To Behave, or Not to Behave?

December 31, 2008

With a 6 p.m. departure from my apartment New Year’s Day, I’m not sure what my plan of attack is for this evening. I have multiple

offers, and a couple reasons for not wanting to attend any of said offers. The main reason being: I’ll probably not exhibit any amount of self control and stay up way too late, party way too hard, and be a mess in the morning.

What I need is a good accountibility person in my presence. Someone who shares the same 6 a.m. plight with me, and has to behave as well. Together, we might be able to draw strength from the pack and force ourselves to behave.

Or we could both instigate even worse shenanigans.

I actually would be just fine with poker and football for the evening.

Stream of Consciousness II

December 30, 2008

The annoying nagging of my mom over the Holidays was no where near as annoying as the yelping, potentially injured cat in my apartment complex courtyard, or the domestic arguments of my neighbors through paper thin walls. Much less gross to hear their sex, though (neighbors and the cat).

How does James Lipton be one of those elitist pricks who study the concepts of art and theatre and are “classically trained” (whatever that means) without coming off like an actual elitist prick? For a person who’s entire life is basically over intellectualizing people playing pretend, he’s charismatic as hell to pull that off.

This is the best time of the year: When I don’t have to go to the office and my workday only involves getting ready for the next event from the comfort of my own home/bed/porch.

Why does drinking during the daytime have such an allure?

I also learned (from James Lipton) that each noun has a specific phrase for the collective (i.e. A flock of seagulls, or a murder of crows). So, perhaps my post about five-year olds banding together should have used the collective “a pandemonium of toddlers,” which is unofficial and suggested by the folks at But I thought it extremely apt considering my literary circumstance.

For every commerical and article about “going green” and trying to save the planet… how come no one has tackled the biggest offender in over-use of garbage materials:  Dress shirt packaging? My God. There’s a wrapper, a hanging tag, two size stickers, a plastic inside the collar, cardboard under the collar, a plastic tab at the top button, a piece of cardboard down the back, and about 13 pins pointed the wrong direction (of which you can only find 12).

One of the main reasons I decided living in the south wouldn’t be a bad thing was the weather. When I was outside Kate’s gym in whatever state she’s living now, it was really freaking cold.

I had always believed that everyone but me has a great awesome time on New Year’s Eve, and I’m the only one having a boring time and no fun. But now I know that about 67% of people have mediocre New Year’s Eve’s. Mine will be mediocre because I have a 6 am flight New Year’s Day to El Paso, Texas. I don’t like El Paso because it combines three of my least favorite things: ridiculously long travel days, Texas and Mexico.

I Got Nothing

December 29, 2008

I need a girlfriend. Not because of any feeling of loneliness or needy urge, or biological clock. I need someone to talk to on the drive back home from holidays at my parents house.

Seven hours in a car in the south is boring. You know what’s between Houston and New Orleans? Swamp, marsh and nothing.

I know what you’re thinking: “But, you probably spent that time coming up with all kinds of great ideas/thoughts that I’d love to read about.”

Yeah, not so much. Really I only thought about the lack of driving skills by everyone in Texas and Louisiana; and my desire to light my cigar without crashing my vehicle.

Of course, it’s entirely possible that one of the reasons I thought of nothing was because of the vegetative state that Christmas gifts put me in. How can anything in my life be interesting or worth discussing if all I am doing is playing NHL09, reading Jonsey (Keith Jones’ autobiography with John Buccigross) or Inside Inside (by James Lipton), or watching the entire first season of Chuck on DVD?

Basically, I’ve come a couch potato over the holidays and the key to significantly entertaining events is the improvisation of interaction with other human beings and/or personal reflection on those incidents.

What type of reflection can I do on watching an average Joe six-pack who’s life is going no where have his life interupted by top secret government spy work and a smoking hot girlfriend who kicks terrorist ass? (well, other than “I want one of those!”).

So there’s the last few days in a nutshell: I want a smoking hot girlfriend to spice up the life, through either internation espianage, or just chatting in my car.

Crafty (Do Not Alert The RIAA)

December 25, 2008

My cousin has a very vast collection of music. We’re talking  “have to put six bookcases in his media room, but buy 18 bookcases so he has enough shelves” vast.

So every Christmas, he usually looks at people’s musical wishes, and “gives” anything he has from his own collection.

Each year, I’d get a collection of CDs — some stuff I want, some stuff he thinks I might like based on what else I want/like — and usually on top is the FBI warning against it being unlawful to copy the CDs and make illegal bootleg copies.

This year, I was surprised that he got me a book:

It's a book. No music to be found
It’s a book. No music to be found

Then I noticed there was a little tab sticking out of the bottom. I opened the book and saw this:

How'd THAT get in there?
How’d THAT get in there?

The DVD has the entire Top 100 Albums of All-Time in MP3 format.

