I was trash talking about playing my friend at work in racketball, a sport that I don't even know the rules. "I'll crush you." I said. He then replies, in the office mind you, "yeah, well I have the tendancy to hit people in the back of the head with the balls so watch out."
I'm still laughing.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Monday, January 30, 2006
In Da Club
So I returned to the health club for what I call resisting nature. Can't we all just get fat? I can't. Whenever my stomach hits the belt buckle and it leaves an indentation that rivals a cattle branding I realize it's time to slow down and only eat two donuts when someone buys them for work.
I arrived at a time when the pool was not open. So I went to the place of fitness masturbation, cardio-land. That crap doesn't do anything but allow you to run up the stairs to get another bowl of ice cream. Oh, also make you walk like an astronaut for 20 minutes after you get off.
The only spot I found was a grimy elliptical that was placed so well in between two tv's that I could only stare at the wall. Such a metaphor for life. Not to forget that fact I was in a mini purgatory for ommitting fitness from my life. Now I maybe in salvageable shape but it's scary. I can feel the looming presence of man boobs if I don't get my act together.
When I went to swim I finally went and made some strides in my workout. There is a poor time for lap swimming. Whenever there is open swim next to it. Not only do I feel like a Scooby Doo villian due to those meddling kids but I began to think about how something that was a symbol of pure bliss is now a gauntlet of exercise.
All we do in those damn clubs is just for the flicker of a chance to show how underestimated we were. Don't worry ladies you can pretend you have the matching personality that will make our jaws drop while we work on wowing you with something we can lift- with the help of a friend.
I arrived at a time when the pool was not open. So I went to the place of fitness masturbation, cardio-land. That crap doesn't do anything but allow you to run up the stairs to get another bowl of ice cream. Oh, also make you walk like an astronaut for 20 minutes after you get off.
The only spot I found was a grimy elliptical that was placed so well in between two tv's that I could only stare at the wall. Such a metaphor for life. Not to forget that fact I was in a mini purgatory for ommitting fitness from my life. Now I maybe in salvageable shape but it's scary. I can feel the looming presence of man boobs if I don't get my act together.
When I went to swim I finally went and made some strides in my workout. There is a poor time for lap swimming. Whenever there is open swim next to it. Not only do I feel like a Scooby Doo villian due to those meddling kids but I began to think about how something that was a symbol of pure bliss is now a gauntlet of exercise.
All we do in those damn clubs is just for the flicker of a chance to show how underestimated we were. Don't worry ladies you can pretend you have the matching personality that will make our jaws drop while we work on wowing you with something we can lift- with the help of a friend.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Fate
I believe in fate. That's why I read my horroscope the day after.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): It's totally normal to have feelings of escapism today. I can barely sit still to write this column. Take it easy, but try to indulge your need to explore the world more. Do something different. Go someplace you've never been to before. Talk to the animals.
The stars know all, see all, and tell all with pinpoint generalizations.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): It's totally normal to have feelings of escapism today. I can barely sit still to write this column. Take it easy, but try to indulge your need to explore the world more. Do something different. Go someplace you've never been to before. Talk to the animals.
The stars know all, see all, and tell all with pinpoint generalizations.
Pistol Toting Bachelorettes
Now that I have your attention, let me inform you that title is true. Last night I went out for a fine time at Chili's (that's how I turn it down a notch when I so am on fire). After that my friend and I hit the bar scene. Mistake one, we got there way too early. Mistake two, we spoke to a bachelorette party.
Why? It was a bizzarro world. For the first time in my life the ratio favored men at this oft-sausage hut. I had choices. CHOICES. Choices are dangerous. There were so many of them that I was able to literally know that abc plan route before we walked over there.
Within first minutes B was all about being friendly. Cool right? You bet mainly since I had my friend run wing man all night. So once I established the great relationship with B I asked her about A. Apparently, A was an immigrant and I shouted "no f---ing is she an immigrant!" Oh that was true. A looked like the middle child from 7th Heaven without the annoying need to talk so much. When I got to say hi to A she was leaving. She gave me her name and I thought she was clearing her throat. Broken English is cute/hot, but teaching the damn language is too much effort for bar love.
So back to B. Locked down. Full connection and she was cool, older but still digging me until he next drink was taken care of. Suddenly B was out of consideration because she got soaked up in the games of the night. Enter C. Yikes. The whole time metaphors went rampant. Eating vegetables I hate but know are good for me, batting cage practice, asking for more dental work. All of those options were how talking to her became.
The irony of these miscue's of romance are that we claim they are shallow and lack character to compel us to stay. Then we represent exactly that. She was a nice girl, just a complete mismatch again.
We were invited to the post bar party. That was so far away I began to thing an oasis would appear on the road. When we arrived at the house of what I thought was the house of one of the bride's friends I realized it was the fiance's house. Wonderful. He, mind you dressed in a wife beater, had a neo-Nazi shaved head with tattoos all over him. His friend was sporting his tattoos on the back of his neck, surely to commemorate his parole. Somehow we were welcomed in, that's right because it was a lion's den.
The next ten minutes I became acquainted with an albino pitbull. Now pitbulls are fierce, an albino is worse it feels it needs to prove its toughness. So we watched them (the girls too) wrestle the dog. Apparently this dog enjoyed being punched in the face. Something I think is a miscommunication between pet and owner. So much drama lead to a smoke break for many.
After walking back in from watching people smoke I was baptizes into the pits of hell. The bride was waving a .45 caliber pistol around while sitting at the kitchen counter. I would love to recall what she was hollering about but I was too concerned for their floor needing to be mopped. "It's not loaded." They claimed. Wow, that's good because I almost thought you were a freaking nut job. Actually, you are. Now, the party never hit the highs it could have since the fiance mentioned over and over that he didn't even have his shotgun with him at the house. Didn't he know that the guests would be coming over and would love to see the mental malitia's inventory. Could it still be in the evidence locker? Maybe.
