More Cowbell

The kids aren't all right

2006-05-31T23:49:00.000-05:00

In three days, out of one house in Florida, NBC caught 24 sexual predators on the mind-blowing Dateline spin off “To Catch a Predator.”
24.
Twenty Four.
I said goddamn! Goddamn.
Kids today have got it tough! Being 14 sucks enough without having every truck driver in the country trying to fuck you. It’s no wonder that they all are smoking meth and injecting heroin into their eyeballs. I probably would do that too if every time I went online some 240 lbs. 40 year old was sending me pictures of his bits and pieces.
The main reason I’m worried about the kids isn’t because they have all of these new pressure and threats, it’s because they seem to be too stupid to avoid this shit. It doesn’t really take a whole lot of sense or an advanced degree to know that meeting up with some random dude with a greasy ponytail in his panel van is a bad idea.
I saw a group of 4 of the most annoying middle school kids in the world on the T last week, and they were passing around a bag of weed, smelling it, and discussing how they should ignite it. This is the level of stupidity that we have come to. It might be that or it might also be a sense of invulnerability. Who knows but it when I have kids they better be fucking brilliant. That way I won’t have to kill them.

Fun Facts:
Bees, dogs and the homeless can smell fear.

Italians consume 97.6% of the gold chains produced annually.

Hell has 100% humidity.

A Post. Weird, I know

2006-05-16T16:56:00.000-05:00

Hey…

What’s going on?

Look… I know it’s been a while… but I… I just can’t live without you anymore…

I tried.

I’m sorry… I said some things I didn’t mean. You’re not too time consuming. We can make this work. I want it to work… I need it to work.

I still… love… you.

I know it will take a lot of hard work… but I’m ready for that now.

I’ll make things right. I promise.

(There. We’ve reconciled… for the kids)

Updates in progress… for serious.

There's too many of 'em!!

2006-02-17T00:15:00.000-05:00

School’s a bitch.
It is really fucking time consuming. Which is the reason for the piss poor updating I’ve been doing. I apologize.

Anyway, in my hiatus from the general population of my peers I feel like an even greater rift has formed. Apparently broads are now going for that Eskimo chic look. They are all about these atrocious boots that can only be described as mukluks. It looks like they are about to head out to club some seals. I can’t possibly imagine looking in the mirror with large fuzzy boots on, complete with pom-poms on strings, and thinking that it was acceptable to wear them in public. These dames are totally fucking nuts.
To complete their look, they tend to sport gigantic sunglasses that look like they should be piloting a rebel Y-wing fighter, preparing to take a run at the Death Star’s 2-meter retractor-port (It’s not as hard as it sounds, I used to bull’s-eye womp rats in my T-16 back home, and they’re not much bigger than 2 meters).
The whole ensemble just doesn’t make any sense. Their bottom half says: “I’m about to head back to my igloo to cure caribou skins to use in crafting some clothing and maybe a tent to use as housing during the summer months when the temperature rises above freezing and my igloo melts.” However their top half says: “I’m about to haul ass to the ice planet Hoth to hide from the empire while the rebels regroup and plan the next stage of the revolution.”
Holy Shit! That’s the connection! Eskimos live in the cold Artic costal regions containing vast expanses of… Ice. In Stars Wars, the rebels destroy the Death Star then retreat to the… ICE planet Hoth. Ok. It all makes sense now. Disregard everything I just wrote.
Seriously though, it’s just damn confusing and completely unattractive. Any dame who thinks it’s a good look is kidding herself and any dude who finds it enticing should be shot. Yes, shot.

Buy it right now: The New Pornographers – Twin Cinema
I’ve owned it for sometime now and have listened to it infinity times and it just keeps getting better. It is a masterpiece.

Snap.

2006-01-31T22:40:00.000-05:00

I figured I should update at least once this month. See, I'm doing a play. That's right, a play. And, it is damn time consuming. And, I know what you're thinking, and the answer is yes. I turned gay the second I walked out on stage. But, I got some shit on the hopper. Next week should be the triumphant return of my awesomeness, so sit tight.

It's fucking good, Sir!

2005-12-12T00:26:00.000-05:00

I enjoy disagreeing with people. Especially over matters of opinion, mainly because I can’t be wrong, since it’s my opinion, and also because I am always right, since it’s my opinion. Mark Twain said it best: “in all matters of opinion our adversaries are insane.”
So, when I read a review of My Morning Jacket’s latest release, Z, claiming that it was on par with Radiohead’s OK Computer, it terms of greatness combined with the band tapping it’s full potential, I immediately marched down to Newbury Comics to get a copy to fuel my rebuttal to the claim. Alas, I cannot disagree. It’s fucking good.
I am, admittedly, liberal with my “It sucks” labeling, mainly because most music does suck. How many different “singer/songwriters” can I take until my brain eats its self? They’re part of the reason why I have been listening to a lot of jazz lately. Anything other than some pussy whining about a broad and tossing out a shit load of lame metaphors that usually contain weather conditions or some form of travel.
So, you can imagine how refreshing lyrics like…
“
In a crowded room near the box of boom, to an artificial tune, I see you swoon.
“
…are. Simplistic, somewhat humorous, and above all else unassuming.
This combined with just about the perfect mix of smooth electronic grooves and crunchy rock riffs. It pleases me in many ways. And as it turns out, they can just flat out jam too. They also manage to avoid the common pitfall that most bands have when “jamming out,” that being wearing out the endurance of the listener. Most of the time a jam will leave me with the “Ok, I get it” feeling, but My Morning Jacket wraps everything into a beautifully simplified and tight package.
Z is so damn good that in a matter of three weeks it went from earning my resentment for comparison to the infallible Radiohead to cracking my all time ‘desert island’ top 5. No easy feat.
Definitely run out right now and buy this album, but only if you're not afraid of viewing the world in a new light afterwards. Colors will be brighter, food will taste better, and you will be a more awesome version of yourself.

For the record…

All Time Desert Island Top 5 (in no particular order)
Radiohead - Kid A
Ben Folds Five – Ben Folds Five
My Morning Jacket – Z
The Beta Band – The Three EPs
Pink Floyd – Wish You Were Here

Honorable Mentions (in no particular order)
Ryan Adams – Love is Hell
Dave Matthews Band – The Central Park Concert
Elliott Smith – XO
Miles Davis – Bitches Brew
Phish – Billy Breathes

let the fetus rock

The absence of color

2005-11-13T15:29:00.000-05:00

If there is one thing that pop-culture has taught me in the past few years it is that albinos are evil. Apparently, pigment is the physical manifestation of a soul. Albinos have no pigment. Ipso facto, albinos are evil. It’s all in the eyes (or not in them).
The most notable evil albino is Silas, the gigantic Opus Dei assassin in the Da Vinci Code. That big bastard killed his way across Europe with that freaky corporal mortification belt digging into his leg the whole time. His soul was as black as his hair was white. I even think he raped someone at some point. I can’t remember for certain if he did or not, but he is albino so I’ll just assume that he did.
Then there is the town guard, Boise, from Cold Mountain. He was more creepy than evil; although, he did end up killing Jude Law. He was nowhere near the level of evil that Silas was, but still evil non-the-less. He never really said anything; he would just kind of smirk and stare with those dead red eyes. He is the type of dude who knows that he creeps people out and enjoys it.
Looking back a bit farther, the 1993 movie The Firm also has an evil albino. One of the henchmen working for the firm is pigment-less. In the movie he kills Gary Busey, blows up a boat with three people on it, and eventually gets shot to death by the Quaker Oatmeal dude. Now that’s some evil combined with volumes of unintentional comedy. In addition to all of this, he runs with out moving his upper body at all, which makes for an exceedingly hilarious climactic chase scene.
Even the Matrix Reloaded has evil albinos. The Twins are evil albino programs who move through the Matrix like ghosts. They fuck shit up big time for my boy Neo. Even digital albinos love evil doing.
I can’t think of any pop-culture appearances of albinos where they are getting a kitten out of a tree, or helping an old woman cross the street. Does this mean that albinos don’t do these things from time to time?
Yes.
Pop-culture is a mirror of our world (a precise mirror at that). If there hasn’t been a book or movie with a good hearted albino in it, then that means that they don’t exist. That is just the truth. Even if there has been such a book or movie, until I read/see it, albinos are still evil in my reality.

What's that smell?

2005-11-10T08:03:00.000-05:00

Why is it that 90% of every major metropolitan area reeks of piss? Not even just a faint hint of piss either, it smells like someone sprayed down every possible surface with a nice liberal coating of piss. This couldn’t possibly be just the bums doing, could it? While they do consume large amounts of alcohol, which is a know cause of frequent urination, they could not be solely responsible. They would have to devote large chunks of their already busy day to pissing on things, and with all the incoherent babbling and quarter hording I don't see where they could find the time.

There must be another source. Some other demographic must also be publicly urinating to reach this level of piss saturation. Immediately the mind goes to the college student. They (we) are young and not very mindful of city hygiene efforts, they (we) frequent bars and other establishments that provide copious amounts of "fuel," and in any given city (especially Boston) they (we) are a massive segment of the population. This all seems to add up. But then upon further inspection of the actual piss smell, frequency, and location, something seems a miss.
Every summer Boston empties out as the local colleges reach their summer vacation periods, drastically reducing the population of 18-23 year olds. However, the piss smell remains, and as we all know; only fresh piss will let off that unique pissy aroma. In addition to this, the piss smell is found all over the city, in place that college kids typically do not trek, such as the financial district and Beacon Hill. Furthermore, the smell occurs every day of the week, not just on the weekend nights or the odd Thirsty Thursday.
All of this would lead one to believe that there is an X-factor, a mystery pisser "on the grassy nole" so to speak. Who could this be you ask?
Old people.
Enlarged prostates and the resulting frequent urination aside, it makes sense in a very primal, territorial sense. Much like dogs and other animals, these old people are feeling the need to mark their territory. This is the old peoples subtle way of saying, "Get out" to all of us younglings. And I can't say that I really blame them. When I am old I don't want to have to deal with anything new or unfamiliar that usually accompanies youth.
That is why I plan on moving to the country with my many millions. Buy a ranch somewhere, maybe take up the banjo, and just avoid change for 30 years, but I digress.
So, there we have it. Cases closed. We have it sorted.
Old people: We’re not going anywhere, so stop the pissing on stuff.

Welcome to the Machine

2005-11-02T21:50:00.000-05:00

Up until last month, one of my favorite sites on the Internet was the ConeZone. Basically, it was some dude from Reykavík, Iceland, who would upload full episodes of Late Night with Conan O’Brien weekly along with select skits from the show for the world’s enjoyment. The site had no ads at all and even had a catalog of every Conan episode from the past 5 years. It was… Perfect.
Was.
Then NBC Universal caught wind of it.
All poor Björn Flóki was trying to do was provide people with the COB fix they craved. I would drop by a couple times a week to catch anything I may have missed. It was a service that I enjoyed immensely.
Of course, NBC Universal wasn’t getting any scratch from this wondrous site, so they had to put the kybosh on it. Yet another example of NBC’s recent foray into mediocrity. I guess it’s not enough to only come in last in the ratings; they want to crush the spirits of the fan base for their successful shows too, ensuring their further decline.
I could understand action being taken if this gentleman was turning a profit from his hosting of this site, but he wasn’t, he was doing it for the love of COB. If anything, I am willing to bet that he increased the viewership of Late Night. On several occasions I would cruise over to ConeZone, remember how perfect COB is, and make a point to watch the show that night. The site was like a showcase for COB.
As usual, it is all about cashesh, rather than the quality of the show. Lately, I’ve become increasingly disenchanted with television in general. It’s such an obvious statement, but as a whole there is just a total disregard for quality. Networks only care about selling ad space and as a result 90% of what’s on is garbage. Late Night is one of the few acceptable shows on TV, and NBC has managed to make even that less awesome.
I mourn the loss of ConeZone. Björn Flóki, I will miss you. NBC, you fucking suck.

Note: While NBC does blow, My Name is Earl, and The Office are both kick-ass

Pimp my Prius

2005-10-23T15:34:00.000-05:00

When I see a really expensive car driving down the street, one thought goes through my mind: Wow. That guy must be a prick. Is there any faster or more failsafe indicator of someone’s douche bagginess? I think not.
I can certainly understand wanting to have a reliable and comfortable automobile to “cruise” in, but why would you want to own a car that is like a giant billboard advertising to the world that you are an asshole? It seems to me that these people are not comfortable enough with themselves to think people will accept them as they are, so, they buy these autos to be their representative of sorts.
It just doesn’t make sense. These sorts of cars are twice as expensive as an ordinary transport and they will almost certainly require premium gas. So, you spend about 30 grand more base, plus another 15 bucks every time you fill up. All of this to make it to the grocery store in style. And then, while your baby is parked at the grocery store, some errant shopping cart or a car door opened with too much vigor could cause thousands of dollars of damage because any parts needed have to be flown in from Germany, and the paint needs to be mixed by some artisan in Milan, and the mechanic is a certified PhD of automobiles.
You might as well just set your money on fire and walk down the street kicking puppies.
No matter what the price tag, there is no vehicle more compensator than a Hummer. With one of these monstrosities you can show your own personality in addition to your views towards the environment at the same time. A “Fuck You Mobile” in every sense of the term.
When I am walking down the street and I see one of these types of cars I am careful to not even glance in its direction. The last thing I want to do is stroke the ego of one of these douche bags. Being ignored completely is exactly the type of medicine that these assholes need.
When I talk about this with friends or co-workers they invariably ask: “If you had unlimited funds, what car would you drive?” The answer is a Subaru Outback and a Toyota Prius. The Outback for the winter and the Prius for the summer. Why? Because I am not a prick.

Yankees Suck

2005-10-11T22:25:00.000-05:00

Well. The Red Sox were eliminated form the baseball playoffs last Friday after being full on raped by the Chicago White Sox, but, strangely, I don’t care at all. Sure, I’m slightly disappointed, but the usual sting is almost completely absent this year. Could this be a by-product of last years World Series victory? Maybe, but it feels more like something else. Could it be because the Yankees were also eliminated in the first round? Yeah, that sounds about right.
When the Angles recorded the final out against the Yankees last night I was grinning from ear to ear and I leaped off my couch, much as I would have if the Sox had just clinched. That surprised me. I knew I wanted the Yankees to lose but I didn’t realize that I actually cared that much. Which got me thinking. Do I really love the Red Sox or do I just hate the Yankees?
It seems that my focus every season is beating the Yankees. Everything else is just gravy. Much like how last year my excitement peaked after the ALCS; the World Series didn’t really bring it to another level, it just added a parade to the party.
There is just something about the Yankees. I just hate them so much. It feels so good to see them sulking in the dugout, dreading the massive amounts of shit they are going to get from The Big Boss.
They really don’t have any redeeming characters in the bunch. Giambi is just a big, greasy, steroid cranking, guido bastard. His hair is just constantly dripping wet and it just doesn’t make any sense. A-rod is a whiny little girl who likes to swallow pounds of chicken bones in the playoffs, and Jeter is the type of prissy jackass you can’t root for.
The Yankees are that kid in high school who drove a BMW, dated the prom queen, was the captain of the football team and was just too squeaky clean to like. Our vindictive side comes out in regards to these people, we want them to lose at something. That is part of the reason that it feels so good when they get eliminated. The Yankees are a team full of those kids. Rich, spoiled, obnoxious, assholes, who just need a nice long loosing streak to make them a little more likeable and humble.
I just hate them so much. I don’t really care who beats them, as long as someone does. If it’s the Sox, all the better. When it comes right down to it though, it’s safe to say I would rather see the Yankees lose than see the Red Sox win.

6 Reasons to watch My Name is Earl

2005-10-02T00:43:00.000-05:00

1. I rarely actually laugh aloud when watching any TV show or movie, but during My Name is Earl I uncontrollably chuckle for a half hour straight. It really blows my mind that it makes me physically laugh. Most shows, even ones I find incredibly funny, will only get me to smile or nod my head in approval, actually laughter is the highest compliment.

2. Jason Lee looks almost identical to one of my best friends, Matt Johnston, and that just makes me happy. There is just some reassuring quality to his smile that makes you relax, it’s very charming.

3. It has Ethan Suplee in it. He was Frankie Stechino in Boy Meets World, Thumper in The Butterfly Effect, and a morbidly obese white supremacist in American History X. If that isn’t range, I don’t know what is. Oh, and he was Tiny in The First $20 Million is Always the Hardest, which is just a terrible movie, but it’s very entertaining at 3am and Ethan is quite hilarious in it.

4. It is on directly before The Office, another fantastic show, which serves as a great juxtaposition. A loser trying to improve his karmic situation and a group of people wasting their lives in 40 hour a week increments, fantastic.

5. The Rubber Band Man from the OfficeMax commercials has a fairly significant role as Crab Man. In the pantheon of great hair this guy is going to take his rightful seat next to Conan O’Brien and Bobby Kielty. I half expect him to come dancing into each scene and start handing out staplers and boxes of paper clips.

6. Any show that isn’t filmed like a standard sitcom is automatically 3-4 points higher than standard shows and My Name is Earl is actually polished to a greater degree than most movies. It’s just high quality all around.

Quick note on baseball...

Since this is the last weekend of the MLB regular season a lot of attention has been paid to the AL MVP race. Most people seem to think that the race has boiled down to Alex Rodriguez and David Ortiz and they talk endlessly about their offensive production numbers, which are almost identical. However, no one seems to be talking about one number that is, in my mind, one of the most important factors: David Ortiz: 5.25 vs. A-Rod: 25.7. Know what that is? Salary in millions.
A-Rod is being paid almost five times what Papi is and his numbers are almost the same. That, to me, is all that matters. MVP: Most Valuable Player. Big Papi is making a fifth of what A-Rod is and is knocking the shit out of the ball when it matters. Case closed. Papi for MVP!

Brewed Crack

2005-09-26T18:38:00.000-05:00

I never thought I would ever become a coffee drinker. It’s bitter, it’s the source of tremendous bad breath, and it’s is hot, which I don’t care for. But lately, I’ve been sucking it down like some sort of heavenly nectar. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I’m addicted, but I definitely look forward to my morning boost. All of this annoys me terribly. I have enough needs and drains on my income as it is, I don’t need more addictions.
The coffee culture is some what despicable if you think about it. For all intents and purposes it is just a drug. Just like nicotine, or crystal meth, it reeves you up to an unnatural state. Smoking has become an incredibly frowned upon habit as of late and, although it poses some serious health risks, it is not that different from coffee. If anything, coffee is worse.
Coffee costs more. Some large coffees at Starbucks or Dunkin’ Donuts cost about six or seven billion dollars, where as a pack of smokes is still relatively cheap.
Coffee is much more widely available. I pass four Starbucks and three Dunkin’ Donuts on my way to work, imagine trying to kick an addiction with all that temptation. In addition to that, kids can buy it without a problem. It is almost completely unregulated. I don’t know about anyone else, but after I have had a few strong cups I can barley type and, although I’ve never tried it, I’m sure my driving would not be improved.
In addition to all of this, people in our increasingly fat-ass and diabetic nation, are pumping their coffee full of cream, sugar, caramel, whipped cream, peppermint, cinnamon, extra caffeine, lard, small dogs, jam, and pretty much and anything else that can push their weight north of 500lbs. Some people probably suck down about 3,000 calories a day in the form of these enormous heart attack coolattas.
I am not saying that coffee should be regulated, or that people should stop drinking it, or that smoking cigarettes is anything less than disgusting. I am merely suggesting that coffee isn’t a good thing to start drinking, and that people should reassess their consumption of it. Being addicted to coffee is somehow acceptable while people who are addicted to cigarettes are shunned. That isn’t right. Hell, my Grandparents smoked for decades and they lived well-past 80.
Well, it has me in its French Roasted grasp and I’ll probably never escape. I should just start chain-smoking unfiltered Camels and blowing huge rails of crystal meth. Then I can be “cool.”