He didn’t put it there. I didn’t put it there. It’s a Christmas Miracle.

2009 Death Pool

December 25, 2008

If you’re reading this, you probably know I run a death pool. The new season starts Jan. 1, and you should send me your picks my then. It cost $10, and the rules are simple:

10 Celebrities
1.00 point if they die, plus a 0.01 bonus for each year under the age of 90 they are. (example: Estelle Getty died last year at age 85. Therefore, she was worth 1.05 points).

Most points at the end of the year gets the loot.

You should join. Here’s why:

#1 – It’s NOT sick and twisted. Death is a part of life, and we pretend to care when we really don’t by saying things like “oh, how sad” when someone dies.

#2 – It’s no different than any other gambling. In sports, some team loses. You don’t feel bad for the team you bet against, do you? What about horse racing? The horses are racing so you can gamble, and getting hit with a stick/whip. No one’s whipping these celebrities (Ok, except maybe Carmen Electra). They don’t know we are gambling on them so who cares?

#3 – You’re not rooting for your picks to die, you’re rooting for everyone else’s picks to live.

#4 – Conversation! Instead of “oh, how sad” you can say “Hey, I saw that one coming!” and know you moved up the standings. Or “Did anyone else have him?” Most of you probably follow along with celebrities relationships. Just add their health to the mix!

#5 – It’s a ray of sunshine on an otherwise cloudy day. One person said “I can’t tell you how close I was to taking Red Auerbach in the Pool – but then I decided that if he really died I would feel bad. Now I realize that he died anyway and I don’t have any points to show for it.”

Totally join, by Jan.1. It’s only $10. For more info, plus my email address click the Death Pool tab at the top of this page (or for the lazy, this link)

So, I’ve Ruined Christmas

December 23, 2008

Apparently, my immediate family moved Christmas up to Tuesday, so that my niece could do Christmas eve at home.

This led to a problem: I ordered stuff online and not all my presents were going to get in by Tuesday.

My mom has wanted something for years, and no one ever gets it for her. So, ordering online, I finally found it.

She wanted this:

Magnetic Poetry

Magnetic Poetry

Now, luckily for me, a package arrived Tuesday afternoon (we had a bout of shopping and weren’t really opening til evening) with her gift.

However, I quickly discovered I either wasn’t focused when I ordered, misclicked, OR they sent me the wrong product. Thank God I noticed it while I was wrapping presents.

What arrived was this:

Not intended for Mothers 40 & Up

Not intended for Mothers 40 & Up

NOT quite what I intended for my 58-year old, church-going Christian, June Cleaver-ish, mother.

As I discover this, I burst out laughing hysterically. But my five-year old niece is sitting outside the door waiting for me to finish wrapping so we can start Christmas. She asks what’s so funny, and all I can think to say is “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Before showing my mom, I showed my sister in law, who howled in laughter for a while. “You HAVE to give that to her!” she exclaimed.

My mom gave my sister in law a “prayer necklace.” It has a TINY little compartment, and you write down what you’re praying about on the paper and put it in the necklace. My mom added “I don’t know what’s going to fit in that REALLY tiny compartment” and I told my sis “I’ve got some small words you could stick in there, and they definitely need prayer over!”

And we lost it. So we had give it to her and take pictures of her half laughing, half horrified face.

Naturally, my father suggested we keep it and use it now. Then looked at the box and said “This is insulting… it says ‘contains small parts.'”

During Grace before dinner, my sis and I both started shaking as we supressed laughter, because we were both thinking the same thing: “… and Jesus, forgive me for the Erotic Poetry.”

Keep Right, Except To Pass

December 23, 2008

As I’m driving to Texas, it dawns on me just how much I hate Texas.

The people here think that everything about Texas is about 100x more awesome than anywhere else, but the fact remains: It sucks.

Houston and Dallas aren’t too bad. I haven’t been to Austin, but I hear its the best city there. But other than MAJOR CITIES, everything else about Texas completely sucks.

It bothers me that no one can drive. Every pickup truck driving Texan has to drive in the fast lane to prove his manhood, even though he’s doing about 2 mph over the posted speed limit. No one in the South seems to understand the concept of “keep right except to pass.”

I even recalled how proud one Texan was to inform me that Texas was it’s own country at one point. They say it with such pride, like it makes them better than other people. But there’s a reason that they came crawling to the United States and asked to be a state. And that’s because they’re complete freaking morons incapable of governing themselves.

This made me wonder… when the Civil War happened, what if “we” (as in my homeland of “The North”) let Texas and the South just go? How bizarre would it be if the South was another country?

First off: The name. Confederate States of America. Would that stick?