It was at that point I was in Lord of the Flies mode, ready to let all the idiots kill themselves. All of the bachelorette parties I have seen at the bars have been memorable. This one was a dramatic interpretation to Pulp Fiction.
Bring in the Gimp.
Why? It was a bizzarro world. For the first time in my life the ratio favored men at this oft-sausage hut. I had choices. CHOICES. Choices are dangerous. There were so many of them that I was able to literally know that abc plan route before we walked over there.
Within first minutes B was all about being friendly. Cool right? You bet mainly since I had my friend run wing man all night. So once I established the great relationship with B I asked her about A. Apparently, A was an immigrant and I shouted "no f---ing is she an immigrant!" Oh that was true. A looked like the middle child from 7th Heaven without the annoying need to talk so much. When I got to say hi to A she was leaving. She gave me her name and I thought she was clearing her throat. Broken English is cute/hot, but teaching the damn language is too much effort for bar love.
So back to B. Locked down. Full connection and she was cool, older but still digging me until he next drink was taken care of. Suddenly B was out of consideration because she got soaked up in the games of the night. Enter C. Yikes. The whole time metaphors went rampant. Eating vegetables I hate but know are good for me, batting cage practice, asking for more dental work. All of those options were how talking to her became.
The irony of these miscue's of romance are that we claim they are shallow and lack character to compel us to stay. Then we represent exactly that. She was a nice girl, just a complete mismatch again.
We were invited to the post bar party. That was so far away I began to thing an oasis would appear on the road. When we arrived at the house of what I thought was the house of one of the bride's friends I realized it was the fiance's house. Wonderful. He, mind you dressed in a wife beater, had a neo-Nazi shaved head with tattoos all over him. His friend was sporting his tattoos on the back of his neck, surely to commemorate his parole. Somehow we were welcomed in, that's right because it was a lion's den.
The next ten minutes I became acquainted with an albino pitbull. Now pitbulls are fierce, an albino is worse it feels it needs to prove its toughness. So we watched them (the girls too) wrestle the dog. Apparently this dog enjoyed being punched in the face. Something I think is a miscommunication between pet and owner. So much drama lead to a smoke break for many.
After walking back in from watching people smoke I was baptizes into the pits of hell. The bride was waving a .45 caliber pistol around while sitting at the kitchen counter. I would love to recall what she was hollering about but I was too concerned for their floor needing to be mopped. "It's not loaded." They claimed. Wow, that's good because I almost thought you were a freaking nut job. Actually, you are. Now, the party never hit the highs it could have since the fiance mentioned over and over that he didn't even have his shotgun with him at the house. Didn't he know that the guests would be coming over and would love to see the mental malitia's inventory. Could it still be in the evidence locker? Maybe.
It was at that point I was in Lord of the Flies mode, ready to let all the idiots kill themselves. All of the bachelorette parties I have seen at the bars have been memorable. This one was a dramatic interpretation to Pulp Fiction.
Bring in the Gimp.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Extra Hand
If you would like to be given the most negative unsolicited advice, tell your inner circle that you are thinking of pursuing that person romantically or buying a car.
Fool proof foolry.
Fool proof foolry.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Hype Sells
I saw King Kong about a week ago and I must say it was the most beautiful waste of my time in years. It's the new Titanic. The film takes about one hour to find the dumb monkey. Then was Peter decides to do is take twenty minutes from Jurassic Park and splice it in so that we can see, man, ape, and dinosaurs. Great job.
Besides every cliff looking like a copy from the trilogy of the Fellowship of the Ring, Peter Jackson's version just let the sour notes linger too long. Cliche little guy needs moral values spelled out by token black man. All principle characters avoid danger while others are picked off like bugs, and so on.
My big gripe of this all is Adrian Brody. Whoever thought manic depressive jumbo nosed drama man queens were the next big thing should turn off Bravo and let actors with testicles play the men. Now, I did like how poorly he was treated in the movie. However, I am still waiting for some bombshell to find my "inner beauty" and look past the protruding ears and freckles. It appeared as though his nose was getting bigger in each scene.
My question is whose nose is more gangly, awkward, or simply bigger? Adrian Brody or Ashlee Simpson? Imagine if they procreated. The kid would have a schnoz the size of a door knob. I really shouldn't judge since afterall, my nostrils are contoured up making me look like I can score blow quicker than Robert Downey Jr.
Robert Downey Jr, now there's an actor. America's alley cat, but hell of an actor.
Besides every cliff looking like a copy from the trilogy of the Fellowship of the Ring, Peter Jackson's version just let the sour notes linger too long. Cliche little guy needs moral values spelled out by token black man. All principle characters avoid danger while others are picked off like bugs, and so on.
My big gripe of this all is Adrian Brody. Whoever thought manic depressive jumbo nosed drama man queens were the next big thing should turn off Bravo and let actors with testicles play the men. Now, I did like how poorly he was treated in the movie. However, I am still waiting for some bombshell to find my "inner beauty" and look past the protruding ears and freckles. It appeared as though his nose was getting bigger in each scene.
My question is whose nose is more gangly, awkward, or simply bigger? Adrian Brody or Ashlee Simpson? Imagine if they procreated. The kid would have a schnoz the size of a door knob. I really shouldn't judge since afterall, my nostrils are contoured up making me look like I can score blow quicker than Robert Downey Jr.
Robert Downey Jr, now there's an actor. America's alley cat, but hell of an actor.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
The Case of Vengeful Sausage/Second Place Again
Friday night I enjoyed what I thought to be a polish sausage and order of cheese fries. I was mistaken. This working man's feast was a toxic voyage waiting to happen. I went to bed with aspirations of one of my favorite holidays pending. Suddenly I wake, doubting what symptoms I feel I move to the bathroom for precaution. Sure enough I vomitted. So began my experience of food poising.
I will spare you from the nitty gritty details of how sick I was. Take it from me, food posioning is as close to going into detox; in my opinion. As I lay on my bed a couple hours before the party shuttle (me) is to get a move on, I wonder what exactly I did to piss God off so much.