List of current addictions

1. Food
2. Electricity
3. Cable TV/Internet
4. Music
5. Diet Coke
6. Al’s State Street Café*
7. Coffee*
8. T passes
9. Black Tar Heroin*

* = Acquired within the past 3 months

Scrumptious

2005-09-21T20:14:00.000-05:00

When I was little just about the only thing I would eat was cereal; Cheerios, mainly. I've even eaten cereal with chopsticks. In the course of my, relatively, short life I have probably consumed approximately 13 metric tons of cereal. So, you can imagine my dismay when senior year in high school I started to become increasingly lactose intolerant. It is to the point now where I can't even eat a small about of ice cream without being incapacitated for hours. It is the thing I would change first about myself, if given the chance (And for the record, Lactaid pills don't work. They're completely useless, which I found out the hard way.) This is a tragic affliction.
Beyond basic everyday dairy consumption, this condition has robbed me of one of my oldest dreams: to eat an entire box of cereal directly from the box.
I want to open a fresh box of cereal, pour the milk directly into the inner plastic lining, and eat it with a gigantic serving spoon. Gluttony at it's finest.
It would probably be the most fun eating I could ever have. The empty space left in the liner to prevent the cereal from being crushed would be the perfect amount of space to ad the proper amount of milk and when you are finished you simply throw the box away. Also, you could eat it sitting on the couch and be virtually assured not to spill. Breakfast and no clean-up: Can life get any better? I submit that it cannot.
I also think that this could be a great idea for a restaurant. They could be like a lazy man’s restaurant and specialize in things like this. Ice cream right out of the carton, milk and orange juice straight from the jug, just about everything served in the most half-assed way in incredible portions by a surly waiter. I would love a place like that, and I’m sure others would as well. Standard restaurants become so boring after awhile, a unique place like this would be a welcomed change of pace.

Buenos noches amigos

2005-09-15T00:02:00.000-05:00

Jerry Remy has become an icon in New England. Through the success of the Red Sox and his charisma he has built a mini empire. He owns and operates theremyreport.com (complete with crappy merchandise and tacky graphics), has a concession stand (RemDawg's) at Fenway, and has a full service restaurant under development.
On the surface he seems like a great guy. He is actively involved in the community, has a good sense of humor, and he's charming. However, the more I watch him (which is a lot, considering that I watch, almost, every sox game from start to finish) the more I feel like he's kind of a douche bag, especially to the play-by-play man Don Orsillo. Last year they had an undeniably addictive chemistry but Remy’s cross over success must have gone to his head. Admittedly, I do have a soft spot for Don, since he is a Northeastern alum and is just about the most likeable play-by-play man I've ever herd, but anyone can appreciate his situation based on basic human compassion.

Sometimes, when they cut to Don and Remy in the booth, the tension is palpable. Don tries his best to propel the conversation at a friendly and casual pace, but Remy’s "Fuck Off" demeanor is usually too great to overcome. Even gentle ribbing can result in an awkward dismissal followed by a painful silence when Remy isn’t in the mood to participate in the conversation. When they cut to commercial Remy must reprimand Don until he is in tears. Remy probably only refers to himself in the third person too. "The RemDawg is sick of your shit Don! This is the RemDawg's show and you better not fucking forget! You just call your damn plays and set up the Dawg to plug his web site!"
Don must live in constant fear of Remy’s wrath. Remy probably stamps out his cigarettes on Don's arm during the telecast, daring him to cry out. After the telecast, while most of the NESN "personalities" are probably socializing with player, getting info to use on the air, Remy probably forces Don to wait in the van under threat of smack so he starts "acting right."
The 2004 season was just perfect. Now, with the curse finally lifted, there have been some rather undesirable occurrences, this Remy transformation being one of them (Others included an exponential increase in bandwagon fans, higher ticket prices, Fever Pitch, and Ben Affleck.) For Don's sake, I hope Remy can find his roots again, before he starts blowing coke and killing prostitutes.

Impartial?

2005-09-13T00:10:00.000-05:00

Last week, while fulfilling my civic duty, I decided that I would never commit murder.
Most people always assume that they would never commit murder anyway, but I like to leave my options open, because you never know. However, after spending two days with my "peers" on the jury of a lawsuit it became freighting obvious that 99% of people fall into one of two categories: retarded or vindictive. I could tell from the moment I walked into the jury pool room that the phrase "a jury of your peers" is one that is open to debate. Half of the potential jurors looked like the should be standing outside of a methadone clinic while the others seemed pissed that they actually had to associate with people who didn't drive an automobile with it’s roots in Nazi airplane engines.
These are the people I would spend the next two days with.
Obviously, I was selected for the jury on the only case that made it to trial that day (an insanely boring and needlessly complicated suit between two octogenarians). After hearing about 4 hours of irrelevant testimony from the plaintiff it was clear that this was not going to wrap up in one day. I had to fight the urge to stand up and declare that I had made up my mind and that no further testimony was necessary. The plaintiff finally rested about 10 minutes before the courts dismissal time, so the following day was sure to be full of the same pointless bullshit with no end in sight (I wouldn’t have been surprised if it spilled into a third day.)
Day two was comprised of the hard of hearing defendant questioning the plaintiff about random shit that really made no difference in the case, like when the first day they met was or whether or not they considered each other friends. Here is an example of one of their exchanges about pointless shit:

Defendant: On, or around… April… Third… We meet… for the first time… at the … (Uhh)… (Uhh)…Library. Is that correct?
Plaintiff: Well, I don’t recall that as our first… He’s shaking his head! He is shaking his head your Honor!
Judge: Sir, please refrain from such jesters.
Defendant: I apologize… your… (Uhh)… your Honor. You don’t remember our… meeting?
Plaintiff: No.
Defendant: You’re lying.
Plaintiff: Your Honor!
Judge: I’ll strike that, jury will disregard.

Yeah, it was some maddening shit.
Anyway, I digress.
Once the case got bounced to the jury I was thinking that deliberation would take about 10 minutes, in and out. I didn’t anticipate the powerful combination of stupidity and domineering asshole.
Not more than 5 minutes into the deliberation, BMW man was making flow charts on the white board and trying to conduct the deliberations as if we were employees. We obviously had nothing of value to add because we didn’t understand the intricacies of contracts. Meanwhile, the gentleman to my left smelled like cigarettes, mints, scotch, and an interesting blend of cheap cologne and B.O.
Eventually, I began to go into my closer mentality (because you have to Always Be Closing) and started to drive hard to a verdict. I was determined to get out of that damn room with at least some afternoon left. This proved to be exceedingly difficult. Half of the room seemed to lack basic math skills and the other half employed the type of circular logic that can make management so infuriating.
In the end I was able to steer the jury to the outcome that I thought was appropriate, but based on what I observed, I don’t see how it would be possible to ever get away with murder. There is a sort of twisted sense of power that the jurors seem to relish in. We almost hung the defendant and it was a lawsuit.

Ice water and yet another Red Sox related distraction

2005-09-07T15:32:00.000-05:00

For the past week I’ve been getting up at my usual time (6:45 AM) and going through my usual routine only to be met in the shower with stream of water that is roughly 138 degrees below zero. I hop in, shriek like a girl, shout profanities for a few minutes, then take the most half-assed shower ever. It blows. This activity has shot up my list of least favorite things in a hurry. Currently, it’s neck and neck with vomiting for the top spot.
It throws my whole day off. I can never make it all the way through my exfoliation routine or thoroughly was my hair. I spend the rest of the day finding suds in odd places and I never fully wake up.
My morning shower is me time. I sing a little, play through some of my favorite movie scenes, and mentally prepare myself for the grueling day that lies ahead of me.
I’ve come to the conclusion that someone who moved into my building on September 1st must be using up all of the hot water before I get my chance at it. So, to them I will say this: I will find you. I will find you and you will regret your actions. You can’t hide. I will bring you down; I will bring you down to Chinatown.

(As a side note: I know the above image is lame, but search for “cold shower,” “torture,” and “water torture” and you’ll see what I had to work with… Damn perverts)

Bill Simmons has, at long last, released his first full length book:

Now I Can Die in Peace: How ESPN's Sports Guy Found Salvation, with a Little Help from Nomar, Pedro, Shawshank, and the 2004 Red Sox.

It may suck, I haven’t read it, but it judging by his constant killer material on his site it almost certainly will kick some major ass. So buy it! Besides, he’s got a baby to support now.

In addition to reading this book, I will be going to the Sox game tonight and this whole month will be a push to the playoffs, followed, of course, by the playoffs which will stretch into early 2009 and, of course, I still have my ongoing Dynasty in MVP Baseball 2005 to work on. Baseball is going to be occupying shit loads of my time for the foreseeable future so don’t expect too many posts until the Sox nail down championship #2 in my lifetime. (FYI: I've been knocking on wood for the last 2 sentences.)

Huggin' it out

2005-09-02T22:12:00.000-05:00

Entourage vaulted into my all time top five television programs in the first 15 minutes of the first episode I ever watched. And that was like three weeks ago. It’s that good.
Shows on HBO have an immediate advantage over standard network TV and basic cable because of more realistic linguistic abilities. Shit and fuck are both ready in bullpen of colloquialisms. This realism combined with great writing and excellent pacing makes for just about the most entertaining half hour on television. I just can’t get enough of it.
However, even though it feels so fresh and fascinatingly unique there is some quality to it that is comfortably familiar.
As it turns out, one of the producers/writers is Larry Charles of Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm fame. Which makes perfect sense; Entourage is like a reincarnation of Seinfeld.
On the surface they seem completely different, after all, Seinfeld was the show about nothing, while Entourage most certainly is about something, but on closer inspection the similarities are pretty abundant.
Take, for example, the main characters. Seinfeld’s cast was comprised of four friends; Jerry, Elaine, George, and Kramer. Jerry was the indisputable ringleader and, as a successful stand-up comic, was quiet well off; Elaine was an ultra close friend of Jerry’s and probably the smartest member of the group; George was chronically unemployed, a little slow, and kind of a dufus; and then there was Kramer. All of the four have their Entourage counter part (I won’t even write a description because the description of the Seinfeld cast will be just as accurate of the Entourage cast), Vincent is Jerry, Eric (“E”) is Elaine, Turtle is George, and Drama is Kramer. There is no flaw in the comparison.
Just like Jerry is to Seinfeld, Vincent is the glue of the Entourage crew. Without his success and even demeanor the show just would not work, he is the rock. He also is vital to the continued support of his brother Drama, just as Jerry is the key to Kramer’s continued existence. Drama and Kramer are as much of a mooch as Vincent and Jerry are giving. Vincent and Jerry’s success is also amplified by the contrast to Turtle and George’s failings, and some comic relief is supplied in spades by the Turtle/Drama and George/Kramer contrasts.
While neither group is very aware of the outside world, E and Elaine provide some moderate grounding in reality. They are probably the only members of the groups that could actually succeed in the real world. Also, they both seem to have latent sexual feelings for the Vincent/Jerry character which add an odd tension to discussions of relationships.
The main difference in the two series comes in the viewers mind. While Seinfeld can be taken with a grain of salt, Entourage is like goal of sorts. Immediately after my first viewing I was ready to move out to Hollywood, and that’s where it can be dangerous. Where Seinfeld is the norm, Entourage is the ideal, and it is difficult to reground yourself in reality after viewing.
The season finale of Entourage is this Sunday at 10PM on HBO. If you get HBO, watch it, and be born again in its brilliance.

For the record, here are my all time top five television shows:

1. The Cosby Show
2. Seinfeld
3. Entourage
4. Sports Night
5. Curb Your Enthusiasm

Oh, Snap!

2005-08-29T15:30:00.000-05:00

A few months back I wrote about Bronson Arroyo cheating on his wife with one of Northeastern’s finest. Well, it got noticed to say the least. Check out this month’s Boston Magazine to read all about it. Understandably, the author dumbed me down a fair amount, amplifying my conversational use of the words "like" and "dude," but I guess that is to be expected when you are reduced to sound bites. I just find it all very funny. Even though that one post got a huge amount of attention, I can promise you that the content I put up on here will remain vacuous and nonsensical. I don't actively seek gossip, but hell, if it falls into your lap you have to ring the register.

(As a side note: I saw David Wells in the supermarket last Friday. He’s a big dude and I didn’t ask for an autograph out of concern for my own safety. I thought that was cool. See? Pointless drivel, mainly… Oh, and before I forget, Bronson’s album “Covering the Bases” blows. In order for a cover song to be good the song needs to change in some way and get a unique spin put on it. You can’t just record crappy versions of already released songs. That’s just stupid; people can just listen to the original and exact exponentially greater satisfaction. That is all.)

A few quick thoughts

2005-08-24T22:34:00.000-05:00

The other day I was walking down the street and I was behind a teenage guy and his girlfriend (he was the sort of kid who rebels by wearing spiked bracelets and getting oh so unique tattoos) and they were eating marshmallows. The guy accidentally dropped one and bent down to pick it up and saw me looking in his direction, so he sort of locked eyes with me and stood up slowly and popped the marshmallow that he had dropped into his mouth with this stupid smug grin on his face. Was I supposed to be impressed? Did he think that he was proving his rebellious ways with this act? The whole scene perplexed me. I guess he was trying to blow my corporate mind. He expected me to recoil in horror and drop my monocle. Jackass.

The guy who plays Sack Lodge in Wedding Crashers has totally fucked up his career up. He was so good at being a douche bag that he will never be able to play anything other than that. It's the Dick Bag from Van Wilder syndrome. Fucked by success. Oh well, he'll always have that one gem on his resume.

Getting a manual labor job would kind of rule. You get to be out side all day. You get jacked. You never have to wear a tie. And, to top it all off, you will never be trapped by a cubicles walls. Of course, it would be manual labor. I guess I would just be excited to be able to get off my ass for a few hours so my legs don't atrophy. Fucking cubicles.

Get a job, Grouch

2005-08-18T21:00:00.000-05:00

In a city filled with apartment buildings, colleges, and Laundromats that all have coin operated washers and dryers you would think that quarters would be everywhere. People should have large sacks of quarters laying about their dwellings, stores should produce change entirely in quarters and requesting a roll of quarters should be a forgone conclusion in the affirmative. However, actually obtaining a roll of quarters is like trying to score a heart on the black market. Cashiers balk at the request and send you on your way, even bank tellers are reluctant to accommodate.
But why?
Why are quarters so difficult to come by in a fairly large city such as Boston?
This question has been haunting me for several weeks now and every time I had to feed the beast and wash my clothes my frustration with quarter procurement would be compounded. It wasn’t until my lunch break a few days ago that the answer hit me.
On State Street in Boston there is a deli called Al’s State Street Café, and hot damn is it good. For a mere $5.75 you get a 20oz soda, a 12” sub of your choice, and a bag of chips. You really can’t beat it for the price. Al’s does an obscene amount of business, so, there is a constant stream of customers leaving with a quarter in hand. One particularly savvy homeless gentleman has capitalized on this phenomenon. He sits outside Al’s and collects a quarter from about 40-50% of the patrons. That probably averages out to about $30 in quarters a day, so the answer to this quarter scarcity conundrum is clear.
This guy is hording quarters. The homeless are notoriously eccentric. It would not surprise me if this guy digs a hole in the common every night to hid his quarters that he has collected.
He probably pulls in about $150 a week from Al’s customers, and then another $50 from various other passersby (since he sits one block from Faneuil Hall there is a lot of foot traffic.) That’s 800 quarters a week, 3,200 a month, and 38,400 a year. So, this guy is tying up about $9,600 in quarters annually, putting a strain on quarter circulations that is indirectly damaging my ability to launder my clothes. He must be stopped, at all costs.

3 good songs and 1 bad one

2005-08-14T17:38:00.000-05:00

Mogwai - Hunted By a Freak
If you ever want your mind fucked for four minutes and 16 seconds this is the song for you. I'm only kidding, but it is quiet good. Also, Happy Songs for Happy People, the album that it is on, comes with a trial version of Cubase and all the tracks for Hunted By a Freak, allowing you to remix it any way you want. I probably also have an affinity towards it because it is the opening track to probably the best Mogwai album. Also, they formed in Scotland, so they must be cool.

Neutral Milk Hotel - Oh Comely
Any song that's a good three minutes longer than any other song on the album has to be good. It is consisting of lyrics, an acoustic guitar, some random brass, and awesomeness. Their self described fuzz folk is rather refreshing given the recent popular music’s hard on for bass and polished dance appeal. It's sort of like Iron and Wine on amphetamines. Real good.

The White Stripes - The Nurse
What can I say? I love me a good xylophone. It reminds me of the True Romance theme mixed with a little kickass provided by Jacks considerable guitar skills. While as a whole this album was a big time let down from Elephant, this tune entertains me.

Creed - Higher
I know that they have been broken up for a few years now but come on. Are you kidding Scott Stapp? Are you? I really hope that you are. Creed gets my vote for Worst Band Ever, and this would be the song they play during their lowlight reel. Simply awful.

Bottom of the totem pole

2005-08-07T22:24:00.000-05:00

Recently, my goal in life has become to reach a level professionally where I can have my own intern. It seems like just about the sweetest perk that any job could ever offer. It's basically like having a permanent scapegoat. You could stop working all together and blame the drop off in production on the intern. Everyone would think it was a totally viable excuse. Everyone seems to expect an intern to be mentally challenged, so the fuck ups would be almost acceptable.
In addition to the sweet work shield benefit, you also would have an unlimited entertainment source. An intern is like a coworker that you are allowed to treat like shit. You can call them a jackass, laugh in their face about their personal problems, criticize everything they do, and make them do whatever pointless crap you feel like. I can almost guarantee that everybody with an intern has given serious thought to taking a shit on their desk for a laugh. It's not every day that you can mess with someone who really has no recourse available to them.
This is really just my vindictive side. Being in a position now where I can't tell anyone, anywhere, anything with any authority makes the possibility of just shitting all over an intern intriguing to me; even though I could never actually go through with it.

Paper AND Plastic, bitch...

2005-08-01T22:24:00.000-05:00

I came upon three indisputable truths while at the grocery store today.

1. Men walk three times faster than their normal walking pace when walking past tampons or vagisil. That is just the way it is. That stuff makes men supremely uncomfortable.

