an old hotel. It was pretty sweet but at the same time the mystique of dirty politicians bootleg brandy is more than stale for my liking. The owner was walking around with some death scented stogie and he walked with the swager of one that knows the shit smell is coming from their own shoe. His kitchen rivaled the easy bake oven, the sink looked like an Alabama lawn ornament. In the bathroom, the color scheme was asylum white with grout black. The toilet was something out of the Alcatraz section of Pottery Barn. To top it off the place came with the Murphy's bed. You know the one that comes out of the wall. I sure think it was called a herpes bed with the general apperance of a spotted uncooked processed grey government meat.
I like my new place because it is well, in the city, near the L, and most of all the gas station will actually allow you to enter the building to pay for gas- I think. Incase you're looking to move here's my guide to staying out of the ghetto.
1. If there are more Currency Exchanges than Starbucks in a mile - no go
2. If you have to pay for gas by sliding the money in the drawer as the 1st generation employee shudders in fear - no go
3. If the nicest car on the block doesn't have THAT much rust - no go.
Happy Hunting.
I almost went studio but didn't because I would never leave my bed. It would be this catch all for activity that should not be had in a bed. The day I no longer dine in my bed I will finally reach that potential my teachers spoke of.
Never will I trust the words of the newspaper. When reading a classified without a photo I started to give the benefit of the doubt to the owners. People who don't use a photo are frankly cheaper than ten cent Ramen they eat on Thanksgiving. The concept behind the garden apartment is a strange one. The garden is an ideal segue between mom's basement and an actual apartment. Personally, my decision came from realizing I have more head room in my Malibu.
Features are what get us to sign, right? Some of the less fortunate places were throwing anything but decency at me. My favorite line a realitor said was "it will look much better before you move in, so just keep that in mind." One of my concerns is that it is near an L stop. When asked about the nearest locale, the woman said "there is one really close to here. All you have to do is walk about two blocks east, grab a cab or the bus and take it a mile to Division." Everyone has their own definition of close I guess.
There was one place that was an old hotel. It was pretty sweet but at the same time the mystique of dirty politicians bootleg brandy is more than stale for my liking. The owner was walking around with some death scented stogie and he walked with the swager of one that knows the shit smell is coming from their own shoe. His kitchen rivaled the easy bake oven, the sink looked like an Alabama lawn ornament. In the bathroom, the color scheme was asylum white with grout black. The toilet was something out of the Alcatraz section of Pottery Barn. To top it off the place came with the Murphy's bed. You know the one that comes out of the wall. I sure think it was called a herpes bed with the general apperance of a spotted uncooked processed grey government meat.
I like my new place because it is well, in the city, near the L, and most of all the gas station will actually allow you to enter the building to pay for gas- I think. Incase you're looking to move here's my guide to staying out of the ghetto.
1. If there are more Currency Exchanges than Starbucks in a mile - no go
2. If you have to pay for gas by sliding the money in the drawer as the 1st generation employee shudders in fear - no go
3. If the nicest car on the block doesn't have THAT much rust - no go.
Happy Hunting.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
News Flash
Ok first the good news. This past Saturday the two man debut of The Inseam Asylum went well. There was 16 people there to see us alone plus the other guests. Nice job on the byob policy.
Now the even better news. I will be performing stand up at Donny's Sky Box @ Second City next Sunday at 6pm. Then on the 20th The Inseam Asylum will be performing at Donny's Sky Box @ Second City. $5 at the door. Alcohol served too. This is big so hopefully you can make it. The theater is on the 3rd floor of Piper's Alley.
~~~~~~~~~
I think I understand why the european culture refrains from moving out until marriage. The search for an apartment is as fun as trying to determine the sexual history of an one night stand. You can take it at face value but it's in your best interest to listen to your gut.
Many people compare a small apartment to that of a shoebox. Well, I recently have seen the one that I put my dead hamster in when I was ten. Never can you have the chance to control unless you build it up yourself. If there are old folks homes why can't we have the youth movement centers? I just wish that I could walk to a bar, the L, and get to a highway with relative ease and not have to worry about people that have never lived in Chicago telling me where the bad people live. Which for anyone outside of suburbia bad people commonly are known as minorities.
If I were to ever fall for one minority which I could see only because of sheer posibility, it would be a wonderful life with a soundrack of whispers. Why do I even discuss this matter? There is now a bounty that I will marry in the next 5 years. SImply because my brother and sister married 5 years apart. Mathematics aside, I know that I have an eight week policy that I am still staying good on.
~~~~~~
I ate lunch at Denny's and now have a desire to file for government assistance. Typically a meal out makes you feel special and then you return to the obscure with blind hope renewed. I feel like I should be either on my death bed or on my way to an early morning church service.
I wonder what is the typical age most people become more religious? Is it once they retire? That whole concept of retiring has completely inflated the life expectancy rate. Centuries ago, people dying in their thirties was normal, but then once some nitwit wanted a pension all America wanted to keep up with the Joneses. Now we have pills that simply help us take up prime real estate on the highway and beach for people who could actually maneuver around it. I am not planning on busting my tail down the court of life only to pass the ball to someone else. Selfish, maybe, but until I hear the 401k transfers over then I will buy the craze of conservation.
Now the even better news. I will be performing stand up at Donny's Sky Box @ Second City next Sunday at 6pm. Then on the 20th The Inseam Asylum will be performing at Donny's Sky Box @ Second City. $5 at the door. Alcohol served too. This is big so hopefully you can make it. The theater is on the 3rd floor of Piper's Alley.
~~~~~~~~~
I think I understand why the european culture refrains from moving out until marriage. The search for an apartment is as fun as trying to determine the sexual history of an one night stand. You can take it at face value but it's in your best interest to listen to your gut.
Many people compare a small apartment to that of a shoebox. Well, I recently have seen the one that I put my dead hamster in when I was ten. Never can you have the chance to control unless you build it up yourself. If there are old folks homes why can't we have the youth movement centers? I just wish that I could walk to a bar, the L, and get to a highway with relative ease and not have to worry about people that have never lived in Chicago telling me where the bad people live. Which for anyone outside of suburbia bad people commonly are known as minorities.
If I were to ever fall for one minority which I could see only because of sheer posibility, it would be a wonderful life with a soundrack of whispers. Why do I even discuss this matter? There is now a bounty that I will marry in the next 5 years. SImply because my brother and sister married 5 years apart. Mathematics aside, I know that I have an eight week policy that I am still staying good on.
~~~~~~
I ate lunch at Denny's and now have a desire to file for government assistance. Typically a meal out makes you feel special and then you return to the obscure with blind hope renewed. I feel like I should be either on my death bed or on my way to an early morning church service.
I wonder what is the typical age most people become more religious? Is it once they retire? That whole concept of retiring has completely inflated the life expectancy rate. Centuries ago, people dying in their thirties was normal, but then once some nitwit wanted a pension all America wanted to keep up with the Joneses. Now we have pills that simply help us take up prime real estate on the highway and beach for people who could actually maneuver around it. I am not planning on busting my tail down the court of life only to pass the ball to someone else. Selfish, maybe, but until I hear the 401k transfers over then I will buy the craze of conservation.
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