The calls from my friends came in, I explained that I would be a game time decision of questionable for this well planned event. What was surprising to me was that when I mentioned I thought it was food poisoning they all asked what I ate. I said a polish sausage. All of them, came back with an "ooh told you so" tone saying "a polish sausage will get you all the time." Since when was one encased meat biproduct more prone to bacterial infection than another? Word to the wise no more polish sausage.
We get to the hotel, sweet as hell- that's how I roll. My friends go out for a snack while I try to die in the room. Once time comes we head over to the bar for the party. Enter the frustration point of my life. I arranged for my friends to come to a place where for 5 hours we can drink all the micro beer or wine we want, eat as much pizza and hang out yet I can't stomach a thing.
To make matters worse, my friend went above and beyond to mention me to one of his girlfriend's single friends. She was there, beautiful, single, smart, likes drinking, personable, and I couldn't bear more than some basic small talk fearing that my body would break down from the food poisoning. I watched her kiss some other dude at midnight and was rendered helpless. It was kind of like when I went into surgery and the sedation made my body unresponsive to what my brain was thinking. Hopefully she didn't really like that guy. My only saving grace with her is that she invited me to a brunch (which I didn't attend for obvious reasons).
The evening was rather anti-climatic for a number of reasons. I was such a spectator to it all. Prior to this night I pondered the attire choices. I know that 90% of the men would be in striped shirts. I was correct. I was not. I almost was going to wear a shirt that said "why aren't you married yet?" That's what I saw last night. Gone are the days when you could look a girl in the eyes and see her looking for someone that can get her another drink and go have fun. Now the majority of the females have the look poised for husbands.
It was only a matter of time before the hunter becomes the hunted.
I will spare you from the nitty gritty details of how sick I was. Take it from me, food posioning is as close to going into detox; in my opinion. As I lay on my bed a couple hours before the party shuttle (me) is to get a move on, I wonder what exactly I did to piss God off so much.
The calls from my friends came in, I explained that I would be a game time decision of questionable for this well planned event. What was surprising to me was that when I mentioned I thought it was food poisoning they all asked what I ate. I said a polish sausage. All of them, came back with an "ooh told you so" tone saying "a polish sausage will get you all the time." Since when was one encased meat biproduct more prone to bacterial infection than another? Word to the wise no more polish sausage.
We get to the hotel, sweet as hell- that's how I roll. My friends go out for a snack while I try to die in the room. Once time comes we head over to the bar for the party. Enter the frustration point of my life. I arranged for my friends to come to a place where for 5 hours we can drink all the micro beer or wine we want, eat as much pizza and hang out yet I can't stomach a thing.
To make matters worse, my friend went above and beyond to mention me to one of his girlfriend's single friends. She was there, beautiful, single, smart, likes drinking, personable, and I couldn't bear more than some basic small talk fearing that my body would break down from the food poisoning. I watched her kiss some other dude at midnight and was rendered helpless. It was kind of like when I went into surgery and the sedation made my body unresponsive to what my brain was thinking. Hopefully she didn't really like that guy. My only saving grace with her is that she invited me to a brunch (which I didn't attend for obvious reasons).
The evening was rather anti-climatic for a number of reasons. I was such a spectator to it all. Prior to this night I pondered the attire choices. I know that 90% of the men would be in striped shirts. I was correct. I was not. I almost was going to wear a shirt that said "why aren't you married yet?" That's what I saw last night. Gone are the days when you could look a girl in the eyes and see her looking for someone that can get her another drink and go have fun. Now the majority of the females have the look poised for husbands.
It was only a matter of time before the hunter becomes the hunted.
Friday, December 30, 2005
A Christmas Story
Christmas is back in full effect. Due to the lives of my niece and nephew I am convinced my family single handedly tried to jump start the economy. There were presents stacked three fold. So what do I do? Give them savings bonds. I expect my thank you letter when they can afford one more college book in their freshman year.
I started to feel older finally. Younger people will do that. I do it to my older coworkers and love and so do younger people to me. Sort of a social middle finger to elders.
Dinner at my aunts was only awkward because I finally wasn't at the kid/people who don't know the intricaces of 401k plans table. The best part of the dinner was when my aunt snapped on my grandma and cranked in Readi Whip on her instant coffee because grandma didn't take too well to the flavor crystals of instant coffee. That was the best moment I have witnessed in years at Christmas.
I recommend the Foldgers Latte. Warms the heart and soul.
I started to feel older finally. Younger people will do that. I do it to my older coworkers and love and so do younger people to me. Sort of a social middle finger to elders.
Dinner at my aunts was only awkward because I finally wasn't at the kid/people who don't know the intricaces of 401k plans table. The best part of the dinner was when my aunt snapped on my grandma and cranked in Readi Whip on her instant coffee because grandma didn't take too well to the flavor crystals of instant coffee. That was the best moment I have witnessed in years at Christmas.
I recommend the Foldgers Latte. Warms the heart and soul.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Naked Women
I am convinced that Heather Graham is one of the most beautiful women that is actually more attractive clothed.
Hillary Duff sure looks like she easily could be Jenna Jameson's younger sister.
Powerful thoughts, I know.
Hillary Duff sure looks like she easily could be Jenna Jameson's younger sister.
Powerful thoughts, I know.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
What Concert?
Sorry all, I have been in what the authorities call a car accident. Then to top it off my network has been down for me to write the quality you enjoy reading.
So this past Friday I went to a concert with a couple friends and it was more than memorable. Names are still uncertain in the story as well. After a quick binge at a local bar we hit the venue in time for the headliner. Age showed on our part as we were willing to pay $3 for coat check.
Grabbing a couple more beers we panned the crowd to see what we had gotten into. There was a mix of boppers and clear chaperones. I thought the venue was one of the coolest places I had ever been to but there was a clear problem. We were in the back.