2. If you need any form of medication at all, it will invariably be directly adjacent to the Imodium AD, ensuring embarrassment because disinterested third parties will observe you studying the anti-diarrhea medication shelf. To compound this embarrassment, an attractive member of the opposite sex will pass by as you are reaching towards the general area of the Imodium, leading them to believe that you are suffering from diarrhea.

3. Old ladies love coupons. They also like to use coupons for items they didn’t actually purchase, just to piss me off. Someone should kill anyone who makes a stink over 35 cents off a loaf of bread. I’m still trying to decide if it would be out of line to pay the old bag off to get out of my way, although it’s probably a principals thing in their minds.

I know my posts have not picked up since I started working, but this 9-5 thing takes some getting used to. I got some shit coming, you can count on that.

True love accepts MasterCard

2005-07-26T22:51:00.000-05:00

HBO has become synonymous with high quality and incredibly entertaining original programs. The latest in their series of reality driven offerings focuses on Dennis Hof and his crew of Hoes at the Moonlight Bunny Ranch in Mound House, Nevada. The show evolved from an American Undercover documentary entitled "Cathouse" and because America loves us some whores, HBO picked it up for a full season run. It isn't hard to imagine what happens in each episode; guys come to the ranch, pick a girl, and have a "party" all while sliced in interview bits with the girls enlighten the viewer of the ins and outs of ... well... banging.
My favorite part is when the man himself, Dennis Hof, makes broad overgeneralizations, value judgments, and other blatantly obvious statements that will leave you scratching your head as well as other parts of your anatomy. Here's a gem: "All men have bought sex. Anyone who says that they haven't is lying. Hell, I've bought sex in third world countries." Delicious, I would love to see his HIV viral load analysis. I can only speak for myself, of course, but I would be willing to bet that less than 25% of men have actually paid for sex. That is one thing I promise I will never do. First of all, why pay for it if you can get it for free? Secondly, that is a damn lot of money to pay for a momentary thrill (and by moment I mean a very long and mature moment).
Dennis has also been known to sing the praises of his ladies at the ranch with statements like: "She is a girl who loves to come." Yeah, that certainly is rare. I guess that it makes him feel better about himself. The girls aren’t doing it for the money; they are doing it because they just love to bang so much. If they didn't work at the ranch I guess they would just be huge sluts, spending countless hours with legs spread, so why not get paid for their desires of the flesh? Bravo, Dennis, for creating the ultimate workplace for loose women!

This lovely lady to the right is Isabella Soprano, one of the working girls at the Bunny Ranch. Every so often while watching the show I find myself thinking "now this is a great girl. She fun, smart, and beautiful." And then I remember that she is a whore. If these girls have anything going for them it certainly is charm. Somehow, they are able to spin their jobs in a way so that you are rooting for them. "GO ISABELLA! BANG THAT DUDE!" You’re with them at every stage of the way, pulling for a profitable and successful "party." These ladies are able to transcended their role and become an actual person rather than just an object, and there certainly is something commendable to that but at the end of the day they are still just whores.
As I write this I have realized that I have paid for sex just as Dennis claimed. In a round about way, of course, but I still have. This show is aired on HBO, which is a pay channel that I shell out 10 bucks a month for. One of the reasons that I get the station is for this show, which I extract a certain form of pleasure by watching. So, basically I am engaging in a discrete form of voyeurism. I guess I have been bested, logically, by the grand pimp Hof.

wikipedia interlude

2005-07-21T22:45:00.000-05:00

Wikipedia kicks some major fucking ass. It holds all of the information in the known universe. I spent close to 3 hours today learning about all sorts of useful information. I can now calculate horsepower and the dew point, found out more about the demographics of Illinois than anyone should care to know, and extensively researched a condition known as micropenis. Go ahead, ask it a question. It will answer it in astonishing depth. It is the greatest site in the world. You will never go without an answer again.

Some wiki cool shit:

This

And this

And this

Also, 20,000 hit bitches. Word.

The Swingline stapler doesn't bind-up as much

2005-07-17T18:18:00.000-05:00

While I have an admittedly limited experience in the working world I still consider myself somewhat of an expert on office place politics, and sociology. Whether you work in a cubical clad office or stocking crackers at a grocery store, there a several basic rules that your place of employment will invariably follow due to latent intrinsic human community needs. These rules come from the subconscious and naturally show themselves regardless of the setting. These needs result in the 6 following employees that will be in every office.

1. The surly retard: Really, could you deny a retarded person a position? They basically just need to show up clothed and they are hired. Then when they get their first taste of quasi-responsibility it goes straight to their head. Invariably, you will be talked down to by the retard or they will insist that their menial job holds the fate of the company in the balance. This is more of a source of endless unintentional comedy rather than an annoyance.

2. The office alcoholic: Inexplicably, this person made it past the interviewing process despite the fact that they leave a vapor trail of Jim Beam wherever they go. If you are in the need of a buzz at work just follow them down a hallway, you'll be on the floor. The best part about this co-worker is that you will look like an all-star by comparison.

3. The HR person: This person actually chooses to work with tax forms as a profession. Other duties include firing people, dealing with disgruntled employees, and organizing lame company events. That speaks volumes about their personality. Winners, indeed.

4. The ambiguously gay man: The definition of metrosexual. So much so, in fact, that you question his love of the ladies. He may refer to himself as a ditz, or have an unusually high voice. While you are almost certain that he has a wife and kids, you have never seen them and he never speaks of them. The only way to lay to rest the question of his sexual orientation would be it blatantly ask or to make an overt sexual advance. Both of which are unacceptable.

5. The person who probably seems like more of and asshole then he actually is: This is usually me. I just can't seem to smile back at people or to reciprocate small talk. Think of something to say that is of some value and you will see how nice I am.

6. The young lady who just can't stop talking: Apparently, some females think that their co-workers will want to know a detailed account of their weekend. I can assure you ladies, they don't. If anyone actually enjoyed your 30 minute dissertation on the bars you went to and what bouncers you know, they would ask you questions and actively participate in the conversation. The question "How was your weekend?" isn't a license to start the logorrhea, the person is looking for a one word answer. "Good."

New least favorite place:

Long Island has been over taken by the T on 100% humidity days. There is about 3 cubic feet of oxygen for the 9 billion T riders. I had to go into a a deep meditation to slow my breathing enough so that I would survive.

Umbrellas are stupid…

2005-07-11T23:17:00.000-05:00

Every time it rains I almost lose an eye. There is a sea of sharp metal spikes cruising around the city, guided by the inept with little regard for fellow sidewalk occupants. These people, who are usually woman, seem to have a knack for a certain bounce in their step that makes the spikes almost impossible to predict and avoid. It is just infuriating.
Also, umbrellas seem pretty pretentious. Is there something about your clothing or hair that makes a little water all that terrible? Probably not. Are you going to a high powered meeting where being damp will reflect negatively on you? Probably not. Are you a douche bag who is taking up more than their fair share of the public walk ways? Probably.
Besides that, there is just a general stupidity to umbrellas. First of all, rain will not hurt you. I promise. Secondly, rain is almost always accompanied by large gusts of wind, and you are holding a big fucking sail. A big gust will come by and tear your umbrella inside out and make you look like an idiot. Then, once it stops raining, you look like The Penguin for the rest of the day. All that is missing is the top hat and monocle. I suggest being a man and wearing a water repellent jacket. Either that or go all out and outfit your umbrella with a sword, machine gun, flame thrower, and bullet proof Kevlar fabric and turn to a life of crime as a maniacal super villain. Quack, quack, Excellent! Excellent!

Blahh...

2005-07-05T11:11:00.000-05:00

I realize that posts have been sporadic at best over the last several weeks, but that has mainly been due to finals at school, starting a new job, and various other real world obligations that have demanded my time. For the coming months I can foresee no obstacles to continue this sub par trend in volume of posts. That being said; oh man, I feel like shit. Summer time colds suck. Soo, this will be brief, but here comes #5 from Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs.

"
You meet your soul mate. However, there is a catch. Every three years, someone will break both of your soul mate's collarbones with a Crescent wrench, and there is only one way you can stop this from happening: You must swallow a pill that will make every song you hear-for the rest of your life-sound as if it's being performed by Alice in Chains. When you hear Creedence Clearwater Revival on the radio, it will sound (to your ears) like it's being played by Alice in Chains. If you see Radiohead live, everyone of their tunes will sound like it's being covered by Alice in Chains. When you hear a commercial jingle on TV, it will sound like Alice in Chains; if you sing to yourself in the shower, your voice will sound like deceased Alice vocalist Layne Staley performing a capella (but it will only sound this way to you). Would you swallow the pill?
"

Well, this is pretty obvious. Of course I would swallow the pill. It would take a giant asshole to pick the collarbone option, and I'm pretty sure that the soul mate would not stick around too long if he/she was constantly getting their collarbones smashed by a big fuck-off wrench.
If you really weigh out the options, swallowing the pill isn't that bad at all. Alice in Chains wasn't that terrible, and they are a hell of a lot better than some of the garbage out there. Although it would suck to never hear Radiohead, Miles, or Led Zeppelin again, you would also never again have to hear Ashley Simpson, Creed (Alter Bridge), or Good Charlotte. So that is about a wash.
Also, it would be kind of cool to sound like a strung out, scratchy voiced, badass. Even though no one else could hear myself as I would, I think I could have a lot of fun with that.
As long as it's not Scott Stapp I'm cool.

Keith Foulke. What's wrong ma' Man?

Fuel for rockin'

2005-06-27T19:47:00.000-05:00

Currently, I have eight dollars in the bank. That is not a joke. Eight. So, I have been spending the majority of my time during the break between classes and my internship (which started today) thinking of what would be the best paying/coolest/easiest/and most devoid of skill profession on the planet. And I have found it.

Television theme song composer from 1984-2000.

Think about that time span. Are you thinking about it? Is there a greater time period for television shows in the history of the world? I submit that there is not. It was like the renaissance for sitcoms. Allow me to roll through a brief list:

Saved By the Bell 1989-1993
Full House 1987-1995
Family Matters 1989-1998
Who's the Boss? 1984-1992
Step by Step 1991-1998
Punky Brewster 1984-1988
Boy Meets World 1993-2000
Perfect Strangers 1986-1993
Hangin' with Mr. Cooper 1992-1997
Growing Pains 1985-1992
My Two Dads 1987-1990
Rosanne 1988-1997
Home Improvement 1991-1999

All of these shows have one thing in common. A theme song with a generic guitar solo and some lame lyrics. I can do that. I have basically worked out how to do it too. Start with a wailing guitar riff, preferably in a major key. Launch into the lyrics with conviction. First liken the show's topic using a metaphor to a large inanimate object such as a rollercoaster or a mountain. From there, using imagery such as a winding road, a bird in flight, or a merry-go-round paint a thin picture of the trials and tribulations from which the hilarity of the show springs. Launch into another shrill and generic guitar solo and follow that with a refrain of the metaphor.
And that, my friends, is a totally decent theme song.
You have just created a cash cow that will pay dividends for years to come. Every time Nick at Nite or ABC Family plays one of these shows you will get some sweet scratch and the satisfaction of perpetuating the art of sitcoms.
I figure if you composed about half of the songs for the aforementioned sitcoms you could retire and live comfortably off the royalties. That is about 7 songs, I could knock those out in an afternoon.
Sadly, the reality show has killed the sitcom, and so too has it killed my dreams.

Hike!

2005-06-20T17:50:00.000-05:00

You know the drill. Chuck Klosterman. 23 questions. #4 Heeerreee weee goooo....

"
Genetic engineers at Johns Hopkins University announce that they have developed a so-called "super gorilla." Though the animal cannot speak, it has a sign language lexicon of over twelve thousand words, an I.Q. of almost 85, and-most notably-a vague sense of self-awareness. Oddly, the creature (who weighs seven hundred pounds) becomes fascinated by football. The gorilla aspires to play the game at its highest level and quickly develops the rudimentary skills of a defensive end. ESPN analyst Tom Jackson speculates that this gorilla would be "borderline unblockable" and would likely average six sacks a game (although Jackson concedes the beast might be susceptible to counters and misdirection plays). Meanwhile, the gorilla has made it clear he would never intentionally injure any opponent. You are the commissioner of the NFL: Would you allow this gorilla to sign with the Oakland Raiders?
"

This is a noodle scratcher.
It is almost certain that on the first down this gorilla plays he will yank someone’s arm off. Much like mentally retarded people, it is almost definite that this gorilla does not know his own strength. If you have ever been hugged by a retard then you know exactly what I am talking about.
Despite intentions, an incredibly strong and slow witted person/animal can destroy people/objects when excited with great ease. I can picture this beast giving a teammate an overzealous pat on the ass and cracking the recipient’s tailbone. Besides recording 6 sacks a game I can almost guarantee that he will also be responsible for 5 concussions, 3 dislocations, and 8 broken bones per game as a result of the gorilla’s incredible strength.
On the other hand, this would be the most fascinating thing to ever happen to football. As a "marketing gimmick" it would be a stroke of genius. People who don't even like football would watch the Raiders every Sunday to see if the gorilla kills someone. Kind of like crashes in NASCAR, these injuries will drive interest in a relatively bland Raiders squad through the roof.
As far as intelligences goes, I am willing to bet that the average I.Q. for an NFL lineman would be around 90. With the gorillas I.Q. of 85 being only slightly below that average and still above the level generally considered to be the line between retarded and normal, 70, I don't see any mental deficit hindering his play. So, the only question becomes one of safety of other players.
While this gorilla could quite possibly propel Football to become the most popular sport on earth, the players association would never let it fly. As commissioner I could care less about the over-paid players that this gorilla would injure, but in the reality of the league, this could never happen. So, as much as it disappoints me to say it, I would not let this gorilla sign based on the foregone conclusion that it would be rejected by the players association. *sigh*

#3

2005-06-13T22:59:00.000-05:00

Question number 3, comming at ya...

"

Let us assume there are two boxes on a table. In one box, there is a relatively normal turtle; in the other, Adolf Hitler's skull. You have to select one of these items for your home. If you select the turtle, you can't give it away and you have to keep it alive for two years; if either of these parameters are not met, you will be fined $999 by the state. If you select Hitler's skull, you are required to display it in a semi-prominent location in your living room for the same amount of time, although you will be paid a stipend of $120 per month for doing so. Display of the skull must be apolitical. Which option do you select?

This is an easy one. Hitler's skull, of course. If that isn't the ultimate conversation piece then I don't know what is. With this skull you will become about a million times more interesting to anyone you meet. It will become an aspect of your person. People will say "Do you know Dave? No? He's the one with Hitler's skull. Yeah that guy."
Just having it does not say anything about your feelings towards Jewish people. It is just the single most interesting and infamous skull on the planet. I would put it on my mantle illuminated with a spotlight. It certainly isn't something to bury on a shelf or something.
To top it all off, they will pay me $120 per month to display it? Icing on the cake. That equals $2880 over the course of the year. That is roughly the price of a Martin HD-28 acoustic guitar. So, I can have arguably the most interesting item in the world and one of the greatest guitars on the planet. I'm sold.
On the flip side, turtles smell, require attention, and could potentially cost me $999. That sounds like a pretty shitty deal. I'd rather bring a lady home to a ready made discussion of my one of a kind display than to a house that smells like pond scum and turtle shit any day. The only thing that could possibly sweeten the deal would be to include Stalin, Pol Pot, and Mussolini's skulls to complete my collection of the fascist monsters of the 20th century.

Maurice
2005-2005

Maurice met his death on Sunday. His mystical glue trap avoidance powers failed him. He was a worthy foe. I am honored to have known him...

The Maurice Story -> Things Just Keep Getting Better

2005-06-08T23:37:00.000-05:00

For the past three days I have been locked in an epic battle of wills with a gutsy and surprisingly intelligent mouse. I have named him Maurice and he is a worth adversary. Time and time again he evades my traps, performs incredible feats of escapism, and has reflexes that border on precognition.
The first time I spotted this incredible creature was on Monday afternoon. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a shadow pass in front of my cable box. I looked over just in time to witness little Mo "Cliffhanger" himself down to the lower level of my entertainment cabinet. As I marveled at this display of agility and coordination I knew that this was no ordinary mouse.
I started off in my homicidal efforts in a somewhat crude manner. As Maurice darted across the baseboards towards what seems to be is home base under the stove I threw my keys, an old tube of Chap Stick, my left shoe, and a pen, which all narrowly missed their mark due to the amazing reflexes that Mo possesses. It was clear to me that my anti-mouse initiative would need a vast technological improvement.
I headed for the hardware store. I considered a sledge hammer, but it would be too messy. So, I decided to get two of the most advanced mouse traps on the planet. These babies have a hair trigger, fully covered mechanisms, solid construction, and a fat "kill bar" in order to reduce decapitation. With these as my primary weapon I was supremely confident in a quick and simple end to this situation.
I had underestimated Maurice. This ballsy little bastard strolled out of his "crib" at a casual pace, as I watched with great anticipation, and entered the mother of all mouse traps. My heart dropped as a few seconds later Mo exited the trap, completely unharmed. On a later visit to the trap, Mo entered, and I threw the aforementioned Chap Stick tube at the trap, setting it off. Seconds later, a calm Mo again exited the trap and returned to his abode very much alive.
I decided to expand my arsenal of mouse killing paraphernalia. I purchased glue traps and set them in front of the apparently useless spring traps. As Mo approached the new weapon I was giddy with excitement. Only to be crushed when he gave the traps a sniff and walked around the glue trap and into his Mecca of free peanut butter. This fucker was really starting to piss me off.
The most amazing miracle that he has performed occurred as I cursed him for his savvy avoidance of my traps. Apparently, my yelling spooked him and he made a dash back the stove. On his way he ran directly over the glue trap and completely avoided getting stuck. I was baffled by this turn of events. The only reason I can think of for this astonishing feat is that Maurice is, in fact, the Mouse Messiah.
When I do succeed in vanquishing my foe he will receive a military burial. He has earned it. He is a worth adversary and I am honored to have known him.

Is there anything funnier than 5 gay men throwing out the first pitch at a baseball game? I think not. The queer guys made over some of the Red Sox recently and it was just down right hilarious. Tim Wakefield is a huge homophobe.

The guy in the pink is Carson. He tried to touch the Sox dongs like 40 times.

Number 3 comming tomorrow.

Number 2

2005-06-06T19:57:00.000-05:00

Here is the second question in Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, by Chuck Klosterman. Buy this book.

"
2. Let us assume a fully grown, completely healthy Clydesdale horse has his hooves shackled to the ground while his head is held in place with thick rope. Hes is conscious and standing upright, but completely immobile. And let us assume that-for some reason-every political prisoner on earth (as cited by Amnesty International) will be released from captivity if you can kick this horse to death in less than twenty minutes. You are allowed to wear steel-toed boots. Would you attempt this?
"

A Clydesdale is fucking huge. They are 18 hands high (6 feet) and weigh over one ton. In order to deal enough damage to kill one of these behemoths several blows to the head would be required. I cannot kick 6 feet in the air. I would have to work the body trying to crack the rebarb like ribs instead. Actually dealing enough damage to kill one ton of pure muscle would be next to impossible. Besides all of that, I could not name one of the political prisoners. I am sure that a lot of them deserve to be in jail. That doesn't really factor into the decision to not attempt this, however. I am just very sure that I would fail. And that would leave a massively pissed off horse and a bunch of dudes still in jail.
Should the same question be posed but it gave me the aid of some sort of blade, or a baseball bat I would attempt it. I guess it really comes down to if you value one or many. I'll take humans over animals any day.

hypothetical interlude

2005-05-31T21:30:00.000-05:00

In Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, Chuck Klosterman lists twenty-three questions that he asks everybody he meets in order to decide if he can really love them. They all deal in hypotheticals and are wildly creative and thought provoking. I have decided to answer all twenty-three over the next few weeks in anticipation of the release of his next book Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story, it comes out on June 28th.

