A FEW THOUGHTS

21 01 2008

1st and foremost: Mike Huckabee is a panderer. In South Carolina he tells the crackers “No one outside of South Carolina should tell you take down your flag.” I never knew the Huckster to be such a state’s rights advocate as he has stated that he would like to FEDERALLY ban abortion, which a CONSERVATIVE SUPREME COURT recently voted to keep a STATE’S RIGHTS ISSUE.
2) If you don’t own the Beastie Boys’ new album “The Mix-Up” then you are retarded. And I don’t mean to mock retarded people, but the chances are, if you can read and comprehend these words, you’re not retarded. Anyway, I have long been a fan and I think this is their best work (no offense to “Paul’s Boutique.”)
3) The Giants are going to the Super Bowl; I am still in shock.
4) Never trust a skinny chef.
5) Always be wary of your co-workers, because no matter how much you believe these people to be your friends in many instances, you can always guarantee that they’ll sell you down the river rather than wade in the deep with you. Nothing is more disappointing than finding out someone is not a true ally. I recently had to go through this experience as someone who shall remain nameless that if I were actively seeking other employment, then this person would be forced to inform our employer. Dog’s are named ‘Fido,’ after the latin word ‘fidelio,’ which is a cognate for the english word fidelity. Fidelity is a more poetic term for the word loyalty. Let this serve as a lesson to you young people: if you have someone’s back more than he/she has yours – and these are the types of things that you can tell – then it is time to end your friendship with said individual. ***Note, this does not extend to your friends being cheap, rude, addicted, etc, etc. Sometimes you are going to have “mooch” friends; you know what they’re about and you can either accept their moochiness and continue to hang with them, or you can shun them. These types of people are not the same as those who would fuck your girlfriend, or get you fired in order to protect their own skins, or laugh at you when you’re drunk and vomiting on the curb. Frienemies will point fingers and laugh at you, friends will be staring UP at you from the gutter, equally as covered in vomit.
6) Larry David Moment of the day: I was trying to gain entry to my friend’ building to watch the game. Finally, a very old woman let me in. Waiting for her to walk to the elevator with her shopping cart would have taken days and kickoff was about to happen. I looked at her and then at my watch. Do I do the right thing and help this poor old woman who was nice enough to let me into the building? OR, do I just go and make it in-time for kickoff because this old lady was nowhere near the elevator? I know there is a right and wrong answer here, I just want to feel like less of a jerk.
7) Have you noticed that we Kall-ee-for-nyens [a la Schwarzenegger] have managed to get the Indians fighting against each other now? ALSO, and this is a subquestion/comment. Have you noticed how the ads AGAINST PROP 93 show a bunch of morbidly obese Indians who are afraid they won’t get a cut of the proceeds? Are there no skinny Native Americans left? If I’m not mistaken, the song is “One little, two little, three LITTLE Indians.” Not “4 gigantically fat Indians.” Something needs to be done; these guys need to hire a PR person. And if anything, these fat Indians make me care less about gambling and more about the effects of alcohol on the human body. Note to self: don’t drink self into oblivion like all Native American tribes who are left out of the casino industry and cannot reap rewards from the slot machines.
8) Fire Isiah!

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T.O. IS THAT GUY…

14 01 2008

Who has an acceptable stereotype: he is the cliche superstar black athlete from your beer commercials, from movies & television, and from the music (if you can call most commercial rap “music”). He makes you laugh, he makes you, shake your head, but he always entertains and he always has an audience.