Seats were general admission and plenty of people had locked the place in front of us. Fortunately for us I am 6'5" and was plenty o'drunk. My mentality was a very brash and we deserve it vibe. It worked, since I wrapped it in quick courteousy. I told my friends we should be in the front. Before any discussion I said let's go and we were plowing through the crowd.
Having "a friend up front" is the best story that I thought would take breasts to work. Well, it worked sort of. I was in the clear no one questioned me. My one friend went second and caught a bit of grief. My other friend was third and he caught more elbows and shoving than grief. Some battered more than others we made it. I was five people back from the stage and loving it.
At one point I thought I was the concert. I figured I should be the nimrod to hoist a girl up on my sholders. Now this girl, not frail, nor fat, but she was more than I could bear. I squat down to have her on my shoulders (in a position that sober no one could rise from). As I try to rise, and not spill my beer I fall. Looking to her I rebut "perhaps I am too drunk to handle this."
There is more to this story but the parts I omitted are very much alive. Once caput I will disclose it. Until then, I have one of the best voicemails ever given.
The memories come when friends remind you for the first time.
So this past Friday I went to a concert with a couple friends and it was more than memorable. Names are still uncertain in the story as well. After a quick binge at a local bar we hit the venue in time for the headliner. Age showed on our part as we were willing to pay $3 for coat check.
Grabbing a couple more beers we panned the crowd to see what we had gotten into. There was a mix of boppers and clear chaperones. I thought the venue was one of the coolest places I had ever been to but there was a clear problem. We were in the back.
Seats were general admission and plenty of people had locked the place in front of us. Fortunately for us I am 6'5" and was plenty o'drunk. My mentality was a very brash and we deserve it vibe. It worked, since I wrapped it in quick courteousy. I told my friends we should be in the front. Before any discussion I said let's go and we were plowing through the crowd.
Having "a friend up front" is the best story that I thought would take breasts to work. Well, it worked sort of. I was in the clear no one questioned me. My one friend went second and caught a bit of grief. My other friend was third and he caught more elbows and shoving than grief. Some battered more than others we made it. I was five people back from the stage and loving it.
At one point I thought I was the concert. I figured I should be the nimrod to hoist a girl up on my sholders. Now this girl, not frail, nor fat, but she was more than I could bear. I squat down to have her on my shoulders (in a position that sober no one could rise from). As I try to rise, and not spill my beer I fall. Looking to her I rebut "perhaps I am too drunk to handle this."
There is more to this story but the parts I omitted are very much alive. Once caput I will disclose it. Until then, I have one of the best voicemails ever given.
The memories come when friends remind you for the first time.
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Stood Up and Loving Every Minute
Last night I was to meet up with the bar fly from two weeks ago after she hit a birthday party for a friend. Alas, she found other opportunities last night and flat out stood me up. Not a problem since I was leaning heavily on the plan of drinking with a friend of mine. However this will add to my reasons of why romance is a fluke to work in your favor. I did enjoy the lessons that she taught me in our brief faux half night stand.
1. I can pick up a girl in a bar, simply sit down talk so that she can't get a word in edgewise so that persistance and desperation summersault over eachother. Then if need be buy a drink for her.
2. The whole ettiquette of not making out in public only pertains to prudes, or people with something called restrain.
3. As easy as they enter, phone numbers can be erased in a cell phone.
Being stood up is great. I see it as a motivation for my next meeting of a woman. First, I will suspect her to be a shady, heartless person. Then I will realize that not all women are like that, and most of the women I base that on were probably on a three month long period. So again, that was my fault. Finally, when all seems to be working out and she stops talking about her family I will let her know of my romantic apprehension. Why? I was stood up recently. Sure that may be a red flag to a girl but most with a common sense of respect will side with the victim- me. Being stood up is the best pity card to play and really allows for us to talk about "what's really important."
Now, that being said I am not so sure any of it will work. See I have this aura to me when out in a bar. I send extra powerful vibes to women that say "I respect your desire for equality. So buy your own drink." I don't like to buy women drinks at bars. Homeless people will chat longer for half as much and at least with them you can already smell the disease they carry.
There are so many ways to find a woman attractive. I remember when I was with the aforementioned gal that night. Shortly after one of the pda's I stopped her passionately, looked her in the eyes and said "wait." She asked why and I looked at her feet. "I don't know if you're aware but the pointier a girl's shoes are the more high maintanence you are." She froze. "Thank God you are wearing round shoes." That is a theory I hold to be in route to being social law.
Fortunately for me I am coming into my own. I know that if I am going to a trendy bar or even a club it is because single women I am going with are wanting to go there and meet new guys. I am alright with the understanding that I am bar ugly. The odds that a girl leaves her place on the prowl for a guy that is pale and lanky with freckles too is absurd. That is why I am proclaiming myself to be house party hot. Give me a few beers, some three month old rap song and five minutes and I will have you somehow captivated. Chances are you are either engaged or dating but you still have that one girlfriend that needs to be dating before she is fully accepted into your circle.
Where is she? Over by the chips and salsa? Jackpot.
1. I can pick up a girl in a bar, simply sit down talk so that she can't get a word in edgewise so that persistance and desperation summersault over eachother. Then if need be buy a drink for her.
2. The whole ettiquette of not making out in public only pertains to prudes, or people with something called restrain.
3. As easy as they enter, phone numbers can be erased in a cell phone.
Being stood up is great. I see it as a motivation for my next meeting of a woman. First, I will suspect her to be a shady, heartless person. Then I will realize that not all women are like that, and most of the women I base that on were probably on a three month long period. So again, that was my fault. Finally, when all seems to be working out and she stops talking about her family I will let her know of my romantic apprehension. Why? I was stood up recently. Sure that may be a red flag to a girl but most with a common sense of respect will side with the victim- me. Being stood up is the best pity card to play and really allows for us to talk about "what's really important."
Now, that being said I am not so sure any of it will work. See I have this aura to me when out in a bar. I send extra powerful vibes to women that say "I respect your desire for equality. So buy your own drink." I don't like to buy women drinks at bars. Homeless people will chat longer for half as much and at least with them you can already smell the disease they carry.