"
1. Let us assume you met a rudimentary magician. Let us assume he can do five simple tricks-he can pull a rabbit out of his hat, he can make a coin disappear, he can turn the ace of spades into the joker card, and two others in a similar vein. These are his only tricks and he can't learn anymore; he can only do these five. HOWEVER, it turns out he's doing these five tricks with real magic. It's not an illusion; he can actually conjure the bunny out of the ether and he can move the coin through space. He's legitimately magical, but extremely limited in scope and influence. Would this person be more impressive than Albert Einstein?
"

Albert Einstein was a genius; there is no question about that. He certainly contributed more to mankind than this magician ever could. However, there is genius everywhere. It seems to me that with the great abundance of brilliance in the field science Einstein's work and theories would have been duplicated eventually. Real magic though? That is something that has never been done in the history of the world and would probably never be done again. Despite the basic nature of the magic the magician can perform it's still fucking magic. People have been talking about magic and pretending to be real magicians for thousands of years. I'm sure that 95% of the population wouldn't understand the photoelectric effect, but everyone can appreciate genuine magic. No little kids fantasize about being a physicist, they want to have magical powers.
When questioned on what Albert Einstein contributed to the world of science, most people would probably say "E=MC2" with out any ability to explain the equation or why it was important. What most people don't know is that Einstein was not the originator of this formula, Olinto De Pretto was, Einstein merely popularized the equation and its importance in a paper published 2 years after De Pretto's.
The vast majority of Einstein's mystique is a function of great PR. Actual magical ability is the stuff of legends.

Is Dave going to have to choke a bitch?

2005-05-27T23:38:00.000-05:00

This is Dave pissed off. If you could see my face and hand gestures right now you would realize the level of my anger. This is probably one of the greatest transgressions that the blogging world has ever seen. It is one thing to blather incoherently about lame shit that no one cares about, but it is quiet another to steal the masterpieces of a fellow blogger. The bitch you see to the left is Jessica Lynne. She has a blog on Blogger listed at http://jessilynne.blogspot.com/ and she is a dirty, dirty, whore. Two of my previous posts, "Walking down this road that we call life" and "You can’t eat the same soup everyday Mr. Man," were totally ripped off by this hoe with zero credit being paid to me*. I realize the genius in both postings is apparent and I fully understand the envy that most must feel when they can’t measure up, but that does not justify plagiarism! She even edited some of the content to take into account the fact that it was suppose to be being written by a girl. The most egregious of these changes comes with the omission of #9* on the list of "9 Reasons Why Boy Meets World Kicked Ass."
Jessica list the criteria for a loser as this (Keep in mind that I corrected numerous typographical errors.): "stupidity, lack of personality, getting *thwacked* by the ugly stick, lack of monetary assets, whore like tendencies, lack of companionship/attention from the opposite sex, ownership of pocket protectors, compulsive lying...or a combination of at least three." Well Jessica, I have your count holding strong at 5 without any knowledge of your monetary status. Let's take an inventory of your qualities that make you a loser.
You certainly lack creativity, and that combined with your poor spelling and grammatical skills almost guarantee your stupidity. Also, you didn't know why "the red eye" was called "the red eye" until a few weeks ago, that's not acceptable for a high school senior.
In blogging most people's personality shines through in their writing. You stole my work and the other stuff, that I assume is your own, is very bland and/or awful. So based on those factors, your probably about as much fun to talk to as a wall. I'd give you about a 9.5 on the scale of obnoxious, boring whores.
This leads to the next point: Whore like tendencies. If your 80's bangs say anything it's "I go down easy." You have already proved a portion of your values are sub par, so I can only assume that the rest also fall into that category. I can't see any way you could be anything other than a gigantic whore. So that is 3 strikes, already into the loser zone.
You didn't go to your prom. Now it has been a few years since my high school days but I do believe that the prom is the coupling event of the year. Even gay kids can find someone of the opposite sex to go with. And yet, you sat at home, alone, offering no justification for your dateless status. The only reasoning I can see for this is your personality and whore like tendencies (see above.) The guys in your class probably were so repulsed by your bevy of venereal diseases and so bored by your personality that the thought of asking you never even entered their minds. So, as it stands now you are stupid, with no personality and whore like tendencies, and completely un-dateable.
And, of course, there is the compulsive lying. Well that is pretty self-explanatory, it's basically the reason for all of this, now isn't it?
According to your criteria, you are a huge loser. How about you do a little thinking for yourself, cut down on the hummers under the bleachers at lunch, and stop ripping me off! You are a cunt Jessica, a big fucking cunt.

"I do mind, the Dude minds. This will not stand, ya know, this aggression will not stand, man."

*Big props to Crazy Like A Fox for her tip on this thievery. You have proved your greatness and have earned a spot under my links. I am in your debt.

*9. Topanga is hot.

Championships are like crack

2005-05-27T02:10:00.000-05:00

Although I am not a supporter of the championship "grace period" theory, Mike raises some interesting points about all the lunatics out there in Red Sox Nation.

Any Boston sports fan knows that when in need of a late night fix, particularly after a Sox game, there is only one place to go, and that’s to Ted Nation on WEEI850. This used to be a nightly ritual for me after a Sox game. Although I have never myself called in, I felt like Bob from Medford was a close personal friend. These delightful people spent the night complaining about anything and everything about the Sox. Even on nights when Pedro would throw a 3-hitter with 10 Ks in a 4-0 Sox victory, some fans still felt the need to wonder aloud about why the Sox traded Jeff Bagwell for Larry Anderson in 1990. Ted Sarandis, the incredible host of the show, would often get angry at these people for their perpetual negativity, but he would never get too upset because until this passed October the Red Sox had not won the World Series for a dreadful 86 years and Red Sox Nation was bitter and rightfully so. Red Sox fans were entitled to dispense endless amounts of criticism because they had suffered through the terrible nightmares of Bucky, Buckner, Boone, and, of course, The Babe. Every Red Sox player, coach, and executive was fair game for the abuse of sports talk radio, and it was all justified.

But that all changed on October 28, 2004.

A Mo Vaughn sized monkey had been lifted from the back of every person who had ever been affiliated with the Red Sox organization for the last 86 years as soon as Foulke tossed the ball to Mientkiewicz (honestly, what Red Sox fan wasn’t worried that Foulke was going chuck the ball into the seats leading to a 9th inning Cardinals rally?)
Anyways, for the first time of the 2005 season I tuned on Ted Nation after a disappointing loss to the mediocre Blue Jays. However, I was not expecting to hear the usual harshness that Sox fans usually dish out on these shows. I thought that even the notoriously bitter Sox fans could cut these guys some slack, since the demons of 1918 were excised. But, unfortunately, I was wrong. The callers seemed to have forgotten that the Red Sox won the World Series a mere 7 months ago and insisted on nitpicking about why Francona brought in Embree instead of Foulke or why Renteria can’t seem to hit or why Manny insists on wearing a diving cap under his hat. Somehow, I think that a measly loss to the Blue Jays in May will not affect the Red Sox playoff hopes. These people need to sit back and enjoy the Red Sox victory for at least a season, and also realize that this team did what many thought was impossible. Tito and the rest of the gang will need the break, because we all know that it will last about as long as Derek Jeter in his Friday night suck and fuck fest with his fabulous friends Alex and Jorge.

--Mike "The Game" Kleinman

Hey man, up top

2005-05-24T23:49:00.000-05:00

Usually, upon greeting another male there is an awkward palmular connection that never really goes very smoothly. Occasionally the contact is in the form of a handshake, sometimes it's a soul clap, rarely it's a soul clap with a half hug, it also can be a fist bump, or a half slap and hold. The majority of the awkwardness comes in the confusion between which style the initiator is intending. The relative similarity between the styles usually leads to a poor connection between hands and a general feeling of failure.
Handshakes originated when knights would greet each other and extend a hand to show that they were unarmed. Present day men are rarely armed which should have eliminated the need to prove their intentions with a shake, but the tradition has lived on.
I have about five really good friends from high school; combined, I have probably shook hands with them three or four times. This is a very good thing considering that some of them have questionable hygiene habits. I guess this is part of the reason that casual handshakes seem so odd to me. I have never felt the need to make extended physical contact with a male upon a greeting. I'm not implying that those who do have some sort of latent homosexual feelings, but it is a bit odd.
Even though it is an annoying encroachment on personal space when a male extends a hand it is not a question of me not wanting to be touched, if a female felt the need to embrace me upon greeting that would be agreeable. It is more a function of a desire to avoid awkwardness.
Rather than a handshake I recommend a high five. Some people call it top popping, some call it a high hat, and still others refer to it as a sweet slap, but no matter what you call it a few things hold true. It's a quick and non-intimate exclamation of joy; it produces a heart warming sound, and is simple to execute. So next time someone extends a hand, tell them to bring it up top.

Note - For anyone living in the Boston area, I will be building an ark. If you would like salvation from the biblical floods we are experiencing, contact me.

You can't eat the same soup everyday Mr. Man

2005-05-19T01:41:00.000-05:00

Unless it's Chowda...

Six things I could live without...

1. The words "ginormous" and "guesstimate." These are not real words. You can't just smash two words together to further emphasize a point. Especially two words that mean the same thing. Ginormous is gigantic combined with enormous, however, they mean the same thing so it's really rather redundant. And guesstimate just makes you sound like a moron. Stewie is with me on this one, and he knows what it takes to be cool.

2. Carson Daly. I don't know if he thinks that being the anti-late night talk show is charming or something but it is just down right awful. The vast majority of his ratings are from people who fall asleep after COB and the rest are insomniacs like me who can't take another infomercial. If you ever happen to be awake at 1:30 and are left with nothing to do, turn on Carson, then kill yourself.

3. The fact that the TSA has approved "The Guardian" for airline passengers but they still take away my nail clippers. I'm pretty sure that no one has ever hijacked a plane by manicuring his way into the cockpit. This "Guardian" thing is like a pair of brass knuckles combined with a plastic spike for stabbing goodness. The logic of airport safety is beyond me.

4. The people who insist on using the largest words possible in order to appear to be more intelligent than they really are drive me crazy. Unless your last name is Vidal, Faulkner, or Vonnegut you probably don't possess the linguistic ability to eloquently convey your thoughts through big words. Let's leave the wordsmithing to the pros. As the late Mitch Hedberg said about turkeys, "Hey man, just be yourself."

5. Scratch tickets, the lotto, and slot machines. Yeah, occasionally people win big and are set for life; the other 25 million players are losers. Playing the lotto is like playing dice with a billion sided die, it is almost impossible to win. And, of course, the majority of the players are the people who can't afford to play. So they waste money on tickets, or in slots, instead of saving and actually bettering their life. Keeping the poor poor. What a fantastic system.

6. Girls dressing up small dogs like little dolls. If these dogs had opposable thumbs they would have killed themselves long ago. Dogs have fur for a reason, they do not need clothes. If these dogs went to a dog park they would get their asses kicked by all the cool dogs. Also, if you have a male dog, you are severely hampering his chances to hook-up with any cute ladies. Give your poor dog back a scrap of dignity, its bad enough that he has to be seen with you in your Uggs. Are you stocking a herd of buffalo? Must you tread lightly so as not to spook the herd? If so, good luck in your hunt of the sacred beast.

Tomorrow I won't be negative, I promise.

Note: If you have the chance to catch Ryan Adams I would highly recommend it. He plays for like 3 hours and its all gold. Pun intended.

This one is an oldie, well; it's an oldie where I come from... Ok, this is a blues riff in B, watch me for the changes and try to keep up...

For the love of the fame

2005-05-16T15:54:00.000-05:00

With the Sports Guy on hiatus I thought it would be fitting to inject some sports related blather on here. Recently, Rasheed Wallace guaranteed victory for the Pistons over the Pacers in the interminable NBA playoffs. He was proven correct in his guarantee but it nevertheless elicited a response from the ever opinionated Mike Kleinman.

In Super Bowl III, Quarterback Joe Namath guaranteed victory over the heavily favored Baltimore Colts. Namath was correct in his guarantee, as his J-E-T-S Jets Jets Jets went on to defeat the Colts in one of the greatest games in NFL history. This guarantee landed Namath in athletic lore for his bold prediction, and Namath parlayed this into a questionable Hall of Fame induction, a sensual pantyhose commercial, and a nationally televised drunken sexual advance on a female reporter. However, the most infamous result of "Broadway Joe's" guarantee is the now commonplace prediction of victory by arrogant athletes.
In reality, these guarantees are useless and extremely annoying. It is the goal of the athlete for either him or his team to win. Teams spend millions of dollars on these athletes to come as close to a guaranteed victory as possible. No athlete with any respectability seeks to lose. So, technically, every athlete prior to a game should be guaranteeing to himself that he is going to win. An athlete who does not, that goes into a game thinking he or his team will lose, is a loser and does not have a long future in athletics.
Therefore, to go ahead and proclaim to the media what you and every other athlete should already be thinking is foolish and immature. These guarantees only serve as additional incentive to the opposing team and a highly visible chance to look like an idiot. Even if the athlete is successful in his or her guarantee it does not make him or her any more likeable or impressive of an athlete. Winning is what they are paid the big bucks to do, and correctly predicting the outcome is hardly a commendable feat. And if the athlete is wrong then he or she will look like a bigger idiot than Terrell Owens negotiating a contract. My advice: If you are an athlete with a big game coming up, let your performance do the talking and leave the predictions to the morons on the pre-game show.

--Mike "The Game" Kleinman

As small as dust

2005-05-13T18:28:00.000-05:00

Every so often as I am walking around and my mind is wandering through random thoughts and I see other people walking around I realize that they have their own lives, and know probably hundreds of people that I don't. Then I think, Oh damn, their going to die someday. Then I think, Shit, I am going to die someday. After that I start to think about how many people there are on the planet. 6,441,360,260. I know very few of them. Then I start to think of all the things that have happened on Earth in the last 65 million year. Probably a sign of the divine, maybe the biggest coincidence ever.
But if it was some creation of God and he also created all of the other planets and galaxies and stars, then there must be other life somewhere in space. It must be sort of like The Sims. I created like 4 or 5 families when playing The Sims, so God must have done the same (since I am made in his image). There is always the family that resembles your own, which of course would be Earth. He sent JC here to hang and everything. Then there is the family that you fuck with. Make them follow the life of crime path, not shower, and constantly try to kiss the lady who wonders around in the slinky red dress. The type of sadistic stuff that you would do in real life if you were free of morals and the basic limitations of having to exist in society. So God probably has a planet much like Earth only with 10 times the war and debauchery.
Then there are all of the miscellaneous planets he created. And I start thinking that maybe there is some alien on one of them who is pondering the cosmos. Maybe he is thinking about his relative insignificance. Maybe he’s walking to work at some local store selling some type of electronics. It's not that he doesn’t have a dream; he wants to go back to school and study art. He didn't really have his act together in high school. His sister had always kind of overshadowed him so he rebelled and underachieved in a family of overachievers. Last summer he had a chance encounter with an old man on a trip back home to see his girlfriend. The old man put his life into perspective and made him realize how much there is to life.
And then I take one of those steps where the pavement meets your foot sooner than you expect and I'm immediately brought back to reality with the beautiful humiliation that only a stumble can provide.

The OC has crossed the line between entertainingly ridiculous and completely unrealistic. People are yelling "GET DOWN!! HES GOT A GUN!!" there is an alcoholic mom, meetings with George Lucas, old millionaires are dying from heart attacks 2 days before filing for divorce, and dudes are trying to rape their brother’s girlfriend. Yeah, for some reason I just can't relate anymore. Its soap opera set in high school now. Next weeks season finale will certainly be ridiculous with plenty of cliffhangers and most are probably not going to make sense or be grounded in reality. At least we can look forward to the entirely realistic college when all of the kids go to the same college in order to allow their escapades to continue.

People, people

2005-05-10T15:55:00.000-05:00

I just can't seem to give my peers a break. College kids have become the most infuriating demographic imaginable. Popped collars, semi-clever T-shirts costing more than a Kia, and fake concern for society have all got to go.
Today, in my Race and Ethnicity class, several of my classmates described themselves as "Humanists" and when asked what race they identified with they said "the human race." Give me a fucking break. You're not fooling anyone. No one is color blind as they claim to be and they certainly don't give a shit about others. If they did they wouldn't pour thousand of bucks into their ridiculously stupid wardrobe, it would be going to the less fortunate, and they wouldn't cruise around in their gas guzzling fuck-you-mobiles, they would drive a Prius to save the planet. I guess activism is easy to talk about, but following through is a little more difficult.
As I have said before, it's all about image. This is why kindergarten through about 4th grade kicks ass. All the kids have one goal, having fun. This is because, of course, they have not hit puberty yet. Hormones ruin individuality. After puberty people start trying to impress the opposite sex (or the same sex if you swing that way). So then people adopt the uniform of the times and the identity of the desirable people and stop being themselves. This is why unique people become so appealing. As amazing as it is, sometimes that means conservatives or a wardrobe from the Gap. So please, be yourself, people will like you as long as you are not an asshole. Maybe we need to start playing dodge ball and having nap time again.

As a side note, Dave Matthews Band just came out with a new album and it's real weak. How the mighty have fallen.

Wondering down this road that we call life

2005-05-03T23:04:00.000-05:00

9 Reasons Why Boy Meets World Kicked Ass

1. Eric Matthews - In my opinion he was the most likeable character in television history. He was dumb and sarcastic without being corny. He was the type of character you could identify with on some odd level while still being able to laugh at him. Stupid people usually annoy me but Eric was a charming brand of stupid that made it impossible not to like him. "Merry Halloween Mr. Feeney."

2. Harley Keiner - Probably the only bully in television history to threaten murder and actually mean it. He was kind of like a mix of the Fonz and Scarface. He broke out of juvie in a laundry basket, had a smokin' hot sister, and ran his crew of thugs like a Fortune 500 company (He surrounded himself with the best and delegated responsibility). It's these nuances to the character that makes it both believable and entertaining. The Boy Meets World writers were masters of the back story.

3. We got to see the entire public school experience. Elementary school to middle to high school to college; Cory and Shawn's high jinks transcended the world of academia. As an added bonus we got to see Topanga go from weird to normal to hot to a whip crackin' fiancé. And of course, Mr. Feeney stayed exactly the same, as all teachers do, despite the fact that he switched jobs 5 times and inexplicably became a college professor by way of elementary history. Sitcoms don't need to make sense.

