full windsor

This morning, while trying to figure out which movie theme song is superior – Superman or Indiana Jones – I noticed a tiny little tag on my tie.

It read: “100% Silk. Hand Made.”

And at first I thought that this was Something To Be Happy About. If something is 100% it usually means it is The Best, unless you’re talking to a high school wrestling coach who would argue that 110% is really what’s required.

Hand made is good too – because machines are evil. Aside from my Playstation. He is nice.

But then I got to thinking that maybe this is not such a good thing.

Hand made? Hand made by whom?

I’d rather not think about the little boy who is sitting in his wheelchair in China or somewhere exotic and weird like that piecing my tie together with his bony hands so I can look like a pseudo-professional.

The poor kid is probably hungry too, because I’m sure the porridge that they feed him doesn’t have raisins or bananas in it. You know, to give it some flavor.

He just wheels his chair around all day, refusing porridge, planning his escape and making ties for me.

If you’re reading this Tie Making Boy, come to New York and I’ll take you in like the son I never had.

No longer will you be making ties, you will be seeing the sights and living the good life!

You heard me – nothing but the best hot dogs for my new son!

But until then, could you do something about the stitching on the back of these? Sometimes it comes unraveled in this one little spot.

Also, you should really eat your porridge.

No one likes a skinny minny!

silence is golden

I’m a man of few words.  If you don’t know me in real life, you can tell this because my posts are never much more than 350 words.  And no, that’s not because I’m not smart enough to come up with more to write about.  Stop thinking that.  Stop it!

It’s because there isn’t a lot to say.

Things About Life can be summed up a lot quicker than most people think.

Person: “How do you feel about the continuing war in Iraq?”

Me: “Bad idea.”

Person: “Tell me about your childhood, what was your relationship with your father like?”

Me: “I drink a lot.”

See?

There is no need for lots of words.

Life is really not that complicated.  Sometimes it sucks and sometimes it doesn’t.  That’s really it folks!

Because I’m a man of few words, I cannot stand people who talk a lot.

It drives me fucking crazy – especially in the morning.

Just a couple minutes ago this guy came into the office just blabbing about complete nonsense.  Well, it wasn’t really nonsense – it was just stuff that I didn’t want to hear about – which to me meant it sucked.

He started talking and all I could think was this:

Shut the fuck up!  No one cares about your wild experience at Starbucks on your way here!  No one!

I didn’t say that, but I did say, “Wow!  Someone took some fucking energy pills this morning!  Let’s take it down a notch, okay?”

It got my point across because the room got silent right after I said that.

This moment illustrates my point – there is usually no need to talk.

When you think you have something to say, think about it for twenty seconds and you’ll probably realize it’s dumb or you can say it with a lot less words.

Now let’s all play the quiet game.

First one to speak gets a fist in the eye.

i’m an activist

I like to stand up for What I Believe In.

When issues come up – I will fight for What I Think Is Right until there is no fight left. Or maybe until the other person says something like, “Dude this is stupid.” Which means I’m right and I win.

And one of my newest causes is Getting Tyrannosaurus Rex’s The Respect They Deserve.

I am all in on this one.

If you call my phone, my voice mail says, “Hi, you’ve reached Chris. Don’t let anyone fool you – T’Rex’s were by far the best dinosaur ever.” Because I think a 29 year-old talking about T-Rexs on his message is A Good Thing.

The lack of respect all started with Jurassic Park.

Everyone loved that movie and really it was pretty cool because if there was an island where I could go see dinosaurs I think I might just pee my pants from excitement. But not too much because I think they can smell urine and I wouldn’t want them to attack me.

But Jurassic Park, while it did showcase a pretty cool T-Rex, gave the spot light to Velociraptors.

Let me burst everyone’s bubble when it comes to Raptors – okay? They had feathers. Feathers!

You know what a T-Rex says when he sees a dinosaur with feathers? Nothing – because he’s too busy eating it to say something witty.

And you know the ladies loved them some T-Rex. Those big legs weren’t only for running fast – if you know what I mean. I mean they could really get some thrusting power behind them. During sex.

No other dinosaur comes close to being as awesome as a T-Rex.

Okay, Stegosauruses were pretty cool because of that spiked tail, but they still weren’t the T-Rex.

Until the T-Rex gets the respect they deserve, I will not rest.

Well, maybe a little nap here and there, but for the most part I’ll be spreading the word in their defense.

So if you meet me and I start talking about T-Rexs, know that I am just Doing A Good Thing.

And I also may be drunk.

god bless hugo boss

The wedding went great.

Lots of great food and booze and blah, blah, blah.

I also Acted Appropriately, aside from me yelling at a doorman on the way to the after party that, “His club sucked, hahaha!” Even though I had never been there.