There are so many ways to find a woman attractive. I remember when I was with the aforementioned gal that night. Shortly after one of the pda's I stopped her passionately, looked her in the eyes and said "wait." She asked why and I looked at her feet. "I don't know if you're aware but the pointier a girl's shoes are the more high maintanence you are." She froze. "Thank God you are wearing round shoes." That is a theory I hold to be in route to being social law.
Fortunately for me I am coming into my own. I know that if I am going to a trendy bar or even a club it is because single women I am going with are wanting to go there and meet new guys. I am alright with the understanding that I am bar ugly. The odds that a girl leaves her place on the prowl for a guy that is pale and lanky with freckles too is absurd. That is why I am proclaiming myself to be house party hot. Give me a few beers, some three month old rap song and five minutes and I will have you somehow captivated. Chances are you are either engaged or dating but you still have that one girlfriend that needs to be dating before she is fully accepted into your circle.
Where is she? Over by the chips and salsa? Jackpot.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Do You Try Too Hard? Exam 1
Look, it doesn't take a union worker to tell us the values of effort. Some folks are putting in overtime on matters that should not be more than a moments thought. They are special people, after all they are quick to scoff if you are not like them. Are you them? Don't worry if you are I very well may still talk to you. (Well, don't come running up telling me you are trying too hard. What am I supposed to do then? Let's avoid the awkward situation, ok?)
1. Do any of your winter hats have a bill? (follow up) Do you have more than one winter hat?
A. If you answered yes, please realize you look like a tool and many people hope you ski like Sonny Bono.
B. If you answered no, don't worry there's plenty of time to go wrong here.
2. Do you own a pair of UG boots and not live in the artic?
A. If you answered yes, for the love of God take them off you winter ho.
B. If you answered no, chances are your pretentious girl is making you buy her some for the holidays.
3. Do you plan on buying the new Madonna CD?
A. If you answered yes, please realize that a 50 year old putting out a club/dance album is a lame as someone buying it.
B. If you answered no, thank you.
4. Do you still recite Dave Chappel lines?
A. If you answered yes, keep it to your fraternity pledge weekends.
B. If you answered no, thank you for remembering Richard Pryor.
5. Do you debate the problems of the BCS system at bars?
A. If you answered yes, get a Jaeger bomb and clue in that only dorks that listen to AM radio care about that.
B. If you answered no, you were probably making fun of the person that said yes.
6. Do you wear long sleeved button down shirts that are striped when going out?
A. If you answered yes, you are every cookie cutter jack hole I see at the bar.
B. If you answered no, chances are you prefer to wear a hoodie; when going to your Magic games.
7. Do you try and bartend/suggest "new" drinks for people when they are out with you?
A. If you answered yes and are not a freshman in college. Let it go.
B. If you answered no that amazes me.
8. Do you go tanning during the winter?
A. If you answered yes and are not a 38 year old divorcee', take off your designer shades and realize how pale we all are.
B. If you answered no, I will see you with the other albinos at the beach in June.
9. Do you read books from Oprah's book club?
A. If you answered yes remember she isn't your friend. And you just made her way rich.
B. If you answered no stay strong you've made it this far.
10. Do you talk about your health club membership or diet more than you use it?
A. If you answered yes I appreciate your influx of initial initiative, for the first three days you were so on top of it.
B. If you answered no well chances are you and your spouse and 2.3 children are doing splendid. But can you really keep it up?
Results- With any of these questions if you answered yes realize you need to back off the social trends and spend time being the obscure person you're running from. Remember the cool kids weren't necessarily the cool kids. They just are the most vocal about how fragile their egos are.
1. Do any of your winter hats have a bill? (follow up) Do you have more than one winter hat?
A. If you answered yes, please realize you look like a tool and many people hope you ski like Sonny Bono.
B. If you answered no, don't worry there's plenty of time to go wrong here.
2. Do you own a pair of UG boots and not live in the artic?
A. If you answered yes, for the love of God take them off you winter ho.
B. If you answered no, chances are your pretentious girl is making you buy her some for the holidays.
3. Do you plan on buying the new Madonna CD?
A. If you answered yes, please realize that a 50 year old putting out a club/dance album is a lame as someone buying it.
B. If you answered no, thank you.
4. Do you still recite Dave Chappel lines?
A. If you answered yes, keep it to your fraternity pledge weekends.
B. If you answered no, thank you for remembering Richard Pryor.
5. Do you debate the problems of the BCS system at bars?
A. If you answered yes, get a Jaeger bomb and clue in that only dorks that listen to AM radio care about that.
B. If you answered no, you were probably making fun of the person that said yes.
6. Do you wear long sleeved button down shirts that are striped when going out?
A. If you answered yes, you are every cookie cutter jack hole I see at the bar.
B. If you answered no, chances are you prefer to wear a hoodie; when going to your Magic games.
7. Do you try and bartend/suggest "new" drinks for people when they are out with you?
A. If you answered yes and are not a freshman in college. Let it go.
B. If you answered no that amazes me.
8. Do you go tanning during the winter?
A. If you answered yes and are not a 38 year old divorcee', take off your designer shades and realize how pale we all are.
B. If you answered no, I will see you with the other albinos at the beach in June.
9. Do you read books from Oprah's book club?
A. If you answered yes remember she isn't your friend. And you just made her way rich.
B. If you answered no stay strong you've made it this far.
10. Do you talk about your health club membership or diet more than you use it?
A. If you answered yes I appreciate your influx of initial initiative, for the first three days you were so on top of it.
B. If you answered no well chances are you and your spouse and 2.3 children are doing splendid. But can you really keep it up?
Results- With any of these questions if you answered yes realize you need to back off the social trends and spend time being the obscure person you're running from. Remember the cool kids weren't necessarily the cool kids. They just are the most vocal about how fragile their egos are.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Thank You List '05
In the spirit of the holiday that was skipped over to add just a new level of insult to Native American history, I would like to give thanks to somethings and people that are very important to me.