Think about T.O. for a second. Just reflect on his career. Remember when he held sports media HOSTAGE for an entire summer, Remember when he did that little promo with Nicolette Sheridan where the desperate housewife wears the towel and Owens says some double entendre about always scoring or some ridiculous shit like that where he busts out an aphoristic euphemism which also happens to be a simile inside of an analogy. That was like a version of much of the porn I watch except in the porn the acting is better (that’s not just on you T.O.) There was the time he was doing crunches and lifting dumbbells in a camoflauge hat. Remember when he pulled a Sharpie from his sock to autograph a football? Remember when he “didn’t” attempt to kill himself? Today: he cried wearing gigantic sunglasses fit for a prizefighter’s post-fight news conference. He called Jeff Garcia a homo, danced on the Dallas Star, accepted and then somehow got out of going to Baltimore (which is often forgotten) and then started blasting his maligned quarterback after they lost the Super Bowl to the Patriots.

I think it’s fair to say that Terrell Owens is one of the greatest receivers of all-time. He’s no Jerry Rice, He’s not Randy Moss, but he might be one of the 15 greatest to ever play the wide receiver position. I know that that I have a short memory when it comes to great players. Terrell Owens is probably the most memorable of all of those great athletes. Call it globalization, you can credit the NFL’s expansion and the scope of sports news coverage, but T.O. is the biggest figure in the league. Tom Brady is boring, LT is lame in front of the camera, and Peyton Manning has over-saturated himself. Peyton Manning has tremendous endorsements during the season, but T.O. is just as big a name to the common man as is Peyton Manning. Manning is celebrated and Owens is notorious and his erratic behavior makes him a bigger target. Owens is Leon and now that he is gone from the playoffs we can truly understand his place in American culture not only as an athlete, but as a stereotype; a jester on which all enigmatic, egomaniacal, and erratic athletes are measured against.





IN REACTION TO MY LAST POST

7 01 2008

A friend of mine happens to be a very intelligent chap, but he also has this really horrifying disease where he tries to argue with what I have to say. It’s a horrible malady and we’re going to try to raise some money for a cure so that Judas can stop refuting my thoughts. Unfortunately (for myself), he happens to be right most of the time and especially when it comes to the restaurant business, an industry in which he has worked almost every job imaginable. Listen to his thoughts on the clusterfuck that is “the group dinner.”

I disagree.

1. This goy is an excellent mathemagician and would bet that I am even more capable than many a Jew at this sort of childish math. ok a-hole?

2. Suggest that the server includes tip (although any server worth their wine key would do this on a large group of 20-somethings), this alleviates the problem of assholes ditching on tax and tip.

3. I think women make great candidates for this sort of shitty task because they will be better equipped to put a gentleman in his place without fear of a dick-swinging contest where two men with bruised egos battle it out over $2.38 worth of gratuity.

4. Gastronomy is not disgusting despite its utilitarian function. Food is wonderful. That is unless you made it…ha! Seriously, I love food and think it is an art form that can be enjoyed everyday by nearly everyone.

Conclusion:
There are a couple of approaches here.
ONE: Eat before you attend the event and lament to the group how you had a late lunch (a money-saving lie). You are not hungry but you do get to enjoy the company without the hassle of the pending bill. For all drinks that you consumer (and you will be getting drunk while they eat), upon ordering your first drink tell your server you will not be eating but drinking and “would hate to add all those drinks to the communal bill so I will need a separate check.” Say this quietly enough however, don’t let the other DBags in your group start asking for this because it will NOT happen. Servers hate separate checks for everyone in a big group.

TWO: The group needs to agree on some things ahead of time. Perhaps a family-style meal is in order, everyone orders and shares, knowing full well that in this dinner they will have an equal stake. There is NO incentive to order the cheapest dish at a group meal because you will pay your per capita share of the bill regardless. Therefore the incentive is to order the most expensive thing as your will get more value per dollar spent. And so, family style avoids both of these pitfalls. The group pays equally and at least may consume equally depending on hunger.

“You notice how every time we go out to dinner he gets up to go to the bathroom just before the bill comes?”