I’m not one to really do “follow-up posts,” but I will leave you with this.

A picture of the suit I’ve been yapping about for too long.

And yes, this is obviously an excuse to post a picture of myself on my blog.

I’m sorry – I’m a selfish asshole.

But that’s part of my charm.

Right?

organization

I have a wedding to go to tonight, so I thought I’d put together a To Do List.

I hear that People Who Have Their Lives Together do these kinds of things, so I thought it might help me.

Enjoy.

To Do For Today:

(I think this is a good start – a title makes things Important)

1. Make it through work without thinking too much about how I’m left-handed and I should get some kind of reward for that because it means I’m Unique and maybe even Awesome.
2. Get cash out of ATM for booze, booze and some more booze. Also donuts.
3. Memorize the lyrics to Return of the Mack because it is one of the greatest songs ever.
4. Call Ari during lunch and recite memorized lyrics, once finished, wait for her to praise me.
5. Once off work, give myself dap for A Job Well Done.
6. Shower. Don’t forget behind the ears, people look there during weddings.
7. Put on new suit.
8. Smile at myself in the mirror because I look like a sexy beast. Or maybe just George Clooney.
9. Get to the wedding On Time. This is What Adults Do.
10. Try not to get too drunk.
11. Having failed, try not to tell too many people that their shoes are ugly.
12. Absorb Ari’s multiple discussions with me about “How to not be an asshole.”
13. Go to after party.
14. Drink more.
15. Shake what my momma gave me.
16. Catch cab home and try and prevent Ari from being mean to cabbie, like she always does when she’s wasted.
17. Make grilled cheeses and Stuff Face.
18. Go to sleep.
19. Try and dream about being Batman.
20. Wake up tomorrow and hate life.

I think that about covers it.

current event

Look at you.

Look at that beautiful smile.

And the hair! My god the hair! Do you know what I’d do for hair like yours???

I’d eat a monkey.

Yes, Ernie, an entire monkey. Not cooked or anything – I’d just pop that sucker right in my mouth.

You are The Great Ernie Anastos – news anchor for New York’s beacon of news reporting Fox 5 – and everything goes your way. You rule this city with teeth that can be seen from the Jersey Shore.

But while you are this amazing example of What A Man Should Be – I must admit – I’m worried about you.

I think you need to take a break.

How will the people get their extreme right wing news in this city without you?

That is for them to worry about my good friend.

I know, I know, you enjoy coming up with new things for people to be unnecessarily scared about, but let someone else take over for a little bit. Yes, I remember Bird Flu! That was a classic Ernie, no one will forget that.

But what you need is a break from all this quality news reporting.

Come hang out with me, we’ll have a couple beers, and we won’t talk about how great the war in Iraq is going.

No, Ernie, not even for a couple minutes.

It’s time. Let’s kick back and let the people see Casual Ernie.

That’s it.

You beautiful son-of-a-bitch you.

cupid can go to hell

Everyone falls in love, right?

At one point in your life, you’re going to feel all squishy inside for someone and then want to show everyone how you feel about that person.

So you buy them flowers.

Or you hold hands. But hopefully not for too long because holding hands is just so un-fucking-natural that it doesn’t make sense to do it for more than a block or two.

I can take seeing couples Being Sweet to each other and all that crap, but I can’t take Extreme Public Displays Of Affection.

This morning on the way to the office, there were two couples who crossed this line.

One woman was hugging her boyfriend the entire time. I was on the c for fifteen minutes. She hugged this dude for fifteen fucking minutes.

It almost drove me insane.

I was this close to blurting out, “Okay! We get it! You love each other! Now just stop it, please? Grab hold of the rail like everyone else and stop being such a fucking idiot.”

Then there was the couple sitting down in front of me.

They were making out.

I could see their fucking tongues go into each other’s mouths and it almost made me choke them to death.

And I think I really might have if choking someone to death wasn’t Frowned Upon by the police. Because then they’d arrest me and I’d have to go to jail and I’d probably join a gang and then become Leader Of The Gang because I’m good at coming up with nicknames and gangs always have nicknames for the members.

The worst part about these two couples was that they were both in their late twenties.

They weren’t teens with Raging Hormones and zits.

C’mon.

I don’t need to see that you’re In Love.

Because while things are great and you can’t keep your tongue off his cheek now, half of all people who get married get divorced.

Snuggle Bear doesn’t like hearing that does he?

No, Snuggle Bear doesn’t.

your days are numbered bobby flay

Some of you know that my girlfriend, Ari, has an amazing food blog. She takes pictures of what she snacks on and sometimes the great meals that she makes us.

Well, she’s gone until Thursday and unable to blog until then.