1. Women who still wear pants without back pockets. Thank you, I know you plan on spending other people's money at least we have something to look at while we think about justifying your purchase.
2. Sprint for selling my current phone number to an Indian man. This makes my life so much easier.
3. Working tomorrow. I would end up playing video games until my bladder could not take it.
4. My bachelorhood. I approach the holiday season being one of few in the circle not having to plan for "their family."
5. The cold. This is my social filter that I love. No matter how skilled you are stillettos can't be worn in the winter.
6. MTV Real World Marathons- Now I can finally watch 7 people get drunk for 10 hours straight from the comfort of home.
7. YMCA- for taking my dues without even trying to give me a guilt trip and ask where have I been.
8. Starbucks and GAP commercials- it may just be this time of year but it's so refreshing to see minorities smile on tv.
9. Countdown Shows- someday I can only hope to be one of the inconsistantly funny comics to review the past year.
10. My harmonica teacher- it took a couple hundred dollars but it's nice to know that I am better than physical appearance allows people think.
1. Women who still wear pants without back pockets. Thank you, I know you plan on spending other people's money at least we have something to look at while we think about justifying your purchase.
2. Sprint for selling my current phone number to an Indian man. This makes my life so much easier.
3. Working tomorrow. I would end up playing video games until my bladder could not take it.
4. My bachelorhood. I approach the holiday season being one of few in the circle not having to plan for "their family."
5. The cold. This is my social filter that I love. No matter how skilled you are stillettos can't be worn in the winter.
6. MTV Real World Marathons- Now I can finally watch 7 people get drunk for 10 hours straight from the comfort of home.
7. YMCA- for taking my dues without even trying to give me a guilt trip and ask where have I been.
8. Starbucks and GAP commercials- it may just be this time of year but it's so refreshing to see minorities smile on tv.
9. Countdown Shows- someday I can only hope to be one of the inconsistantly funny comics to review the past year.
10. My harmonica teacher- it took a couple hundred dollars but it's nice to know that I am better than physical appearance allows people think.
Classics Fade Too
I went to the video store because Netflix doesn't give me the superiority complex above other people's movie knowledge or selection. There were a few so called classics that I rented. What made this movie mundane to me was the fact that I was told that I would laugh my ass off. Not true. No matter what the scenario is we will still put up defense mechanisms even if it is for something good. Why? No one likes to admit they can't find something good on their own.
This movie called Blazing Saddles. Relatively funny. There were some bright moments but I am beginning to realize Mel Brooks' humor is very generational and immature. Sure let's push limits I am all for that. I am not in the mood to watch someone who just became old enough to swear infront of their parents. This movie is contigent upon racism. Funny but I think that it needed stronger supporting elements. Maybe the other unsettling feeling I have is directly tied to Gene Wilder. Maybe.
I feel bad that I don't appreciate these classics the way older people do. Some point down the road some kid will not see the value of Swingers for example. Blazing Saddles simply half delivered. Older adults like it because they get to hear racist words and laugh with them like they did in the segregated cafeterias. Let's face it we don't need to put a movie in to laugh about racism. Shock humor is something that I think should be common place but as an accessory. After thirty minutes we are forced to tell ourselves- ok I get it. They're white and they're black. That's comedy.
My petition I guess is for us to find more intelligent race humor as we return from the silliness of the PC world. Same goes for sexism, try not to tell a woman the cliche of "back in the kitchen." That is so played people. Let's stop being our grandpa's holiday dinner table punchlines.
The elderly are drunk off experience and feel like all need to see them brag it out like a second semester freshman. "I remember when some group of (insert any nationality) came to our neighborhood..." I don't know how many times I have sat down to listen about how wrong other nationalities are according to the elderly. Then adults will defend them with "well they are old and are set in their ways." They are set in their ways because no one told their seniors to stop being so ignorant. I respect the elderly just not everything they say.
When I get old I look forward to having grey hair but I sure don't want the sagging, wrinkled flesh. Looking like I am wearing an oversized sweater of me. That looks gross no matter what your skin color.
This movie called Blazing Saddles. Relatively funny. There were some bright moments but I am beginning to realize Mel Brooks' humor is very generational and immature. Sure let's push limits I am all for that. I am not in the mood to watch someone who just became old enough to swear infront of their parents. This movie is contigent upon racism. Funny but I think that it needed stronger supporting elements. Maybe the other unsettling feeling I have is directly tied to Gene Wilder. Maybe.
I feel bad that I don't appreciate these classics the way older people do. Some point down the road some kid will not see the value of Swingers for example. Blazing Saddles simply half delivered. Older adults like it because they get to hear racist words and laugh with them like they did in the segregated cafeterias. Let's face it we don't need to put a movie in to laugh about racism. Shock humor is something that I think should be common place but as an accessory. After thirty minutes we are forced to tell ourselves- ok I get it. They're white and they're black. That's comedy.
My petition I guess is for us to find more intelligent race humor as we return from the silliness of the PC world. Same goes for sexism, try not to tell a woman the cliche of "back in the kitchen." That is so played people. Let's stop being our grandpa's holiday dinner table punchlines.
The elderly are drunk off experience and feel like all need to see them brag it out like a second semester freshman. "I remember when some group of (insert any nationality) came to our neighborhood..." I don't know how many times I have sat down to listen about how wrong other nationalities are according to the elderly. Then adults will defend them with "well they are old and are set in their ways." They are set in their ways because no one told their seniors to stop being so ignorant. I respect the elderly just not everything they say.
When I get old I look forward to having grey hair but I sure don't want the sagging, wrinkled flesh. Looking like I am wearing an oversized sweater of me. That looks gross no matter what your skin color.