4. Everyone got some ass. Even Mr. Feeney eventually bangs the Dean of Pennbrook College. Alan and Amy Matthews exhibit the Huxtable Syndrome, Eric and Shawn are just straight up pimps; Jonathan Turner is the perfect mix of badass and sensitive that the ladies love, and Cory and Topanga get freaky in Hawaii. Word.

5. The actress playing the daughter Morgan changes twice and it's almost imperceptible due to the fact that no one gives a shit about her and she has like one line per show.

6. Shawn is from a trailer park and the Matthews boys' father is a manager at a supermarket, yet they all attend an expensive private college with zero discussion of cost. Along the same lines, Shawn almost doesn't graduate from high school yet is inexplicably attending the same college as Topanga, who could have gone to Yale. Ahh, the magic of television.

7. Minkus, Shawn's nemesis and the basic nerdy suck-up from the elementary days returns in the high school graduation episode. Sitcoms often pretend that the past didn't happen, but Boy Meets World embraced its roots. Minkus helped build the show, and got his props, deservedly so. The best episode is when he figures out the secret to time travel while trying to solve the two men washing a car word problem.

8. Frankie Stechino - His dad was the pro wrestler Vader, he wrote poetry, was 300+ lbs, stole Harley Keiner’s girlfriend, and routinely required the aid of Cory and Shawn in a Cyrano capacity. Coolest thug ever.

9. Topanga is hot.

I love Celtic playoff basketball, but the FSN commentators are garbage. It's the same shit you would hear from Mickey and Jimmy in a bar in Southie. When the C's are behind and someone scores all they say is "That’s what they gotta do." Oh really? Score points? Is that what wins games? It's like John Madden with a Boston accent.

You're so cool

2005-05-01T21:20:00.000-05:00

When I was in 3rd grade I knew a 5th grader who gave the finger to the camera in his class picture. It was just about the funniest thing I had seen in my 9 years of being. It seems that the majority of college males are just now reaching that level of maturity.
I haven't seen one set of photos in the past 3 years that hasn’t included some jackass flipping off the camera with a stupid self satisfied grin that comes from raging immaturity paired with a moronic sense of humor. Do these losers actually think that it is still funny or cool to flip off the camera? Of course they couldn’t possibly, no one, no matter their IQ, would.
In reality, they are really just incredibly lame and self-conscious. They see someone about to take a picture and panic. "Oh shit, what do I do? I can't just smile, they'll see through that. Ok I need something that makes me look like a badass (girls love a badass), but won't require any real badass behavior because I'm a huge pussy. I've got it!"
I can't wait till I'm old enough to not be associated with these people. If anyone who actively flips off the camera can give me any reason as to why they do it, I will be very interested to here it. Since there is no point, how about you keep your fingers down?
The only time the finger may actually be warranted would be in the car, in order to show displeasure to your fellow motorist with out words. However, this ineffectual display usually elicits little to no response from me besides a slight chuckle.
I do believe that the finger has run its course much like the phrase "bling bling" or trucker hats. It is time to retire this gesture.

Well, good luck with all ...that...

2005-04-29T18:52:00.000-05:00

I'm not even sure what to say about this young gent. I guess the only thing I can say is that he is by far the most homosexual guy on the face of the planet. For anyone who thinks that gay people can be counseled out of their gayness, go to his site. He is the case and point for people being born this way. No one could pull this level of gay off if they were just confused.
No matter your views on homosexuality, I'm sure we can all agree that this site is a jaw dropping display of materialism. Who would put their FICO scores online, or give a detailed list of their credit limits? Bryanboy would. This self proclaimed "bitch" is such a gold mine of unintentional comedy that people just need to go to the site and be blown away for themselves.

http://bryanboy.typepad.com/

I almost posted about 700 words on Step by Step, but I figured that the sitcoms needed a break for a while. However, Cody is by far the funniest wife beater in history.

This is the best elevator music I've ever heard...

2005-04-27T15:10:00.000-05:00

The Cosby Show was one of the greatest sitcoms ever. The reason it was so great is the blatant sexual energy between Cliff and Claire. These two would have at least one sexual encounter per episode which usually started with some kick ass innuendos involving a sandwich or a party and would end with them racing up stairs to a cheering audience, or diving under the covers followed by a credits role. You have to love the middle aged stars sexing it up.
The only sitcom that comes close to The Cosby Show in this sort of sexuality is Full House, due to the sex machine nature of Uncle Jesse, but the overall effect is muted due to the constant catch phrases. Such as, "How rude!" or "Cut, It, Out" or "Have Mercy!" If Uncle Jesse was a real life character I'm betting that he would have herpes, and possibly the clap.

Then there was Joey, who would probably be more comfortable at the Neverland Ranch, he creeps me out. No adult male should love cartoons THAT much.

I miss the glory days of TV. Bring the sex back to the family shows!

I was starting to think that I was taking crazy pills, due to the comments people have posted on Vlogmania. Luckily, I stumbled upon this gem. Go there. It's high quality.

http://blgd.blogspot.com/

5 Good Minutes

2005-04-21T10:27:00.000-05:00

HBO needs to seriously review it's method for selecting a program line-up. Last night this was the flow: Love Actually > G-String Divas > Die Hard with a Vengeance. That doesn’t really "work." Sappy British romantic comedy, trashy American porn documentary, one of the greatest action movies of all time. I guess all of them appealed to certain parts of my brain and kept me entertained, but really, what market were they targeting this programming block at? The 21-25 year old male, who happens to be watching TV at 2am and also happens to find English accents captivating? I don't think there are many of us.

5 Ways the Mad Vlogger can stop sucking so badly

1. Massive plastic surgery followed by a complete fashion make over. I mean like a complete over haul. The doctor needs to get in there with a laser, hack saw, rock hammer, blow torch, back hoe... you get the point... and just completely start from scratch. Let him build you a new face, one that doesn’t cause the view to claw at their eyes in horror.
This would also help the content of the site. Misdirection is the most classic of magician’s tools, and you would be wise to implement it. As it is now, due to your appearance, the audience is forced to listen to your painfully boring and unimaginative bullshit intently, however, if the audience was given something nicer to look at, they would listen less and enjoyment would go up.

2. Read Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs immediately. You have some serious problems in both topic selection and insight. Read this book and learn from the greatest Pop-culture commentator of all time, Chuck Klosterman. Study the connections he makes and the subtleties that he sheds light on. All you do is tell the audience the most obvious and painfully boring shit about the topic possible, offering nothing to think about later. You need to bring something new to the table.

3. Watch Eddie Izzard: Dressed to Kill. Try to learn a cadence and inflection pattern other that that of a B rate news reporter. Eddie Izzard is a British transvestite comedian who is probably the funniest man on Earth. He captivates audiences with his rhetoric.

4. Stop reading off a prompter. The entries would have far more style and be much more interesting if you simply let a natural conversation like flow happen. As it is now, we can see your eyes moving over the prompter and everything is VERY dry.

5. Stop. Just stop. I know you’ll never change. Your “vlog” is awful and it brings down the whole concept of blogging several levels. My biggest pet peeve is mediocrity masquerading as brilliance. You are most certainly mediocre. Bitch.

Stop Going So Wild

2005-04-18T03:06:00.000-05:00

Tired of seeing hot young college girls willing to bear it all? Of course your not!

If you have ever watched Comedy Central after midnight you have undoubtedly seen one of the plethora of Girls Gone Wild commercials. It may seem like lie, or like a ploy to make myself look like a better person, but I just don’t understand why these videos sell so well. It’s kind of like going to a strip club. Guys pay all of this money to see something that you can see for free on any movie channel late at night, and are left with nothing when it’s over. Most of it seems pretty boring, but most of my peers seem to think that it’s the hottest stuff around. These guys probably could even get some actual physical affection from a real life lady if they would take a shower and show her a good time. Instead, they do this; they keep buying these videos, calling for more and more to be produced.
This leads to the most annoying phenomenon that these videos have brought about. This of course is the new ultra slutty breed of college girls. Everyone knows several of these ladies. The type of girl who thinks that after you take a shot you must let out a loud “Woooo!” and then proceeds to make out with her roommate. The type of girl who is so desperately seeking male attention that they will degrade themselves by showing what they got for some plastic beads or maybe even less. These girls have so diluted the pool of quality college girls that the typical college guy must redefine what he is looking for in a lady.
Apparently, we are suppose to like girls with their thongs showing, wearing a shirt that’s about 3 sizes too small, and who dances like a stripper, also it helps if for some unknown reason they enjoy being thought of as a whore. And we do this because it is what we are told we are supposed to like. This goes hand in hand with why the girls act this way to being with, they think that that is what we like too. Girls see this image of the “college girl” and think that this is the only way to either get a guy or get attention from a guy. So they become this super aggressive whore as seen on TV.
The stereotype for college kids today seems to be the obnoxious frat boy who sleeps with the maximum amount of skanky eager to please ladies as possible, and the Girl Gone Wild. These are usually far from the truth. If most guys would be honest about it, I’m positive that the vast majority would pick a nice girlfriend over a slutty encounter any day of the week. The same almost certainly goes for the ladies as well. From what I’ve learned from my sources on the inside, most girls have just been waiting for guys to stop acting like such clueless morons. Maybe all that they want is a little polite attention and some visible affection. Besides, no one wants their first words to their future spouse to be “show your tits!”
Although, that would be quiet the story for the grandkids. “Well, you see Granddad had just done 3 shots of jager and I was blowing his fraternity brother in the bathroom. When I came out he and some of the other brothers started chanting for me to show my tits, so I did. And after that we fell in love.” Awww, Grandma, that’s … disgusting.

Controlled Euphoria

2005-04-08T11:41:00.000-05:00

Now I’m not saying that the Red Sox World Series win wasn’t amazing, which it was, and I’m not saying that I don’t randomly start smiling at the mere thought of last season, which I do, but all of my Red Sox wounds were not healed with one championship.

Growing up as a Red Sox fan is like having a knife permanently stabbed into your stomach. Every few seasons the Sox would pretend to pull it out but they would end up just twisting it, creating a bigger wound. This was the burden we bared for the love of the team. Finally, last season the knife was removed, but the wound still hasn’t healed. We’ve been stitched up and the bleeding has stopped, but there is still a huge sore spot.

Basically, I have developed a complex about losing. The only thing I can think of is the potential for another 86 year drought. What if that was the only World Series that the Sox will win in my life time? That scares me half to death.

And all of these people began saying Bill Buckner has been forgiven, no more Aaron Fucking Boone, Bucky Dent is forever forgotten, and the “Curse” has been put to bed. I beg to differ. Did the past suddenly not happen? Did Bill Buckner not let a routine grounder go through his legs? Did the worst hitter on the 1978 Yankees not hit the laziest homer in the history of Fenway? Is Aaron Boone not a douche bag? No. All of this happened and it all is burned into our collective memory, let’s not deny the trauma that we have endured.

If everyone was as awesome as I am then these notorious characters would have killed themselves by now, helping heal the nation. In kindergarten Kristen Buckner, Bill’s daughter was in my class. One day he came to talk to the class and proceeded to field questions at the end. Most of the kids asked dumb ass questions like “Do you like playing Baseball?” or “Are you going to win tonight?” Leave it to me to ask the important shit. I raised my hand, was called on, and stood up. I asked in a loud clear voice, “How did it feel when the ground ball went through your legs in the World Series?” Later that day Bill was released from the Sox. Probably the shittest day of his life. Released from a professional baseball team, and grilled by a 6 year old.

The class later wrote thank you notes to him for talking to us. This is word for word the opening line of my letter. “Dear Mr. Buckner, I am sorry you got kicked off the team.” I rule.

I spent the next 4 years harassing Kristen to no end. Later the Buckners moved to Idaho, or some other shit state, and Bill said in an interview with ESPN that one of the main reasons for the move was the harassment that his daughter had to endure in Massachusetts. Gladly, I take full responsibility for her misery.

The World Series win was no doubt amazing, but let’s buckle down and keep the superstitions cranking. I have a feeling that the Red Sox will always need all the help that they can get.

Side note: Mike Kleinman thinks that David Wells will win 15 games. He’s fucking crazy. Wells sucks.

Crazy Kids With Their Crazy... VD

2005-04-03T23:08:00.000-05:00

As most professional athletes probably do, Bronson Arroyo, of the 2004 World Series Champion Boston Red Sox has taken a hoe. He's in a relationship with a young lady from Northeastern University in Boston. This young lass has even gone so far as to create a group on The Facebook* for girlfriends of Red Sox players. Along with this, she also has numerous pictures with Bronson posted in an online photo album. I applauded Bronson for taking advantage of his celebrity and living it up while he still can.

The problem with all of this of course is that Bronson is in fact married.

Yep, Bronson is married, and has been for several years now actually. Her name is Aimee and she is the love of his life. Where have all the role models gone? That's great though Bronson. She has only stuck by you through those shaky minor league days, when you didn't know if you'd ever make it. When you were sore and tired, she was there to encourage you, and rub your back. She's your biggest fan. But it's cool. Bang your hoes, and forget your wife, that's the classy thing to do. Hats off to you Ma Man!

*The Facebook is an online student directory that allows users to create profiles and connect to other students through groups for common interests, and through mutual accepted friendship requests.

The Karma of Being Awesome

2005-04-02T14:19:00.000-05:00

The last few weeks have been great. Everything has been going well and I have just been really happy. Little did I know that I could achieve heights far greater. Yesterday I was thrown into a euphoric state only experienced by those who have reached nirvana through years of meditation. I was mentioned on vlogmania.com. I was so excited by the post that I was forced to express my joy through a 2 hour long harmonica solo.
Recently I have left a few comments for this douche bag pointing out his lameness and general stupidity. Apparently he felt the need to comment on my comments in his latest vlog. This thrilled me to no end.
My favorite part was when he referred to me as an "angry young man." Those of you who know me know how false this statement is. I'm actually just ultra critical and intolerant of stupidity. As I wrote a few days ago, there is nothing better than the evidence that a criticism hit home, and what better proof than vlog complete with screen shots?
It's true that I can't stay away from his site though. How can I? His vlogs are so incredibly bad and stupid that they are hilarious. The sports guy would call it unintentional comedy.
I have created a whole world in my mind that mad vlogger lives in. He gets up around 9a.m; right after his wife leaves for work, and eats Captain Crunch in his pj's while sitting on his ugly sectional couch watching re-runs of Wings. From there he gets down to business. He shuffles to his back office and begins crafting his latest masterpiece. Could it be a scathing review of the new Coke with lime? Or maybe a hilarious journey through the mind of a closeted homosexual, middle-aged man? Regardless of the topic one thing is for certain, the world will be waiting on pins and needles to see it. After the post has been made he will quickly prepare for work and leave no later than 4p.m. so as to be sure to avoid his wife returning home.
He returns home from work sometime after midnight, and is sure to enter silently to avoid the wrath of a wife awoken from sleep. He slips into bed and falls asleep, but his wife is awake. She’s staring at the ceiling, wondering how she got here. She hears the words of her mother rattling through her head over and over, "You need a better provider." "Leave him, he's a loser." She then cries her self to sleep silently, as she has every night since the disappointing wedding night.

On Saturdays they go out to the Olive Garden, or possibly Bennigan's. After a reasonably priced dinner with little conversation or even acknowledgment of the others presences they will return home. The lights will be turned off and the Boyz II Men CD will be put on. During their passionless missionary position sexual congress, the words of her friends start to fill her head. She questions everything about her life.
He feels like a man for those few short minutes. Powerful, and in control. He keeps saying to himself, "I'm the Mad Vlogger. I'm the MAN. YEAH BABY!" He feels his Cindy Crawford mole giving him power. When it is all finished, he lies in silent satisfaction, feeling like a God. His wife falls asleep unsatisfied.

I wish I could write half of what I have going through my mind. The unedited version of this entry is so incredibly ridiculous I can’t even believe it came from me. In my mind I am the puppet master and he is my marionette. When you willingly publish yourself on the internet you open yourself you to ridicule. I just can’t let someone so ripe for criticisms go untouched.

Also, I fail to see how getting hits for a misspelled name is karma. Wouldn’t karma be if my site crashed or some other unfortunate event happened to me? Just another example of how lame and stupid that site is.

Is it just me or does the lead singer from the Hot Hot Heat look exactly like Carrot Top? Also, why did it take them so long to come out with their second album? The first was only 30 mins long, is it that hard to write 12 or so below average pop songs?

My Lucky Number is 4 Billion

2005-03-31T22:25:00.000-05:00

Well, first it was Hunter S. Thompson and now it's Mitch Hedberg. 2005 has not been kind to my idols. Mitch died today in his New Jersey hotel room from a heart attack. For those of you who don't know, Mitch was famous for incredibly deadpan one-liners. He was the quintessential hippie and never was on stage without his sun glasses and long hair obscuring half of his face. I only wish I could have seen him while he was still alive. Here are some of his fantastic jokes...

I haven't slept for ten days, because that would be too long.

I wish I could play little league now. I'd kick some fuckin' ass.

I would imagine if you understood Morse Code, a tap dancer would drive you crazy.

I like playing golf....I've never got a hole in one, but I did hit a guy and that's way more satisfying. You’re supposed to yell FORE, but I was too busy mumbling that ain't no way that's gonna hit him.

I wrote a letter to my dad- I wrote, I really enjoy being here. But I accidentally wrote rarely, instead of really. But I still wanted to use it, so I crossed it out and wrote I rarely drive steamboats, Dad. There's a lot you don't know about me. Quit trying to act like I'm a steamboat operator. This letter took a harsh turn right away.

And then at the end of the letter I like to write P.S.- This is what part of the alphabet would look like if Q and R were eliminated.

The depressing thing about tennis is that no matter how much I play, I'll never be as good as a wall. I played a wall once. They're relentless.

When someone hands you a flyer, it's like they're saying here you throw this away.

I like rice. Rice is great if you’re hungry and want 2000 of something.

I got into and argument with a girlfriend inside of a tent. That's a bad place for an argument, because I tried to walk out and slam the flap. How are you supposed to express your anger in this situation? Zipper it up real quick?

I hate turkeys. If you stand in the meat section at the grocery store long enough, you start to get mad at turkeys. There's turkey ham, turkey bologna, turkey pastrami. Some one needs to tell the turkey, man, just be yourself. I use to draw you. If you were missing fingers, you'd draw a fucked up turkey.

I was at this casino minding my own business and this guy came up to me and said your gonna have to move you're blocking a fire exit. As if there were a fire, I wasn't gonna run. If you are flammable and have legs you are never blocking a fire exit.

I don't own a cell phone or a pager. I just hang around everyone I know, all the time. If someone wants to get a hold of me they just say "Mitch," and I say "What?" and turn my head slightly.

My friend said to me "You know what I like? Mashed potatoes," I was like, Dude, you gotta give me time to guess. If you’re going to quiz me, you must put a pause in there.

I was walking down the street with my friend and he said "I hear music" As though there's another way you can take it in. You’re not special. That's how I receive it too. I tried to taste it, but it did not work.

I think pickles are cucumbers that sold out. They sold their soul to the devil and the devil is....Dill.