Secondly, what kind of borders would we have? Would it be like Canada, with a good relationship? I mean, it sounds absurd to suggest we wouldn’t just get back together like a college couple going through a spat (the make-up sex could certainly explain West Virginia). While it seems absurd, then it would be just as absurd that Canada never join the U.S.  But we’d have to have trade agreements, imports and exports, borders, etc. It would be weird.

If we only lost the Red States, college hoops would be just fine. Football? not so much
If we only lost the Red States, college hoops would be just fine. Football? not so much

And where would those borders go? Would California be USA or CSA? What if some state isolated from the CSA by surrounding United States wanted to join the CSA? Would they be prevented from doing so by geography? Or could they join like Boston College could join the ACC?

College sports could suck if we ended up with the wrong states for sports. Football could SUCK if all we had was the Big Ten and Notre Dame. College basketball could be great: We’d lose Duke and UNC, but if we kept California, then we could be alright because every else down south really kind of sucks.

Although, how many U.S. kids would go to CSA for college (Actually, I wonder if those down south would ever come up with the idea of college without us carpetbaggers). So, maybe all those stud athletes would go to U.S.A. schools.

But besides college sports, there’d be a lot of crazy stuff that would be different. Like, would they ever give up the slaves?

So I guess I can’t really make a determination if preserving the union was good or bad without more plausible scenarios.

Blood on the Dance Floor?

December 21, 2008

I just read a news story that Michael Jackson is in bad health.

“Michael Jackson is reportedly in desperate need of an emergency transplant operation to save his life from a rare lung condition, according to the author of a new biography of the singer.”

First off, this would explain the sightings of Jackson in public wearing a surgical mask or scarf to cover his mouth and nose, etc. We all thought it was because his nose was so ugly.

Remember when Michael was black... and cool?

Remember when Michael was black... and cool?

Secondly, why couldn’t this have struck him in 1989 before he became a parody? Think about it. If Michael Jackson died in 1989, he would be regarded as a musical genius. Spoken of with the likes of Hendrix, Morrison, Lennon, Joplin, Gaye, and countless other musicians who left the earth in their youth.

Instead, he did a mediocre album in 1991 (Dangerous), shot a video with Macauley Culkin (Black and White), and then turned into a freakish goul accussed of molesting children, mocked mercilessly by the media.

I don’t want to think of him as an effeminate freak. Michael was the freaking King of Pop. Thriller! Billie Jean! Smooth Criminal! Not child molesting, alien looking warning against plastic surgery.

Nobody Home

December 20, 2008

I’ve got [300 and] 13 channels of shit on the Tv to choose from (to choose from… to choose from).

I’ve got a feeling I haven’t had in quite some time. Since about July… Boredom.

Not overwhelmed by work for the first time since August. Nobody’s around to do something fun (or even online to talk to). I’m not hungry. TV totally sucks. And I reached the end of the internet (well, all the parts interesting to me anyway. I haven’t delved into the seedy underworld of deviant pornography).

I’ve got mediocre football teams playing mediocre bowl games (actually, that just ended). Uninteresting football. Uninteresting basketball. Worthless NBA. No hockey. Bad movies (Wizard of Oz was on earlier, I thought about cuing up Dark Side of the Moon with it, since I’ve only done it once — I’m not a pothead — but I came in late, and with commercials, it’s too hard to sync).

My laundry and dishes are even done. Oh, and I’ve read every book I own at least seven times. Ditto my movies.

Normally, in times like this it would be one of the ideal times for one of my every nine-months or so binges of video games. Except I am no gamer, so all my EA Sports games are from 2005 or 2006. Horribly outdated and I’m not feeling the itch.

If only I wasn’t too caffienated to sleep, I’d go to bed now.

This is weird. I’m normally not “not-busy” enough to be bored until the summer. And that’s why God gave us the gift of baseball. I suppose I should be productive and work ahead… but that will just lead to future boredom. So I’m just going to ramble on about my boredom.

Cigar Scavenger Hunt

December 19, 2008

I like to impress. I gave directions to a coworker for cigar shopping, since she knew nothing of cigars and wanted to get some decent ones for her boss.

I typed up step-by-step directions, with pictures, for the local cigar shop and swelled with pride when she returned with her mission accomplished.

She told me it was like a treasure hunt (turn left, when the wall juts out you will find item #1 in the middle shelf. Turn around and face the wall. Directly across from you is item #2… etc).


She told me the owner of the shop was impressed that I knew exactly where each cigar I recommended was in the store.

Even better than the self-esteem boost from this incident was when my coworker gave me one of the cigars I recommended as a thank you for my assistance.

My Fuente Hemingway is quite enjoyable. Thanks D’OB!

I could have saved it for the my drive to my parents house for Christmas, but I’ve got plenty in the humidor. I need to smoke cigars on long trips because it quells my road rage. Plus it’s fun to smoke a cigar while driving and blasting the Soporano’s Theme Song.