THE MOST UNPLEASANT OF GROWING PAINS…

4 01 2008

Part of growing up is doing grown-up things: getting jobs, moving out on one’s own, getting married, going on vacations, spending money, having children, divorcing, dying, etc, etc. I am at that stage now where kids I went to high school with are starting to get married, have kids, and ultimately lead joyless unsatisfying lives like most Americans. While I am not there yet, I have had the inauspicious fortune (as I am sure most of my other bourgeoisie upper-middle-class friends have as well) of going out to the “big meal” with friends, colleagues, and those people who don’t quite fit into either category: acquaintances.

You’re out, having a great time, when all of a sudden…it’s time to pay the bill. You know you are fucked and realize that your plan to eat on the cheap has gone by the wayside as you will no doubt end up paying $60 for a plate of spaghetti.

It’s too much of a hassle these days for people to actually work it out themselves and own-up to what they owe. If you’re going to one of these big gatherings, and you don’t bring cash, you better be prepared to put the whole tab on your card, because otherwise, you’re just an asshole. But these things are terrible in general because a good convivial evening can be lost amidst the chaos that is: SOLVING THE PUZZLE OF THE BILL.

There are some rules by which you would be best served to follow in order to make your mass-dining experience more carefree experience.

1) Don’t let a non-Jewish person handle the tab: this is always where the goys get it mixed up. They don’t factor each individual’s purchases, rather, they look at an extensive catalog of food stuffs purchased and just try and divide equally. THIS IS WRONG FOR MANY REASONS, chief among them is the fact that you goys are not exactly “mathemagicians.”

2) Don’t let your rich friends handle the tab: they’ll throw a shitload of money at the problem and everyone else will be left to cover their tracks. You’ll either still overpay (because of white guilt: someone displaying more FREEDOM with their expenditures than you) or you’ll underpay (because of the same white guilt) and if you’re in the ladder category that white guilt extends to not paying. Whether you want to or not, you will be made to feel inferior by the super-spender for whom money is no object. ***I feel that I must tell you that I am often the perpetrator in this instance. I am not rich, but there have been plenty of times in my life when I have been in better financial situations than my dining companions and have just said ‘fuck it’ and threw down. It’s not right now and it wasn’t back then, and I am sorry.***

3) Don’t pass the bill around so that everyone can see what they got: this will only insight anger. Your cheap friends will see that there is no way they’re going to get out of this unscathed and their nights will be ruined. Furthermore this accomplishes nothing as friends will argue and then make a point of saying “well I only got this,” and then throw in $20. These are the types of people who never factor in tax and tip and although this is not necessarily done out of malice, it is malignant nonetheless.

4) Do not let WOMEN or SHORT PEOPLE handle the task of doing the accounting. I have come to understand a funny thing about women which is a sociobiological trait: they get off on the idea that they are more organized and better suited for tasks involving taking a collective groupthink clusterfuck and making it their “baby.” Might women actually be more organized and skilled in the ways of doing menial financial tasks? It is quite possible, but I find that they tend to OVERCOMPENSATE and get all Pervez Musharraf with the situation.

SHORT PEOPLE just suck in general…at least the ones I know. I am a young professional, and I deal with a lot of young professionals (Type A dingleberries) and when you combine this aggreesiveness with a short person, it equals a little Bonaparte who gets to be secretary of the treasury for you and your loser friends.

Now I am glad we have gotten through that together, aren’t you? But there still isn’t a true solution for this type of interaction. The interaction/financial transaction factor does not balance out (in my humble opinion). So let’s offer a solution: DON’T GO OUT TO DINNER WITH 8 PEOPLE WHOM YOU KNOW WILL ALL BE PAYING SEPARATELY.

It’s really that simple. First and foremost, think of the process of eating. Seriously, watch someone eat, IT IS DISGUSTING, you are literally INGESTING FUEL. If you want to celebrate with a minion, do it at a bar. Drinking is much more elegant (until it becomes much less-so) and fun-inducing. Secrets are told, connections are made, bloggers are born (hey wait a minute!).