I was walking by a drycleaner at 3a.m. and there was a sign that said Sorry, we're closed. You don't have to be sorry. It's 3a.m. and you’re a drycleaner. It would be ridiculous for me to expect you to be open. I'm not gonna come by at 10 and say, hey I was here at 3a.m and you guys were closed. Someone owes me an apology.

I opened a yogurt and underneath the lid it said "please try again" they were having a contest that I was unaware of. I thought maybe I had opened the yogurt wrong. Or maybe Yoplait was trying to inspire me. Come on Mitch, don't give up! An inspirational message from your friends at Yoplait, fruit on the bottom, hope on top.

When you go a restaurant on the weekends and it's busy so they start a waiting list. They say Dufrane, party of two, table ready for Dufrane, party of two , and if no one answers they'll say the name again, Dufrane, party of two. Bu then if no one answers, they'll move on to the next name. Bush party of three. Yeah, but what happened to the Dufranes, No one seems to care, who can eat at a time like this? People are missing. You people are selfish. The Dufranes are in someone's trunk right now, with duct tape over their mouths and they're hungry. That’s a double whammy! We need help! Bush search party of three. You can eat once you find the Dufranes.

RIP Mitch

Check Out What Pure Joy Looks Like

2005-03-30T15:14:00.000-05:00

I do believe that there is no greater feeling than the evidence that a criticism was received. It is, much like anonymity, like a warm blanket, and since I am not afforded the luxury of anonymity it remains as the only source of joy that I can exact from this rag.
From time to time I contemplate starting over. Creating some new page that no one knows about, allowing me to say, almost, whatever I want without social repercussions. However, then no one would read what I have to say. I guess I will be forced then to continue with this.
Although, I do feel as though I should increase my references to Judaism. I feel that I have license to do this based on the fact that most people from high school assumed I was Jewish due to the fact that 4 of my best friends were Israelites, and also, these four can make fun of JC on the cross without bothering me, so I feel a few references to predominant Jewish occupations or facial features are not over the line. I also feel that Dan and Zack would get a kick out of it, and I do this for the fans.
Really, where is the harm in a little good natured teasing? As Dave Chappelle says, these are merely cultural differences, that's it. I know I have written something to this affect before, but I do believe that most people need to gain more of a sense of humor about these things. I'll go first...
I'm Dave MacDougall. I'm Scottish. I am an unwashed, alcoholic, inbreed, savage from a scrap of land only good for herding sheep and fighting the English over. The only thing my country men excel at is producing tasty whiskey. Most of us could be classified as legally retarded.
None of this bothers me, nor should it. It does not define me. Being overly sensitive to issues about your heritage would seem to stem from the person seeing those qualities in them self. But hey, they wouldn't be stereotypes if they weren't true on some level.

Whoever didn't see The Office this week should. It was on diversity and basically the funniest thing I've seen on TV.

Shalom.

*I'll give you a dollar if you can find the Mission Impossible reference*

My Ear Is Bleeding

2005-03-29T17:11:00.000-05:00

Is it just me or does the woman who drones "Arrouunndd the Hoorrnn" before the first commercial break on ESPN's Around the Horn have THE most annoying voice in the world? I love the show, but that woman needs to be beat to death. If we have to listen to Woody Paige tripping over his own tongue for a half hour we should at least be afforded the luxury of having the commercial breaks free from obnoxious speech.
Actually, I take it back, I don't love the show. PTI kicks its ass and Tony Reali, aka Stat Boy, is a jackass from Long Island. Long Island, hell on earth.

10,000 on Black

2005-03-29T14:10:00.000-05:00

I want to head to a place where the beer flows like wine. Where the only rule is that what happens there stays there. Where a man can be reduced to a shell of his former self, hanging on to the bottom rung, and pinning his future on the last roll of the dice. I want to submerge myself in the vacuous debauchery that can change anyone’s values, if only for a few hours. I want to go to a little place called Vegas.
The danger in winning some sweet coin on my first visit comes with this heroin like addiction to Sin City. I guess the only thing worse than winning would have been losing. The need to claim more of that sweet cashesh is constantly gnawing at my soul. During my few hours at the 4-8 tables at the Bellagio I systematically dismantled nine 40-50 year old men. I was catching on the flop every hand, slow playing to perfection, and reading bluffs like a pro. All of this has certainly been exaggerated in my head, but I did come away with a nice little roll.
This is why I need a high paying co-op. I can jet on over to Vegas, hit up the $200 buy-in no limit tables at the Bellagio, learn to play some Blackjack at the Hard Rock, and maybe even stay in the new Wynn. To cap it all off, I could even buy some company for Mike, like the toothless wonder I saw on the American Undercover story about Vegas.
Since all of this is utterly impossible, I guess I'll have to stick to the free tourneys at 2:15 on Ultimate Bet. The glamorous life of the broke.

No real point, I'm just bored...

Word

2005-03-28T23:02:00.000-05:00

Most blogs, in all honesty, fucking blow. However, this gem, www.chrudat.com, actually achieved the near impossible task of actually making me laugh out loud. I highly suggest giving this site a read, after mine of course.

On the other end of the spectrum is www.vlogmania.com. This jackass films himself talking about pointless shit in the same manner as Andy Rooney, sans the insight or wit. His latest musings are on the soap dispensers that his wife buys; apparently they don't work very well. I'm probably helping him by increasing traffic to his terrible site but more people need to see this site to realize the pure magic of mine. It really is rather shocking how serious some of these people are about their shitty blogs. Leave him a comment telling him how much of a douche bag he is.

A quick word about using quotes on AIM. Don't use quotation marks; we know it's not yours. Don't quote Emerson, Wilde or anyone else you read in college to make yourself sound smart, we know your not. Don't tell us who it's by, esoteric quotes are far more interesting. Let's keep it to one per profile, you thieving bastard.

A Renaissance

2005-03-27T22:21:00.000-05:00

Why must people (mainly girls) provide detailed accounts of their comings and goings in their away messages? These people seem to think that giving a full schedule of their day will either A.) Impress people with the amount that they do; or B.) Get some type of sympathy for the amount of work they have. Nooo one caress. Few peers of yours will have some schedule that is much less stressful than your own, stop whining.
Which tends to be the other annoying trend in away messages. Sleep deprivation, massive amounts of work, and various conditions that are less than ideal are all part of the college experience; These people need to learn to adapt better to adversity, so as to stop bothering me. Take a page out of the cool kid hand book. Leave away messages that have monosyllabic information, such as "Class" or ”Out" or ”Work." These let people know what you are up to without the lameness of a several paragraph long bitch session. Once you have that mastered you can move on to the advanced stage of using quotes. Let's not shoot for the moon just yet though.

No offense to Katie Kramer, but why do I have friends on facebook who I have said less than 10 words to in my life. It’s sort of odd to list people as "friends" when I would never speak to them in a social setting. I guess it's all about the numbers. Cuz' you ain't cool unless you are connected to more than 1000 people. Damn, the facebook is lame. The ultimate stocker tool.

As you may have noticed, this page looks a little different. I don't claim to have any skills in the fields of web design or graphic design, but I think I made it a little more appealing. At least it's a little more unique now. Maybe I'll get a web design book and make it cool at some point, but this is all you're getting for now, you bastards.

I didn't get an Easter basket, how fucking lame!

Stop Pussy Footing Around The Sodomy

2005-03-22T21:54:00.000-05:00

Now this may be coming from my resentful side, but the latest round in the Sports Guy's intern contest is shitty to say the least. It had so much potential to kick ass, the guest judge is the amazing Chuck Klosterman, who is a beautiful man (see above). He crafted a question so powerful it was as though you were looking into the eyes of God and hearing him say "You are my most wondrous creation!" Anyone who has read Chucks books would probably be able to fashion a passable and mildly humorous answer, but these jackasses fucked it up big time. Here is the question:

"LET US ASSUME you have been sentenced to serve 30-years-to-life at a maximum security prison for a crime you did not commit. You will share a 12x12 foot cell with someone of your own gender for the totality of this prison sentence. This person will essentially become your whole life: He (or she) will be your closest friend, confidant, protector, and companion. Almost every conversation you have for the next three decades will be with this singular person, and -- when exercising in the prison yard -- your ankle will be chained to this individual.

"This is the person you will share the rest of your existence with.

"And somewhat coincidentally, this cellmate will happen to be a current NBA (or WNBA) player.

"If given the choice of all active hoopsters, who would you select to spend your life in prison with (and why)?"

I'll let you read for yourself what the mildly retarded contestants wrote, but a few things immediately come to mind when reading that question that MUST be addressed. It seems as if these contestants intentionally omitted the most obvious criteria for selection of a cellmate in an attempt at political correctness or decency. Fuck that. This is an ESPN page 2 column, be irreverent and people will love it.
Obviously, an important factor for me is the logistics of the sodomy. I'm 5'11, 155 lbs, and white. I need someone that, once they realize that they can over power me; will leave my anus in some vaguely recognizable and functional condition. Let's be realistic, a 7 foot tall black NBA star is probably not going to be gentle. It seems to me that the things that come to mind when people think about prison are A.) Sodomy and B.) Shank fights based on racial tensions or "property rights." So why not talk about what everyone is thinking?
This leads me to my second topic. Who will be least likely to stab me with a sharpened spoon? Again, in the interest of honesty, most NBA players are angry young black men with criminal records; I doubt it would take them very long to get sick of me and my whiteness. I don't think I'd survive half the sentence with the likes of Rasheed Wallace or AI.
Most of the contestants would hint at these topics then quickly change direction to avoid being shocking, that’s extremely lame.
It seems to me like my only choices would be Earl Boykins or Steve Nash. Boykins is 5'5 and Nash seems like a nice Canadian. Both are good shooters, so we could probably hustle some smokes in the yard and trade them for protection. The alternatives are frightening.

If parts of this were overly graphic it was only to prove a point. You laughed, don't lie. Anus and Sodomy are funny words.

See what the contestants wrote here: http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=simmons/050322/intern1

Dan, I owe you an apology. You waste time reading this too, you’re a great man.

Well, That's Annoying

2005-03-21T20:46:00.000-05:00

Every one of those AIM banner ads seems to open a link when you cross over them now. It is so frustrating. Every two seconds my computer slows down and Brittany Spears pops up trying to sell me her new whore perfume.
Speaking of ads, everyone who comes to this page should click on mine; I make 3 cents for each click. It's quite the little racquet I have going. I've already made a cool $7.11. That's some sweet scratch.

Yesterday, I finally hit 4,000 page impressions. Thanks mainly to Zack, thank you Zack.

No class tomorrow = not going to bed ever.

L'Via L'Viaquez... yup

2005-03-19T18:16:00.000-05:00

Frances the Mute, the new Mars Volta album, kicks some major ace. How can it not when the lead guitar player and lead singer look like these two.
When I was in Atlanta visiting Mike at Emory, I picked up a copy of the Emory Wheel, and it had a review of this disc in it. The reviewer basically ripped it to pieces. He called Omar’s solos "lack luster" and called the mix "frantic, with no clear direction." It seems to me that this kid was either borderline retarded or this album liquefied his brain to the point where he didn't know what he was writing. Luckily, I listened to the every wise and kick-ass Matty J and picked it up. It's glorious.

I also picked up Keane - Hopes and Fears, Herbie Hancock - Head Hunters, and Kasabian - Kasabian (which is kind of a let down, but I'll give it another few listens before I pass judgment). Self titled albums are a little lame, they could come up with like 12 tunes, with names and everything, but they couldn't come up with an album title? Odd.

Zack Goldman is less than a God, but more than a man...

2005-03-14T23:28:00.000-05:00

Thank God for Zack. Besides the fact that he's pretty much the only person who reads this, he also has blown my mind clear out of my head. Today he presented the beautiful concept of Joey impregnating Pam Tanner, thus resulting in the girls golden locks. This makes perfect sense. He has been extremely close to Danny since grade school and had known Pam for equally as long. He had unlimited access to the Tanner house and the misplaced trust of Danny. Above all else, he has the sick and twisted MO that would lead to this form of betrayal. Zack has solved the mystery. Bravo.

Begat

and...

and..

Somethings You Must Over Look...

2005-03-14T00:03:00.000-05:00

The mid-nineties sitcom "Full House" is indisputably one of the crown jewels of television, although some glaring discrepancies in the story line have always gnawed at the very core of my being.
The show focused on the family interactions between the three female children Donna Jo 'D.J./Deej' Margaret Tanner, Stephanie 'Steph' Judith Tanner (Step on me, if you prefer), Michelle Elizabeth Tanner (played by the pre-eating disorder Olsen Twins) and their Father (Daniel 'Danny' Ernest Tanner), Uncle (Hermes 'Jesse' Katsopolis), and Danny Tanners strange and sometimes creepy friend Joseph 'Joey' Alvin Gladstone.
The three girls lost their mother (she was killed in a car accident involving a drunk driver) just before the series began prompting Danny to invite the girls Uncle Jesse and Joey to move into their 3 floor town house in San Francisco in order for them to help him with his new found single parenthood. Needless to say hilarity ensued.
The major flaw in the story comes in with the physical appearance of the three girls. All three are blond. Danny Tanner has brown hair, so the girls did not receive the hair color from him. Leaving the girls mother Pam to be the responsible party for the girl’s hair, however, she was the sister of Uncle Jesse. Her maiden name was Katsopolis. Her parents are extremely proud of their Greek heritage. Her Mother, Father, and Brother (Jesse) all have jet black hair. There is no possible way that she had blond hair. This may not seem like a huge problem but after you have viewed every episode multiple times, as I have, this will begin to drive you fucking bonkers. Where did all that blond hair come from?

I guess sitcoms are best left unanalyzed...

I mean, she... she a four alarm fire or what?

JUMP!

2005-03-11T20:30:00.000-05:00

I am in such desperate need of a trip to the record store. It has been like 2 weeks since my last album purchase, I'm starting to get the shakes.

Top 10 albums to be bought when I obtain some scratch...

1. The Mars Volta - Frances the Mute
2. Arcade Fire - Funeral
3. The Beta Band - Hot Shots II
4. Medeski Martin and Wood - Combustication
5. Pink Floyd - Animal
6. Queens of the Stone Age - Lullabies to Paralyze
7. Led Zeppelin - How The West Was Won
8. Béla Fleck & the Flecktones - Left of Cool
9. Herbie Mann - Herbie Mann Returns to the Village Gate
10. Dave Brubeck - Time Out

In my country there is problem...

2005-03-10T21:33:00.000-05:00

Is it just me or is Joe Cocker the most over rated "musician" in the world? I mean With A Little Help From My Friends is a decent tune but almost exclusively because of its involvement with the Wonder Years. Recently he released Heart and Soul, which is basically him butchering a bunch of previously awesome songs. Give me a few beers and a mic and I can belt out some off key scratchy versions of previously great songs, and not to brag but I think I am a little better looking than the leathery Joe Cocker. Maybe I could get a record deal too...

E-Sherm has taken to wearing a neck tie, and I must say, he looks quite breathtaking. It hangs from his neck and rest on his stomach in a masculine yet graceful manor, raising his already impressive appearance to that of legend. It also serves as a wonderful prop for his spot on comedy, today he pretended to hang himself with it after an especially poor answer by a student. Elliot Sherman is the greatest professor ever.

The Official Speed of the South is Mosey

2005-03-06T22:28:00.000-05:00

Air Tran is great in theory. Low prices and relatively new planes seems like a recipe for success, however, it has become apparent that they are, in fact, the worst airline ever. Upon arriving in Atlanta Dan and I learned, due to a totally coincidental trip to the customer service desk, that he was actually scheduled to depart on Saturday rather than on Sunday with me. You may be asking “what was the cost to remedy the error that was totally Air Trans fault?” A mere 195 US dollars, more than the entire round trip air fair was in the first place. So bump that, Dan was forced to leave a day early.
After that tragic revelation the rest of the trip took a much needed turn for the better. Emory was beautiful, "ya'll have gots ta get down to Emory, down in Hotlanta!" The school that was built on Coke. Pretty much everything is named after one dude. The man who's is responsible for Coke reaching the masses. The campus is very Van Wilder, very stereotypical college. But do you know what the weirdest part about the south is? It's the little things. Example. You can go out at 4 am and get a glass of beer, and I don't mean in no paper cup neither, I'm talking about a glass of beer. Smoking indoors is legal too; you can walk into a restaurant and just start puffin' away.
(I try to rip off Pulp Fiction as often as possible)
Air Tran managed to F me in the A again on the trip home. Due to the Atlanta Police's inexplicable need to close the 6 lane highway at 11 am on a Sunday in order to do some surveying and what not, I was terribly late for my flight home. Atlanta, believe it or not, is actually the largest airport in the country (yes bigger than O’Hare) requiring me to run as fast as I could to gate C4 while carrying 30+ lbs of luggage. The total distance to the gate was probably around 1/4 of a mile. Upon reaching my gate, however, I learned that Air Tran had moved my flight to gate D5, requiring me to run faster back the way I came, take the shuttle to the D concourse and run at full speed down to gate D5. Luckily, I made the flight; I was the last one on and sweating my ass off. All told I probably ran around 3/4 of a mile in my adventure in the Atlanta airport.
As a result of the dirt cheap fair to Atlanta I was privileged to visit, in my opinion, one of the modern wonders of the world, the Akron Ohio airport. If you ever really feel like treating yourself, take a little vacation to Akron, you'll be glad you did. Case and point; I learned on the flight to Akron that the lady I was sitting next to had mortgage payments that equal my rent.

My feeling of loss over Napoleon Dynamite to the masses took a huge hit today when I saw a 10 year old girl wearing a shirt that had the phrase "Napoleon, don't be jealous that I've been chatting online with babes all day. Besides, we both know that I'm training to be a cage fighter." printed next to a crudely drawn portrait of Kip. RIP Napoleon Dynamite, I shall miss you.

One Tweezy?

2005-03-02T00:56:00.000-05:00

Some call it ATL, others call it Hotlanta, and tomorrow Dan and I shall descend upon it and spend 5 days shaking it to its very core. With Kman as a host how can we not? It should be a very interesting few days to say the least. Due to the high African American population I should fit right in.

As always I have no idea how much to pack, I'll either be wearing the clothes on my back for 5 days or emptying my entire closet. The art of successful packing still is a mystery to me.

I'm sure I shall have more to say on Sunday. Keep cool my babies.

Need Some Scratch

2005-02-27T23:10:00.000-05:00

The Oscars are so insanely long and boring, yet I still watch. Blahh...

If you ever want to see several dozens of the cheapest people you will ever meet, swing by the magazine rack at a Barnes and Noble on a Saturday. Magazines are like 3 to 4 dollars, just buy it and you won't have to read it sitting Indian-style on the floor, getting in my way.

I need to start making some coin, bad. I wonder how hard it is to get into prostitution. The biggest obstacle for me is actually working up the courage to ask if the place is hiring, because if they say no what is the proper response? I feel equally uncomfortable actually accepting a job. I don't know why, it just feels like they're doing me a favor. I'm crazy, who knows, but some mula is definitely required.

How did Leonardo DiCaprio get Gisele Bundchen?