Being The Good Boyfriend that I am, I decided to do a little food post in case any of her readers needed their food blog fix.

So last night I made A Meal.

I did this by drinking first.

If you look hard enough, you can see my reflection in the wine glass. I was wearing a t-shirt and boxers.

In case you didn’t know, this is how all great chef’s cook – half drunk and in their underwear.

The Next Step involved veggies. I picked broccoli and mushrooms.

Do you like how the knife was sitting on top of the veggies?

I knew you would.

This is called Placement. Or maybe just Me Putting A Knife On Top Of Pre-Cut Veggies.

When I was done slaving over the veggies, I made some Quinoa.

Quinoa is Spanish for Stuff That Looks Like Rice But Isn’t Rice.

I know this because I have Knowledge.

When the Quinoa was done, I put it and the veggies into a skillet and cooked them.

I added some curry sauce that may have came pre-made from Trader Joe’s, but a true chef never reveals his secrets.

Or is that magicians? Being a magician is A Sad Thing, isn’t it? I mean, who the fuck cares about making stuff disappear? Wow – you made a quarter come out of my ear. Give it back to me before I punch you in your unaccomplished face.

More on magicians in another post, I’m sure of it.

Here is a picture of The Meal.

While I was cooking it, it occurred to me that it kind of looked like someone puked in the skillet, but at least that person was eating their veggies.

I ate it and I watched the NBA playoffs and I was A Happy Man.

I know that some of you are extremely jealous of my cooking skills now. And this can be hard to take.

But just know that I too struggled at one point in my life to cook A Fancy Meal.

And if you take anything from this food post – anything at all – please know that cooking in your underwear can be fun.

Just make sure your neighbors can’t see you through your open curtains and you’re not singing along to Eddie Money as you do it.

a man of many talents

I could fall pretty far and still live.

It’s really a unique skill I have.

This is a point I have tried to make to Ari, J.P. and countless others.

“But how far, Chris?  How far???” You must be asking yourself.

If you’re not asking yourself that then you must have Something Better To Think About and if that’s the case then please email me so we can talk about How You Feel.  Or maybe I’ll just steal the idea for my next post.

I could fall eight stories and still live.

No problem at all.

I’d probably break my legs, but otherwise I’d be fine.

Of course I’d shield my face from the fall, because if anything happened to it I’d be out of my job as a George Clooney look-a-like and that would be A Bad Thing.  George gets a huge attitude when things go wrong – trust me, it’s not pretty.

See, the secret is that you have to roll when you hit the ground.

I learned that from watching movies about combat, like Navy Seals.

Also, I wouldn’t be running and jumping out of the window, it’d be a slow and controlled fall.

Frankly, I laugh when I hear about people dying from falling out of windows at anything under eight stories.

Okay, maybe I don’t laugh.

But I certainly think about how I would have done things better and not have let some enraged lover push me out – because that is just silly.

I think that my ability to fall really far and still live would even make me something of a celebrity.

I can see the headlines now, “Man Falls Eight Stories and Lives!  Cool Blog Too!”

I’d be in the hospital and everyone would Feel Bad For Me and I’d get rich from the book deal and George would be okay with it because my face would be fine and I’d tell people to read my blog and they would and maybe I wouldn’t even have to do the dishes anymore.

I imagine it’ll go something like that.

Don’t you?

game time

There’s nothing more that I like than a little competition.  This is because – like Ari tells me in Moments Of Great Frustration – I am An Overly Competitive Person.

When I’m on the treadmill at the gym and there’s a guy next to me running at 7.5, you better believe I’m running at 8.0.

I’m also really insane when it comes to playing sports and board games – I’ll play so intensely that it makes people wonder if I’m mentally stable.

I am focused until the last shot has been taken, the final chip has been dropped in Connect Four (I dare you to challenge me in Connect Four – it will only result in you crying Tears Of A Loser) and the last card has been dealt.

But there is one game that I will not play.

I will not play Monopoly.

That is because it is the worst fucking game ever invented.

No one ever finishes the damn game, first of all.  And if there is no Winner (me) and Loser (you) – what is the point of playing???

It is also so boring it makes me want to rethink my life and maybe become a priest, but then I realize that if I become a priest I probably have to touch little boys and since I don’t like doing that I decide that my life is fine as is.

And don’t get me started on all the property shit.

No one fucking cares that you got all the railroads, okay?

And congratulations – you got fucking Boardwalk.  Hope you’re happy because this is the best your life is going to get.

Whenever someone I know suggests playing Monopoly, I usually say something like, “Or maybe we could kill ourselves!”

Which usually gets my point across.

Monopoly is truly the worst game ever, and even when I do play the stupid game, someone always takes the Racecar piece before me.

And that really pisses me off.