As someone who is starting to get in-tune with the idea that it is not only WHAT one eats, but HOW MUCH is being consumed, and WHEN. I must say that the idea of having a big ole’ smorgasbord any time except for the holidays is, to me, moderately revolting. I try not to eat much after 8 PM (to help digestion) and there is a subconscious pressure to consume more when with larger groups (as there is more delicious crap being put in front of your fat fucking face!!!).

***END OF POST***

PASS THIS ON IF YOU FEEL LIKE IT, WE’RE (THE ROYAL WE’RE) ARE ALWAYS LOOKING FOR NEW READERS!





DON’T CRY AT THINGS THAT CAN’T CRY BACK AT YOU

4 01 2008

HAPPY NEW YEAR.
I know I haven’t been the most voracious blogger, and there have been plenty of topics I have wanted to discuss, but somehow, they just didn’t seem important enough to write about. It’s not just about having something to say, it’s about whether or not what you’re trying to say is worth being said.

Having said that, let me give you a little chronological history of events that have happened to me/because of me in the past 6 months:
– My mother announces (on my birthday) that she and my father are having problems and are “thinking of looking to separate.”
– My car gets impounded, someone breaks my toes and finger (at a Rage Against the Machine concert)
– A bench warrant is issued for my arrest and a $500 (extortion fee) is needed to end this
– I accumulate hundreds of dollars in parking tickets (my fault)
– My mother gets breast cancer and goes through emergency surgery
– More car problems, and as of right now, my $1,800 bumper needs to be replaced (isn’t, won’t be)
– Someone smashes my car window ($391 to replace) and steals my $550 GPS system (again, my fault)
– My holiday gift from my parents does not reach me and my mother refuses to resend it through the mail
– On January 1st, 2008, my mother calls me to tell me that she and my father are going to divorce.
– My litte sister is struggling academically and it seems more likely that the men in white coats will come for her
– Today I lost my $879 Blackberry 8820
**Oh yeah, I don’t get any (my fault), I work in a job where I am unappreciated and make barely enough to survive as is, and I am rapidly losing my hair at the ripe old age of…23. On the bright side, you know what the best part about balding is?…There is no best part, it sucks, it’s terrible.
Now, there are many worse things that can happen to a person. My most recent disappointment, the loss of my phone, will only end up causing me $100 at most and to put things in some perspective: my next door neighbor had a MASSIVE heart attack yesterday and might die. My landlord Joan (funny and tough old bird) is upset, not because the man she has known for 10 years might die, but because she doesn’t want the miscreant youths who hang around his place (I have no idea why they’re there) and is changing the locks, preparing to find a new tenant.
I am normally a very depressed individual and the last thing I need are reasons to be upset at the world for picking on me. I must say that moving out to Southern California has done wonders for my mental health and it’s nice to know that it would be difficult to make my life much worse. I bet that the God I don’t believe in is currently saying “oy, that kid, let’s have him stop fucking himself over so that my followers can fuck up his life much worse.”
Life would be much simpler without my car and without my blackberry. They have been a collective albatross around my neck and now I know the meaning of mo’ money, mo’ problems. It’s a term that exists for a reason: it’s true. I am not even rich, yet I have some material things which are worth a lot of money (which don’t even belong to me) and the cost of maintaining them and trying to lead a normal lifestyle in this crazy fucking town, well it’s enough to drive a crazy man to sanity. The material possessions about which I dream are worth attaining, but if the squeeze ain’t worth the juice, than how can anyone be truly happy? What is the point in having a $10,000,000 home if it costs $30,000 a month to insure? What’s the point in buying a brand new car if it is going to drop in value the second you drive it off the lot? It almost makes more sense to just find a way to live comfortably and not worry about being numero uno. Unfortunately, that is a leap I just cannot take.
So what should I do? The only thing that I can do is keep on keeping on. Just gotta keep plugging away if what I want is the fortune of fortunes. That’s the thing about Hollywood, the reason why people don’t leave: you can go from broke to rich in the course of a single day. There aren’t many places that can boast that, and as delusional as I may be in my goal, I cannot waiver because of a series of unfortunate events. “You can’t cry at things that cannot cry back at you,” my Dad told me that, and he is about to get divorced (a problem that can definitely cry back at him). As of right now, I am broken, not by the material crap, not by the fact that all this terrible bullshit is happening to my mother, or my sister dealing with her problems. It’s the amalgamation of all of it.
I know for a fact that there is an attractive 30-something in my building whom I think I could have sex with…the problem is that it would force me to be around her psycho gay, confined-to-the-apartment building-because-he’s-a-psycho roommate Otto. ‘Ot-toe’ as he calls himself is a creepster who likes to watch my roomie undress and generally just hang around our house, looking for him. A friend (one of two confirmed readers of this blog and a true gentleman and scholar — to my other reader, you are beautiful and the more you read, the more I will flatter you for having such great taste) believes I can sleep with her. Do I? Yes, yes I do, even as a balding, overweight, lonely, depressed individual, I still believe in the power of my schwanz when it comes to my not-even-yet-a-cougar of a neighbor. P.S. Her best friend (more on the cougar side) has a HUGE fake rack and I love her too. Does she want to make me her sex slave? I dunno, and to try and actively make this happen would invite trouble…
There are three CARDINAL RULES when it comes to sex that all smart people should take into account: 1) No co-workers, this is guaranteed to end badly for all involved. 2) No people in your building, or on your block, again, you have to think like a chess player and always be AT LEAST one step ahead. Keeping that in mind, you have to look at interactions and relationships like they are fixed in time and WILL ALWAYS END. Unless you move away, if you stop banging the girl next door, or she stops banging you, you can get hurt (and I am talking physically here). 3) You cannot mess around with girls your buddies have hooked up with; you can, but there is a long checklist you need to go over and it starts with the question “Have your buddy and this girl not hooked up for at least 5 years?” “Does your buddy now live in Thailand?” “Is there any way your buddy would NOT find out about this?” If your answer is ‘no’ to any of the following, then it is pretty much impossible. There are plenty more things on the checklist, but I am just laying-out the big ones for your edification