RIP Hunter

2005-02-25T04:09:00.000-05:00

"There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die. " - Hunter S. Thompson

(late I know)

Soooo, This is all true...

2005-02-23T22:15:00.000-05:00

Well, what's a better way to follow a five day weekend and a two day week then with a nice long spring break? I barely go to school anymore, and yet it still finds a way to kick my ass on a regular basis. Last night I was up until 3am finishing my rough draft for AWD that I managed to put off for the previous 4.5 days off that I had. If you ever need a hand budgeting your time, give me a call, I'll run your life into the ground. Free of charge.

I enjoyed Napoleon Dynamite so much more when it was a gift only bestowed upon the precious few who actually paid the $9.00 to see it in theaters. Since its massive explosion on to the popular culture radar through word of mouth and the DVD release I am allowed to reference it in general conversation, this is true, but I have lost yet another thing of beauty to the masses. There are 50 pages of people from Northeastern who list Napoleon Dynamite as one of their favorite movies on facebook. True Romance only has 6 pages, that’s more my speed.
It's not that I don't want people to see good movies; I just like to have certain things remain unspoiled by stupid people.
I guess I sort of feel the same way that the bitchy broad (I can't remember her name) from Real World Philly feels about her secret pub. It's kind of the escape, and when the escape becomes the part of what you are escaping from, well then your fucked. Anyways, I agree with the bitchy broad; go and be bitchy, you have my blessing.

Mel, that's her name...

In case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of an asshole.

The Magic of 5:35 AM

2005-02-19T01:58:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, it's nice to just not go to bed. As the night becomes morning there is an awesome quiet and solitude that allows you to really think and relax. Sleeping is certainly important, but every now and then a night spent hanging out with yourself is needed. Besides that, when else are you going to see 4 episodes of Saved by the Bell: The College Years in a row? That loveable scamp Zack and his crazy antics. Also, Theloneous Monk has never sounded better than when he’s laid against total silence. Try it sometime, don't go to bed, read, listen to music, watch some classic TV, and be awesome.

The negative of staying up late: Carson Daly sucks ass.
(Why does he spell his name "Daly" and not "Daily?" Oh, that's right he's a douche bag.)

I have 3,000 words due Wednesday for AWD. Maybe I should write that instead of updating this over the weekend. I should, but I won't. Watchin' Mr. Show and writing about non-sense here sound like much more fun. I will probably have to crank out a good 2,500 words on Tuesday night at 11. Oh well.

Speaking of Mr. Show... Hey everybody, it's Bob and David!

Blood Lust

2005-02-17T20:00:00.000-05:00

I produce more garbage than anyone else on the planet.

Is there a more disgusting or infuriating show on television today then My Super Sweet 16? Certainly not. The entire show is based on spoiled brats planning an extravagant 16th birthday party to make them more popular. Every time I hear one of their little whinny voices I just want to grab them by the ears and pound their face into a brick wall until their lifeless body falls to the ground in a heap before me. Well, not really, but it is annoying. These kids seem to think nothing of spending several hundreds of thousands of dollars on this stupid party, and they will invariably say that it's because they "deserve it." Well, now there is a new reason for suicide. What made these fucking delusional assholes think that anything they have done is worthy of this level of worship. Let us just kill them and erect a mausoleum for public display of the bodies of the worst humans ever.

Time for the OC. I shall drink bourbon while watching to preserve a fraction of my heterosexuality.

All In

2005-02-15T20:32:00.000-05:00

Has Tom Selleck had a more powerful role than his portrayal of Jack Elliot in Mr. Baseball? Or has any actor for that matter? For my money, it doesn't get any better than the heart warming tale of a former Yankee sent to Japan in the twilight of his career, battling against a language barrier, strange customs and his own ego to be come the player he use to be. This movie is awesome for three main reasons. Reason the first, Tom Selleck doesn’t even need to act, this is his real life personality, I can't believe people didn't see his Rosie O’Donnell Show melt down foreshadowed in this role. What and arrogant asshole. Second of all, it has a very easy to follow story line, even at 3 am while drunk. Lastly, any film with more that a 90% Japanese cast is sure to be hilarious. Thank God for TBS and their fantastic selection of movies.

Don't you hate it when you lose all of your fake money online by being out kicked? I know I sure do.

I think I'm finally getting some legitimate facial hair. I may need to start shaving every 3 days soon. Even with my new found manliness, I promise I won't get any lame facial hair, such as a chin strap or goatee. I leave that to the lamers.

6 Reasons to Hate the Grammys

2005-02-14T01:08:00.000-05:00

Best Rock Performance by a Duo or Group With Vocal: "Vertigo," U2.

Rock Album: "American Idiot," Green Day.

Pop Performance by a Duo or Group With Vocal: "Heaven," Los Lonely Boys.

R&B Performance by a Duo or Group With Vocals: "My Boo," Usher and Alicia Keys.

Dance Recording: "Toxic," Britney Spears.

Tejano Album: "Polkas, Gritos y Acordeones," David Lee Garza, Joel Guzman and Sunny Sauceda.

There is no award show that is worth watching, but the Grammys are the best at awarding mediocrity.

11 Simple Rules

2005-02-11T14:07:00.000-05:00

Since Tuesday, every time I attempt a post I usually just end-up playing "Quest for the Family Jewels" instead. Putting it on here probably resulted in a failed MIS test and roughly 4 hours of wasted time on my part. Never play addictive games on the internet, there is no point, and I am sorry for posting one.

I have a problem with the number of blogs that actually use this space to talk about things that they think matter. It seems to me that the only reason people read these things is out of boredom or because they know the person who wrote it and find it interesting to see what their thinking. Stop trying to change the world through a blog. People want to read about pop-culture, bathroom humor, and retro cool such as Saved by the Bell and Rocky III. No one cares that you think the world is going to hell because of the last election.

For the love of God, when it is raining and you are holding an umbrella, try to avoid poking me in the eye with the little metal skewers sticking out of the sides. I was almost blinded 4 or 5 times this week because some dame didn't want her hair to get wet.

Directed at Comcast: FIX NBC! I've missed the majority of Conan O'Brien ever night this week because the picture and sound for NBC go out promptly at 12:35.
(More of a demand than a rule)

No getting offended about stereotypes. A stereotype exists because there is an archetype of that particular segment of people that fits it. No stereotype is completely unfounded. White people can't dance and are uptight, more often then not, this is true. I don't dispute this. Embrace stereotypes, they are the basis for some fantastic comedy. They are small differences and are merely observations of trends in a segment of people.

Stop complaining about how little sleep you have gotten. 90% of the people you encounter in a day have gotten less than their desired amount of sleep. It happens. You will live.

*Directed at my MIS professor, Phil Bodrock*
Don't be such a condescending douche bag anymore.

No yelling while under the influence. Your drunk, not retarded, being inebriated does not give you the right to be an asshole. Screaming for no reason is annoying and pointless. If you feel the need for attention, just start talking about what’s on your mind, I'll listen. Anything to keep you from screaming.

On the same note. If you are too stupid to understand most conversation or the difference between someone agreeing with you and someone disagreeing, get a longer fuse. Flying off the handle because you are confused is a bad personality trait.

*Usually for females, although not always*
No cheering for a play in a sports game if you don't really understand what just happened. When I was watching the Super Bowl some woman started cheering when TO caught that 30 yd pass in the 1st half. Needless to say, she embarrassed herself and her husband. I wouldn’t pretend like I knew what was happening at a foreign language opera, and people shouldn't pretend to understand sports if they don't. It is ok not to know, just be sure you can cook. (Just Kidding)

Rap sucks. Just because it has a strong beat doesn’t mean it's good. Listening to rap music to "get a party started" is lame and cliché. If you genuinely enjoy rap, that’s fine, but a semblance of white kids listening to rap music, as if they get the message in the rhyme, is sad. Find something you enjoy not because it's what you are supposed to like, but because it speaks to. It probably won't be rap if you aren't black.

The Nads Are Fair Game

2005-02-08T01:14:00.000-05:00

Ever want to just kick someone in the balls as hard as you can? Of course you have! Well, now you can over and over again! Try to beat my high score, 13895. I guarantee you will be playing for quite sometime; it's a lot like heroin, extremely addictive and has no negative consequences.

PS: I know this fucks up the layout, but I don't care...

You Are My Density… I Mean, My Destiny…

2005-02-07T21:12:00.000-05:00

This winning the Super Bowl all the time stuff is getting old. Just Kidding. It's not getting old but it just so expected now. So soon we forget the horrible Patriot teams of the early to mid 90's. Back when we couldn’t buy a win I'm sure that winning three Super Bowls in four years would have sounded fantastic, but here is my problem with it. Right now the Patriots are like that kid in high school, the class president, captain of the football team, dating the prom queen, valedictorian, and general Good Samaritan. I hated that fucking kid. If you look at American pop-culture as a whole, we are designed to hate those people/teams. There has never been a movie about an incredibly dominate team that is just always kick ass. The true drama comes from teams that rise up from adversity to take down the cocky superpower (Rocky (I, II, III, IV, V, VI VII, and so on), Miracle, The Mighty Ducks (I, II, and III), Remember the Titans, Angles in the Outfield, Major League, The Rookie, and the list goes on and on), the last thing any of us want is to become the Yankees. A group of fans so spoiled by success that we become total douche bags. Personally, I would take three wins over 15 years if it meant that we could be given the type of seasons we had during the first Super Bowl run; filled with drama and passion. I'll take the title certainly, but maybe some other team could win it next year. I'd be ok with that.

Time to watch a little piece of magic called Big Trouble in Little China. Kurt Russell’s finest performance and the reason for my love of the cinema.

Indeed…

Sweet Mula

2005-02-05T16:57:00.001-05:00

My parents are going on a cruise next weekend. Why is it that when I am involved, a vacation destination is in the Buffalo area or somewhere else that I don’t want to be? They are going to be exploring Mayan ruins and hiking up waterfalls in the Caribbean, not to mention, probably, scoring some smoke in Jamaica. And I mean some good stuff, like Kingston Super Skunk or PrimaDonna, not that swag you buy from Martinez or Tron.

Speaking of illegal drug use, someone is Apt 1 is smoking bongloads right now. It seems like they have a total disregard for the smell leaving their apartment too.

It seems that it will be necessary for me to seek employment for this semester. I really did not plan on this, but in order to continue my lavish lifestyle of caviar and Cristal, funds will be necessary. Maybe I can make one big score and be set for life, you know, go for it all. Your either in or your out, right now.

Metal and generic rap sucks...

2005-02-05T16:57:00.000-05:00

Thank You, Greg, That Was Interesting Too...

2005-02-02T22:56:00.000-05:00

I Could Ball Park It

2005-02-02T22:46:00.000-05:00

story.hostage.ap,
originally uploaded by Dave MacD.

Yea, so terrorist claimed to be holding a US soldier hostage this week only to have their claim later fall to pieces when it was reveled that the man in the picture was only a toy soldier they posed to look like a legitimate hostage. No, I am not making this up. These terrorist are using the same tactics for terror that I used in middle school to make movies with my GI Joes. I used to make snow scenes look more realistic by dripping red food coloring on the snow to simulate blood, needless to say, it was very awesome. The problem with the terrorists plan was that nothing about this picture looks real. If you plan on terrorizing a nation that is so inundated with photoshoped pictures and CG graphics, you will need to do a little more than make a little flag and pose the figure in a semi realistic position. This has inspired me to bring back the hay day of GI Joe pictures. A renaissance, if you will, in the action figure movie genre is highly over due.

Yea, I think ya can...

Indeed

2005-02-01T22:45:00.000-05:00

I think it's time that people stop saying that they are going to give 110%, 150%, or any other amount that is impossible. 100% is the most you can give, the scale of effort ends at 100. Saying that you will provided more than the maximum amount that is possible is a stupid fucking way of expressing your enthusiasm or drive for the task. Losers.

I looooove chocolate, it's sooooo good!
http://alwaysawake.blogspot.com/

Who ever the sadistic bastard is who thought up Advanced Writing in Discipline is now my least favorite person and on the top of my enemies list. I'm sure I'll smoke the paper hardcore, but this whole citing sources shit is not my style. I prefer to state my own ideas that have no backing or substantiation. I don't need to give my ideas power with the writings of others, they are fine by themselves. This is why I enjoy this blog, I can write whatever I feel, no matter how misguided or wrong. Although, it is never wrong because I am infallible, but you get the point.

I wonder how easy it is to really knock someone unconscious with the butt of a gun. It seems like you would have to hit them really hard to actually knock them out, but the movies always make it seems so simple. Well, I guess I'll just have to try it out for myself.

Peanuts

2005-01-30T23:52:00.000-05:00

No, let’s go to the zoo...

Every once and a while a day will come along that will be so massively boring that I will yearn for the days of the Boston Globe, and then I realize that I need to stop smoking crack. Each precious day away from there has left me with more of my sanity and decreasing homicidal urges. Decreasing... not gone....

Last night at about 1am my neighbor started playing some music at a volume a bit higher than I would have appreciated, but not 2 notes into the song I could hear someone come tearing down the stairs and start to pound on their door. The woman began screaming "I can hear your music on the 4th floor!! Turn it down!!!" I agree that loud music is very annoying but I was directly adjacent to the offender and I could barely hear it, and it had been on for less than 10 seconds. Some people need to relax. Living in a close-quarters environment like one does in the city forfeits certain privileges that one would have in the suburbs, such as total silence. If you want to be able to heat a pin drop at 1am move to Andover.

Hypnotic Donkey Rhythms

Speak English

2005-01-30T14:53:00.000-05:00

Main Entry: ¹souf·flé
Pronunciation: sü-'flA, 'sü-"
Function: noun
Etymology: French, from soufflé, past participle of souffler to blow, puff up, from Latin sufflare, from sub- + flare to blow -- more at BLOW
: a dish that is made from a sauce, egg yolks, beaten egg whites, and a flavoring or purée (as of seafood, fruit, or vegetables) and baked until puffed up

During my third hour of watching I love the 90's Part Deux it finally struck me, "Did that commercial describe its face lotion as a soufflé?" Let’s learn to speak English people. I realize the etymology is heavily French but you can still use the word correctly. It's really shocking how many people butcher the language on a daily basis.

No Football this week... Lame...

Pardon the Interruption

2005-01-28T17:30:00.000-05:00

Dave and Dan Do Atlanta. Christ. This will be interesting. Dan and I, finally, made our plane tickets last night to visit K-diddy in Atl. March 2nd thru 6th bitch. No comment.

The Evolution of a Pussy

Pussy -> D&D -> Goth -> Punk and or Thrash -> Studded Wrist Cuff -> Poser Garage Band

or

Pussy -> D&D -> Goth -> S&M

or

Pussy -> Gym (trying to deny sexuality) -> Backwards Baseball Hat Frat -> Abusing Women

Last but not least..

Pussy -> Lame Band -> Tattoos you’ll regret -> Lifetime of buying shirts to cover-up your bad idea

Which category do you fit in?

Where I Am

2005-01-25T21:37:00.000-05:00

This is the second five day weekend in as many weeks. They're a bit excessive. It's true that they rule in theory but they do lend themselves to boredom. There are only so many Three's Company reruns one can watch before insanity sets in. Maybe if current television would provide me with some entertainment that has nothing to do with reality or political correctness I could stave off the boredom. I have seen the same Sleep Number bed commercial 60 or 70 thousand times now; why won’t Morty experiment damn it, 45 is a good number but has he ever experience the luxury of a 20 or the solid splendor of a 70? Clearly my mind is leaving me at an alarming rate.

I'll answer my phone whenever I damn choose. Fucking KD Lang.

Just say how to make it right and I swear I'll do my best to comply.

Yes, I've sank to listening to my iPod even though I have 500 watts of music creation power 4 feet to my left, I just enjoy the novelty of it.

My finance professor, Elliot Sherman, is a beautiful man. His large, round, and protruding stomach brings his button down shirt and trousers to their limits. He mesmerizes the class with pacing before a fast twist of the head and flurry of hand gestures push them to the limit of the human experience. He's... beautiful.

I wonder what the "Big Hand" thinks about the Brad and Jen split. I'm sure his musings on the topic could let the country start to heal, maybe even allowing us to laugh again.

http://thebighand.blogspot.com/

I thought it classic...

Top 5 Unintentionally Hilarious Blogs

2005-01-22T02:29:00.000-05:00

Dear Everyone,

I saw these blogs and I felt that I would be in dereliction of duty if I did not share them with you. Read them and remember just how stupid the majority of the population is and feel better about yourself.

I Love You,

Dave

I read this and miss Ka Hei so…
http://kahmun-story-falling-leaves-.blogspot.com/

This guy sucks
http://thebighand.blogspot.com/

The number 1 reason to hate Mississippi
http://alwaysawake.blogspot.com/

Don’t let the liberal media tell you how to think and feel!
http://rosevilleconservative.blogspot.com/

I agree
http://wwwpinky-piggy.blogspot.com/

Hacheww and the Like..

2005-01-21T22:54:00.000-05:00

Yes, well, this is just how I wanted to spend Friday night; sitting at home in Andover sneezing every 5 minutes and watching Dateline. Ever since Monday when I woke up and my apartment was a brisk 50 degrees I have been getting progressively sicker all week, which is fabulous. Last night I came home to attend a NEDMA (New England Direct Marketing Association) meeting to hunt for a possible internship and had planned on going back to Boston today, but when I woke up this morning and felt like hell my parents recommended that I stay here and just hang out. Hard to disagree really, lots of free food, reliable heat, and 2 people that I can pretty much make my slaves. Just kidding... no I'm not...

I have now sneezed 8 times since I started writing this.

The NEDMA event was pretty cool, but it caused me to miss the OC, which pushed me to the brink of murder (Murder rather than suicide because I rule and most everyone else sucks; so why kill myself when there are other people who deserve it more?) Luckily, Rubin is a huge pimp and he has the episode on his computer, which is currently connected to mine in a little file transfer glory via AIM. Before the night is out I will have seen the OC and all will be well.

I know how many of you dudes feel about the OC. I know that you think that any guy who watches it needs to be shot. I know that its primary audience is female, but I don't give a shit, and fuck you for judging me. I am so awesome that I am beyond criticism.

Sneeze Count: 17

Dysons are the Mom version of an iPod. Instant Awesome. My parents picked up their new Dyson DC07 today and it fucking rules. I know that it's just a vacuum cleaner but this thing is the best design piece of machinery I have ever seen. It's ultra light, super powerful, and it never clogs. It's hard to impress a 21 year old male with a vacuum, but this thing blew me away. I vacuumed the whole up stairs for fun.

What has my life come to...? Read that last paragraph again then shoot me.

Sneeze Count: 17 (Holding Strong!!)

I keep thinking today is Saturday, and that makes me happy because then tomorrow would be Sunday and I would get to see the Pats exact a little revenge on those douche bag Steelers, but alas, it is only Friday. The Pats are 7-0 in the playoffs for the past 3 years. Brady has never lost in the playoffs. They just came off a game where they anally raped a Colts team that was supposed to crush them. The Steelers QB, Ben Roethlisberger, is a rookie. The Pats lost to the Steelers in the regular season, true, but they didn't have Cory Dillon. He ran for 144 yds last week. Basically, I’m not too worried about it.