Monday, November 21, 2005
All That Glitters
The weekend brought on many new tales to tell but there are a few more pressing than others. I did a contest show and didn't win but that was not the big news. Besides having a good set, this was one in a long time since we had a rude crowd. Except they were mainly there for one act. Once they shut up we other comics realized that these guys brought the house with people that don't know how to act at a comedy show.
All we knew is that they were from NU. That's all we needed. Every comic after made comments to mock them into silence. Which was pointless but was a consellation prize for us. My favorite comment made was "I hear that we have a bunch of Northwestern students here tonight, do they teach you manners up there or do you have to pay an extra 30 thousand a year for that?" Well said.
I managed to meet a girl at a bar on Saturday but that was not the big story in my opinion. We ended up at some late night bar in the city and I was approached by another girl. Harmless. She asks me my name. Suspicious. Then she asks for my last name. She is the fall guy for some lame-o. She steps aside to show me that one guy I went to high school was there. So we caught up and that was formulaic but still fun since he was in my opinion a nice guy. Yet a nice guy controlled by dicks at school thus making him a puppet. After saying what I was up to he was supportive and then I reply (power of alcohol) "but since you never bothered to give me the time of day in school, this all doesn't make a goddamn difference now does it? I don't even know why I am fucking talking to you. I think I will go back to talking with that girl I met at the last bar. Take care."
Ironically, he and his girlfriend laughed with me. Honesty is so freeing. He knew it, I knew it too. You don't always have to wait five years for a reunion.
All we knew is that they were from NU. That's all we needed. Every comic after made comments to mock them into silence. Which was pointless but was a consellation prize for us. My favorite comment made was "I hear that we have a bunch of Northwestern students here tonight, do they teach you manners up there or do you have to pay an extra 30 thousand a year for that?" Well said.
I managed to meet a girl at a bar on Saturday but that was not the big story in my opinion. We ended up at some late night bar in the city and I was approached by another girl. Harmless. She asks me my name. Suspicious. Then she asks for my last name. She is the fall guy for some lame-o. She steps aside to show me that one guy I went to high school was there. So we caught up and that was formulaic but still fun since he was in my opinion a nice guy. Yet a nice guy controlled by dicks at school thus making him a puppet. After saying what I was up to he was supportive and then I reply (power of alcohol) "but since you never bothered to give me the time of day in school, this all doesn't make a goddamn difference now does it? I don't even know why I am fucking talking to you. I think I will go back to talking with that girl I met at the last bar. Take care."
Ironically, he and his girlfriend laughed with me. Honesty is so freeing. He knew it, I knew it too. You don't always have to wait five years for a reunion.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Curtain
White washed necessity
abyssed
in void of end
yet rampid of obscurity
trembeling for reasons
shadows round corners
it works with fists of frustrations
slipping as pressure glares
taunting
for not being more
sterile looks of foreign
thoughts jack knife
busted and steaming these
a velvet drape of insight
concealing rotting potential
thick, heavy, and edged in
manifest tradition
stage is set and
the show must go on
it must
will
&
does
abyssed
in void of end
yet rampid of obscurity
trembeling for reasons
shadows round corners
it works with fists of frustrations
slipping as pressure glares
taunting
for not being more
sterile looks of foreign
thoughts jack knife
busted and steaming these
a velvet drape of insight
concealing rotting potential
thick, heavy, and edged in
manifest tradition
stage is set and
the show must go on
it must
will
&
does
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Can It Be Done?
Tomorrow starts the revival of what is commonly known amongst us as tomorrow. I sit hear with my list of things to do this years. We are a bit off the path on those but some are done. Tomorrow I will be embarking on what I could consider an ideal situation. I wake up to go swim for about an hour, then go to work (after showering of course), and then hit an open mic. With a show on Friday and every day with some sort of performing but Thursday, I very well may combust.
If you don't burn out, you certainly will fade out.
~~~~~
I went out on Saturday to an Irish pub wearing a track jacket saying "Dublin." Going home empty handed is not a matter of swagger or moxy but strategic planning to find a drive thru.
Right now I am at a the peak of romantic-thermia. I am surrounded by couples and can't break loose. It stings right now to be the odd integer at the gatherings but I have grown accustomed to being the guy that will wrench teams at the board game nights and leave it up to everyone to reluctantly go boys v girls. Not that anyone but my friend's family plays board games in an open forum.
We went to another bar and that was great. I think we like bars because they are a weekly highschool reunion. In one section we have the cheerleaders turned cosmotologists, the washed up jocks turned salesmen permiate from the urinals to the closest point of Jaeger. The pariahs are now hipsters, no one gets why they are there- still. Damn black framed glasses.
No matter how nice you are when you are in a bar you are equally as judgemental. There is nothing to do in a bar but speculate. I bet she's a slut. No way he is the bitch in the relationship. Check out that cry for attention by the window. Hey bud, how do you do it? How is it that you are the only one in the midwest to tan in November? Oh a salon? Hey look at the hot girl and her ugly friend accessory.
That is a combination that I think is the most overlooked. An emotional support system for lack of attention and over enrollment in sports for each respectively. When girls clearly are hanging with the less attractive it is like doing volunteer work. How do you give back to the community? I let Jamie come out with my friends. Kind of like a habitat for popularity. Come together to help an other socially deprived person live the dream of...having friends.
Don't get me wrong, I believe in integration of the masses. It is just that some are operating with alterior motives. Who's quota do you satisfy?
If you don't burn out, you certainly will fade out.
~~~~~
I went out on Saturday to an Irish pub wearing a track jacket saying "Dublin." Going home empty handed is not a matter of swagger or moxy but strategic planning to find a drive thru.
Right now I am at a the peak of romantic-thermia. I am surrounded by couples and can't break loose. It stings right now to be the odd integer at the gatherings but I have grown accustomed to being the guy that will wrench teams at the board game nights and leave it up to everyone to reluctantly go boys v girls. Not that anyone but my friend's family plays board games in an open forum.