***CONCLUSIONS***
I don’t really no what to say about this one, more of a stream of consciousness, I am depressed so I am blogging, I wish I had James Joyce’s talent and J.J. Abrams’ career kind of rant. I guess, in a new year, people are supposed to start the cycle over and become better people, so they can eventually self-destruct towards the end of the year and then try and make themselves whole again [and the cycle continues]. So with that, here are some of my resolutions:

1) I am going to try to be a more positive person this year. You make your own luck in this life, and being a negative prick has made me a hilarious individual sure, but where has being brilliantly sardonically mordantly painstakingly funny gotten me? Laid by my left hand.

2) I am going to blog more. I have more direction now (even though this post might lead you to believe otherwise) and this is something I truly enjoy doing, even if no one else gives a shit about it.

3) Yeah-yeah, no red meat, no fried foods, no sugar, do things in moderation, exercise 4 times a week, do at least 20 minutes of heart-rate-elevating exercise at least 6 days a week.

4) Set in motion plans to discredit Mike Huckabee and to “liquidate” Evangelicals across the nation. These people have had too much of the kool-aid and need to be stopped. I was going to say simply “sterilized” but that doesn’t end the problem of the 100,000,000 or so VOTING evangelicals out there. Jesus couldn’t have dumber minions, they need to be ended. So much for my positivity streak.

5) I am going to sell some of my writing this year, and I am going to quit my job and focus on writing full-time.

6) I am going to be happier, with or without a luscious head of hair.

7) I am going to find a lady who loves me and I am going to go to Brazil with her (hopefully she can afford the ticket, cuz I cannot).

8) I am going to find the dangerous minorities who bashed my car window and I am going to make it rain on their souls.

9) From now on, when I get in a panicked state, and see my life flash before my eyes, I will no longer refer to my existence up to this point as a “disappointment.”

10) I am going to start walking the talk/type.

Happy New Year!