Sneeze Count: 23

Enough is enough... Peace out...

Duct Tape

2005-01-18T20:29:00.000-05:00

My project today was to go to the store, purchase duct tape, and return to my frigged apartment and attempt to stave off freezing to death by sealing my leaky ass windows with tape. This was by far my most ghetto project ever. This morning I woke up sick and freezing. My heat decided to stop working last night, the coldest night since last winter, and not start again until like 10 minutes ago. I guess this is the trade off for moving out of the brand new, but lame as hell, dorms. Oh well, at least I'm nice in that meaty portion of the population that won't die from a little cold air.

I'm currently avoiding the homework which I have skillfully avoided all weekend. It's funny how I can find the time to do this nonsense but I can't bring myself to write a simple one page memo for AWD. I'm just a lazy asshole. I did, however, manage to cram 237 CDs onto my iPod, with 9 GB to spare, making it kick ass real hard. I won't even tell you how long it took, but I will tell you that it was worth every minute. I can now get from Jamiroquai to Orchestra Baobab in just a few simple spins of my click wheel. I can't believe I put off getting one of these for so long.

What a worthless weekend. Last night at 2 am I watch the new Freaky Friday on ONDEMAND. DON'T JUDGE ME! It was good. Maybe 5 day weekends are not the best for my development as a person, but sweet Jesus they are relaxing.

Now I just gotta keep my spurs from jingling and jangling...

Chemical Dependency and iTunes

2005-01-16T23:20:00.000-05:00

Last week I finally bit the bullet and bought an iPod. It was suppose to take 5-7 days for delivery so you can imagine my delight and surprise when it arrived 3 days early. After wrestling with iTunes and its embedded Gracenote database for quite sometime I finally got it running in its full glory and no one was left unmoved.

The Gracenote database immediately recognizes the CD loaded into the computer and searches the internet for track listings, artist info, and more, eliminating the need to manually entry this information. This saves massive amounts of time and allows me to load a CD in about 5 minutes. Amazing. I'm currently taking a little break after loading the 90th album of the day. It is a lengthy process but it will certainly pay pleasure dividends in the long run.
The iPod is a crazy little mad man. It has no faults; everything works so well and is so easy to use (besides iTunes). I think even my mom could use it with some proficiency. Which is saying something. It’s friggen awesome is what it is.

During this marathon iTunes session I have realized my insatiable craving for Diet Coke is almost as bad as if I had an unlimited hunger for real coke. I think I'm on number 10. At least it's not regular Coke-a-cola; I would be 2 inches from an insulin coma.

The Patriots will advance as I had assumed they would. Proving again why Peyton Manning is a little bitch. The Bling of a Super Bowl ring, it's blinding.

The Final Chapter of Ka Hei

2005-01-12T20:01:00.000-05:00

I wrote this on Monday December 13th...

*************************************************

Monday, December 13, 2004

Hmmm.... That Was Interesting Too...

I think I'm developing Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, zero fun. My whole wrist and palm is on fire. Sucks.

Today, after I got home from work, there was the most... interesting, 10 minutes of my LIFE. It all began with a thunderous bang on my door; A sound that could only be created by a body flying into it at an impressive speed. This heart stopping crash was followed by 5-10 minuets of screaming Chinese banter. It was confusing to say the least. The male voice sounded lower then Ka Hei's, but I could picture it coming from him if he was angry, and the female voice had a fearful tremble to it that made me wonder; "Is Ka Hei about to choke a bitch?" Needless to say, I stayed tightly shut in my room during this fight/boisterous episode. There is nothing quite as terrifying as a small Chinese man screaming in rapid fire mandarin.

Yeah, I think ya can…

posted by Dave MacDougall at 10:36 PM
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A very standard entry really, but now it has gained a whole new dimension. This morning as I read the latest edition of The Northeastern News Crime Log I found a very interesting entry. I had to read it several times to be sure I was reading it correctly. It read exactly as follows...

Monday, December 13th
6 p.m.
A man and a woman were found fighting in the Columbus Parking Lot. Kahei Ho, a 21-year-old student, was apparently arguing with his non-student girlfriend because she had told him she was seeing someone else and was breaking up with him. He became upset and hit her. Ho was arrested and charged with domestic assault and battery, and was arraigned at Roxbury District Court the next day.

Well I guess Ka Hei isn't much for choking a bitch, he prefers smacking them. All this time I thought that he was just a harmless slob, who deep down had a heart of gold, but I guess there is a darker side to Ka Hei. The side of Ka Hei that smokes PCP in the dark squalor of his room; chugging Jack and hurling the empty bottles at anyone who dares to comment on his lifestyle. Laying in his own filth and objectifying women, that's the true Ka Hei.

My mind was so blown by that discovery that I can't come up with anything else to write about tonight... I'm sorry...

Running the VooDoo Down

2005-01-10T12:20:00.000-05:00

I am finally all moved in to my new apartment and it's all that I thought it could be and more. Food tastes better, the air is fresher, and I am happy again. I'm very curious to see how Ka Hei's new roommates reacted to the conditions of the apartment when they moved in. Hopefully it resulted in a Real World style fight complete with a sobbing confessional. I think I'll write a book about Ka Hei someday.

This one tastes like the cow got into an onion patch...
That is correct.
Yessssssssssssssssss...

Now I'm not saying that this blog is a work of art, or even entertaining for a disinterested third party, but some blogs I have read of late are just pure crap. I can't speak for everyone, but I sure as hell don't want to read the slow meanderings through a persons daily events when it reads like a laundry list. Take some pride when writing, make a story, and be interesting for god sake. One of the first lessons you must learn is when not to write. Several times I have written an entry, and then promptly deleted it because it offered nothing to the reader. Anyone can toss some words on the screen and call it a post, but a true blogger will know when they have something to post and when it's just fluff. I know that many of you probably think all this blogging malarkey is “lame,” as I did before I started this little beauty, but I finally feel alive when writing these “lame” entries, so fuck you.

Top Five Musicians Who Can Kill Me With Sound...
1. Victor Wooten
2. Theloneous Monk
3. Tim Reynolds
4. Miles Davis
5. Herbie Mann

Honorable Mentions: Jeff Coffin, Trey, and Carter Beauford

Tomorrow is the first of my beautiful Tuesdays off I will be enjoying this semester. I plan to read, sleep and then smoke some freshmen in poker. In addition to the awesomeness of tomorrow, this weekend is a 5 day weekend. I think I can die happy after this week, but my fellow co-ops and I deserve it after 6 months of torture.

I'm a patient man Focker, that's what 18 months in a Vietnamese prison camp will do to you...

At Least We're Not Dying in a Mine Shaft...

2005-01-06T23:12:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow I will be receiving a desk, a bed frame, a box spring, and a mattress, as well as getting Comcast internet/TV connected. My apartment will go from 0 to kick ass in 2.4 seconds. It will be a constant orgasm to be able to keep everything just how I like it. No odd Asian cooking smells, clutter, or music that doesn’t rule.
Speaking of music that rules, my collection is about to crack the 300 threshold. That is a lot of sweet sweet coin thrown down for music. 300 X 12.99 = $ 3897. Zow. That is a lot of money, and 12.99 is a conservative estimate. It is all worth it though; music is "cool."
One of my latest and greatest acquisitions would have to be Herbie Mann Live at the Village Gate. I first found it while going through my stoner mom's record collection. It is the chillest album ever. Definitely pick that shit up. It will make you a better person, guaranteed.

Classes are so damn sweet. I sit for an hour and listen. That's it. I don't have to distribute anything, or do the mail, or be hassled at all. It's a beautiful thing. As an added bonus, I never have to listen to the incoherent mumblings of Liz or Cathy EVER again. That does wonders for my sanity. I can feel my strength returning and my mind pulling it self back together after the raping it has received for the last 6 months. Pretty soon the suicidal urges will stop. I hope.

I'm just being humorous.

Madre Dios

2005-01-05T20:29:00.000-05:00

I just need to disappear for awhile. Kind of a freaky sentiment if you've read Into the Wild, but it's all I'm thinking about lately. There is so much to see outside of Boston. I'm being choked. I promise I won't die in the Alaskan wilderness, but I do need to walk the earth for a while. Like Kane in Kung Fu, or Jules Winnfield.

Today was my triumphant return to class after my 8 month hiatus. In that time I completely lost all grips on proper classroom behavior. I was shouting to people across the room, walking around aimlessly, and interrupting the professor with random out bursts. Man, I wish that was true. Class is boring but I'll take 15 hours of boredom over 40 hours of hell in a heart beat. Later Globe, fucking die.

It's kind of weird how certain songs can just be ruined by what was going on if your life when you heard them. Off the top of my head I can think of 10 songs that make me a little agitated.

I'm watching "Smallpox," on FX. It's what we all should be terrified of apparently, because "It's all true, it just hasn’t happened yet." Great, well I'm going underground to live out the rest of my days in seclusion, away from the terrifying real world. I keep being told to be scared of the "terrorists" because they are trying to end our way of life, but the people who tell me to be scared are way more terrifying than the terrorists. Duct tape and plastic, it seems to me that the media and government have tried to alter our way of life far more than terrorists have. I think that I'm just going to do whatever the hell I want and not waste one second thinking about how many ways I can die.

Now it’s time to do homework. I have a feeling that these classes will tremble and fall before my greatness.

Dougall Out!

Dart Superpower

2005-01-04T01:25:00.000-05:00

Mike and I schooled two dudes in darts tonight at the pub. When Mike and I team up we’re pretty much unstoppable. No matter the competition. Be it Catch Phrase, Darts, or Mahjong don't challenge us unless you are prepared to lose.

Meet the Fockers was by no means the comedic orgasm that Meet the Parents was, but it was certainly art in its own right. Jewish humor supercharged with sex is basically the formula for success. Fuck movie reviewers, if they were truly representative of the average movie attendee, quality entertaining films such as Meet the Fockers would be given 4 stars.

Scarlett Johansson is just about the most beautiful girl ever. Just About.

After Zacks’... disappointing showing on Sunday, I think this Friday will be a rigorous test of his outer limits. Bitch.

I'm what the kids’ call "Ty-ty" so fuck you guys, I'm going to bed.

In the Year 2000...

2005-01-01T11:46:00.000-05:00

Co-op is OVER. Done. Done. Done. DONE! I cannot believe that I made it the full time without killing someone. As was to be expected, Bob made little ceremony about our departure. Which I guess is all the better because we just wanted to leave, but for the last group, the so called "SUPER COOPS," there was a cake, and a song, and they got medals. We, on the other hand, were basically told to gather our things and get out. Whatever fuck you Globe. On my way out the door I managed to steal Ann Wright’s stapler. Because FUCK HER! That's why.

In the past few days my updating has become sporadic at best, for this I apologize. I would be remiss if I didn't attribute my resolution to update more to Meghan Penny. Sometimes it only takes a few kind words from a friend to dramatically alter someone’s life. I am a better person for knowing you Meghan.

Speaking of Meghan's, an interesting theory has been brought to my attention by my friend Lisa; it seems to be that all Meghan’s that spell their name with that "H" in there are cool people, but Megans without the "H" tend to suck. It seems to hold true for all of the Meghan/Megans’ I know. Try it out for yourself.

I'll write again later, time to start to move to my new place...

Peace out...

That Don't Impress Me Much

2004-12-27T21:41:00.000-05:00

This blog only gives the illusion of free speech. It is unedited and uncensored in the conventional way, but there is this damn social censor that exists in my own brain that is far more confining than any regulation could be. If I really could write about what I wanted to write about my friends would dwindle to a terrifyingly small number. And that is the price you pay.
Honesty is an increasingly rare commodity since political correctness and feelings took a strangle hold on society. Which is sad really. If I was truly being honest and fair about my attitudes and views towards certain people; where does the fault lie? In me for being honest, or in the person for not accepting an opinion about themselves? Not to say that I would take such criticism well, but wouldn't we all be "better people" if honesty was held in hire regard than social restraint?
As long as the opinions expressed are not mean spirited on purpose, and they are someone’s honest feelings, people should be glad and relieved to know the truth. No games or double talk. Just truth. If any of you would like the truth, you know how to reach me.

4 more days till co-op is O V E R!!!

I think International Students are the single funniest thing college has to offer. Today as I approached my dorm I could see the Middle Eastern lad sitting at the desk was "rocking out" to some sort of music. His head was nodding; he was mouthing some lyrics, and truly enjoying what ever audio delight it may have selected. Upon entering the dorm, much to my delight, I found that his sonic choice had been Shania Twain. Namely her smash hit "That Don't Impress Me Much." I had fully prepared myself to be meet with the odd twang of a sitar or the incoherent chants of some Middle Eastern band, but I guess were not so different after all. Hell, who doesn’t love Shania?

Here is a little truth: I'm not too worried about it. Me awesome, anyone else, not so awesome. Word.

Jesus Christmas

2004-12-25T01:09:00.000-05:00

It was about 2004 years ago that little baby Jesus was born to a big fat jolly guy in a red suit, thus beginning our beautiful tradition of consumption and stress. What a magical time of year. I hope I get a Rock-em Sock-em Robot!

Yesterday at work I was in ruff shape, bourbon does not fuck around. As if being at work isn't bad enough, I had the pleasant task of suppressing a stomach coup d'état all morning long. Now, I don't usually drink heavily the night before a day of work but life has not been being very fair as of late. Earlier in the day I smashed my right side view mirror on a poll in the ridiculously small Best Buy parking garage. That combined with the news that I wouldn’t be able to move into my new place until Jan. 1, necessitating me to move all my things home on the 31st only to move them all back into Boston on the 1st, made a few drinks almost mandatory. However, you do pay the price.

Currently I am "jamming out" to some Thelonious Monk. This Negro loves him some piano. My mom claims that she has never smoked a marijuana cigarette, however, her record collection includes Deep Purple, Coltrane, Monk, Herbie Mann, and the list goes on and on. I certainly find it hard to believe that a girl going to college in the 60's with that type of record collection didn't puff the magic dragon at least once. I know for certain that her older and younger brother did/do so all of the evidence would point to some reefer smoking. It's fine if she did, if she'd just be honest about it.

The funky fresh is back in the flesh with a vengeance homes!

Billy Crystal beatin' Scarface

2004-12-21T00:52:00.000-05:00

Well, this bad boy finally reached 1,000 hits. Amazing, huh? Who would have thought that anyone would haven given a shit about anything I could possibly have to say. No one probably does, I'm sure the majority of the clicks are me checking my own shit out to bask in my stupidity.

I'm at home now writing on my ghetto Compaq that has, quiet possibly, the smallest and most uncomfortable keyboard in the history of the world. If I could, I would much rather be writing in long hand with a quill pen by candle light rather than type on more word on this POS, but, alas, my ink well has run dry.

There is nothing in the world worse than driving on a salty road with no windshield wiper fluid. On my way home today I almost got in seventeen accidents because I was forced to view the world through a NaCl haze that is not the best for driving. I'm not very excited for the next 2 months of sub zero temperatures and snow. At least I have school to look forward too! Wait; has the Globe really altered my perception of realty to the point where school is fun? Oh goodness, time for suicide.

Reason #329048 why Ryan Cutright sucks:

Over the weekend I received a "poke" on facebook that was a bit odd. A homosexual fellow from BU "poked" me and subsequently invited me to be his friend. I could not remember if I had ever met this person before, but far be it from to hurt someone’s feelings by rejecting them as a friend. So, I accepted, with little thought on the matter.
Then today, I received another odd "poke," this time from a Northeastern homosexual male. Needless to say, I was a bit confused as to my sudden popularity among the alternative life style community. This time I was sure that I did not know the "poker" so I refrained from reciprocating.
Upon telling my co-worker, big DC from the Boston G, of the strange facebook occurrences he proceeded to burst out in laughter. Apparently, on Friday, I failed to sign out of facebook on my work computer. My co-worker Ryan "little bitch" Cutright decided it would be fun to change my preference in my profile from the sweet ladies, to the dudes. Lame.
Ryan is currently in several pieces in my trunk and I'm going to dump his mangled remains into the Merrimack River tomorrow.

I assure you all... I enjoy the company of ladies.

It is reassuring that if this straight thing ever fails me, I can line up some dudes in no time flat.

I come up in your face, boom pow SURPRISE

Ooohhhhhhhh!!!!

The Prodigal Son

2004-12-20T01:25:00.000-05:00

I haven't updated for a few days, and for this I apologize. I suck, clearly.

I'm crazy. I'm CRAZY! Craaaazy... I'm crazy, crazy, crazy. I'm crazy. I'm C-R-A-Z-Y! I'm... Crazy. I'm crazy. I am CRAZY! I'm Crazy. I'm crazy.

Nine days to go until my soul is set free and the demonic Boston Globe will finally leave me to my own devices. Nine days. Niiiineee timeeesss. Nine times? Nineee timesss…

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it.”

My room is emptying out and the great move has begun. As with any move it has become clear that I have entirely too much of everything. I think I should go Ricky Williams style and live in a tent community and purge myself of worldly possessions. Really what do I need half of this crap for? I consume and consume because I've been conditioned to think that it will make me happy, but it doesn’t. So, I get more stuff, and fill my world with more clutter, and lose sight of what is really important, all because of a need to prove my worth with possessions. This need has been manufactured by some rich man in a suite peering down at us from a luxury office, not seeing people, but instead seeing dollar signs. His only goal is to pry the cash from our collective hand by any means necessary. This is who I am aspiring to become. This is the ultimate position if my career track ends in "success."

I’m just kidding.

I'm going to go watch some TV, so I can be told what to think about the day’s news.

Peace out.

My Cash Cow

2004-12-15T12:36:00.000-05:00

First of all, I love how there is an ad for a vaginal odor remedy right up yonder at the top of this page, that's very nice. Secondly, this page has brought me the Benjamin’s that will last me and mine a very very long time. I guess I only have all of you to thank for that, so... Naw, fuck off, this was all me!
To date, from page impressions I've made a cool 89 cents. That's right, some seriously sweet coin. I think I'll buy a pony.

You would not believe the chaotic state of my living room right now. It's filled with more junk/trash/shit then I could ever generate. Ka Hei is like a human tornado, I wouldn't be surprised if I walk out there tomorrow and see an overturned mobile home and a cow. It is going to be so awesome to move out of this shit hole. This place could be so nice if Genghis Khan would learn to put away his toys when he’s done playing with them.

Everyone is required to buy and read Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. I expect a 10 page report from all of you on my desk by Monday. This will count for 25% of your grade.

I Challenge You to a Race Around the World!! GO!

2004-12-14T12:25:00.000-05:00

I want to be rich enough to one day, on a whim, challenge someone to a race around the world without the aid of airplanes. I want to be rich and bored.

Another sweet rich guy game would be to hire some guy to kidnap you. Then he would drug you and leave you with no money in the middle of some random location on somewhere on earth. The object of the game would be to get home alive. It maybe Montana, it maybe the Congo, you'll have to find people and figure it out.

And... My hand kills, so fuck you guys...

I got a show to do on planet Earth...