We went to another bar and that was great. I think we like bars because they are a weekly highschool reunion. In one section we have the cheerleaders turned cosmotologists, the washed up jocks turned salesmen permiate from the urinals to the closest point of Jaeger. The pariahs are now hipsters, no one gets why they are there- still. Damn black framed glasses.
No matter how nice you are when you are in a bar you are equally as judgemental. There is nothing to do in a bar but speculate. I bet she's a slut. No way he is the bitch in the relationship. Check out that cry for attention by the window. Hey bud, how do you do it? How is it that you are the only one in the midwest to tan in November? Oh a salon? Hey look at the hot girl and her ugly friend accessory.
That is a combination that I think is the most overlooked. An emotional support system for lack of attention and over enrollment in sports for each respectively. When girls clearly are hanging with the less attractive it is like doing volunteer work. How do you give back to the community? I let Jamie come out with my friends. Kind of like a habitat for popularity. Come together to help an other socially deprived person live the dream of...having friends.
Don't get me wrong, I believe in integration of the masses. It is just that some are operating with alterior motives. Who's quota do you satisfy?
Saturday, November 12, 2005
The Interview
I have subscribed to one of the all time best bathroom reads, Rolling Stone. This current issue on the stand has Bono's mug hawking the cover. I like U2 very much. I would like to know more about them and how they came to be. I would even like to know more about the individuals but is there a way we could turn down the Bono factor?
He has a 7 page interview, which these pages are huge. I would need to take a pack of Immodium AD to be able to have sufficient reading time. The whole thing bothers me for a couple reasons. 1. I just can't finish this damn interview. It's a goddamn Shakespearean interview that has no end. 2. Bono found a way to come off pretentious on paper. Amazing that someone so humble can come off like his great life was an accident. 3. The interviewer can't come off any more naive with the array of questions being asked.
What is our nation's motive with putting U2 on such a high standard? Is there really no one else? With smash success Green Day maybe but no one else can really take the nation's attention like U2. The Stone are a novelty to us all now. We go and listen only to talk about it like some cheap conquest of social levitation. Aerosmith will never be more than a good rock band that is constantly in the shadows of the Stones and now U2.
Are we only fascinated with U2 because of the resurgeance of how cool the 80s were? Is this all just a giant promotion for a VH1 show that will count down something that can't be ranked by people who can't stay off everyone's "who's that?" list? I am lead to believe that like in film we have run out of good ideas for music. Now we are going back to the last great thing and since reliving the 70s would be more than a catastrophe of glam and roller skating we found the 80s again.
Whether U2 is trying or not they are the heirs to rock. The Stones will die once, well maybe in thirty years when being 100 and on tour is assinying.
He has a 7 page interview, which these pages are huge. I would need to take a pack of Immodium AD to be able to have sufficient reading time. The whole thing bothers me for a couple reasons. 1. I just can't finish this damn interview. It's a goddamn Shakespearean interview that has no end. 2. Bono found a way to come off pretentious on paper. Amazing that someone so humble can come off like his great life was an accident. 3. The interviewer can't come off any more naive with the array of questions being asked.
What is our nation's motive with putting U2 on such a high standard? Is there really no one else? With smash success Green Day maybe but no one else can really take the nation's attention like U2. The Stone are a novelty to us all now. We go and listen only to talk about it like some cheap conquest of social levitation. Aerosmith will never be more than a good rock band that is constantly in the shadows of the Stones and now U2.
Are we only fascinated with U2 because of the resurgeance of how cool the 80s were? Is this all just a giant promotion for a VH1 show that will count down something that can't be ranked by people who can't stay off everyone's "who's that?" list? I am lead to believe that like in film we have run out of good ideas for music. Now we are going back to the last great thing and since reliving the 70s would be more than a catastrophe of glam and roller skating we found the 80s again.
Whether U2 is trying or not they are the heirs to rock. The Stones will die once, well maybe in thirty years when being 100 and on tour is assinying.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
i-can
I sit writing this blog now officially back in touch with the Jones'. Working this entry while rocking to "Be Yourself" on my new i-pod video. Freaking sweet. I once thought love of inanimate objects was wrong but this sucker is a idealists ticket to hell. It can do it all, except of course explain why the cords need to be white.
This purchase has been eating away at me for months. Months have I had the patience to hold out knowing that someday I would waste the same ammount of money on a fancy date or car payment and opt for a walking juke box. What does this device mean for me? I now can be as pretentious as the rest of the world only with the latest model. Where you at now bitches?!
Something happened tonight that is more exciting than this i-pod. I have been in touch with one of my teachers and I am going to help out with a sketch show that is to the caliber and talent to be pitched, shown, and featured in festivals. Now I won't be the lackey running to get coffee all the time. No, titles such as assistant produce/director have been used. Is this great? Yes. For my family's sake- no still not getting paid for this but that is the test to what you should really do.
So now it looks like my schedule is back up and running now that our show is closing tomorrow. Hitting the open mics three times a week would be clutch, then rehearsal on the show, some gym time and early sleep on Thursday will let me officially burn out on Friday. With all plans set- please don't call me on until 3pm on Saturdays.
No complaints here.
This purchase has been eating away at me for months. Months have I had the patience to hold out knowing that someday I would waste the same ammount of money on a fancy date or car payment and opt for a walking juke box. What does this device mean for me? I now can be as pretentious as the rest of the world only with the latest model. Where you at now bitches?!
Something happened tonight that is more exciting than this i-pod. I have been in touch with one of my teachers and I am going to help out with a sketch show that is to the caliber and talent to be pitched, shown, and featured in festivals. Now I won't be the lackey running to get coffee all the time. No, titles such as assistant produce/director have been used. Is this great? Yes. For my family's sake- no still not getting paid for this but that is the test to what you should really do.
So now it looks like my schedule is back up and running now that our show is closing tomorrow. Hitting the open mics three times a week would be clutch, then rehearsal on the show, some gym time and early sleep on Thursday will let me officially burn out on Friday. With all plans set- please don't call me on until 3pm on Saturdays.
No complaints here.
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