Monthly Archives: February 2008

i’m a baby

You know how I make fun of people and enjoy judging them without any knowledge of their current situation?

Well, it appears that karma has reared its ugly, Buddhist (is karma even a Buddhist thing? I just associate Cool Things with Buddhism – like the Beastie Boys freeing Tibet and that whole deal) head on me today.

I’m sick.

I’m home sick and I feel like shit. Please leave all comments wishing me well below.

Now you’re thinking, “Why are you up at 9:50 and writing when you’re sick?” Well, that’s because I’m 78 and I wake up at the crack of dawn no matter what happens to me.

Remember when you were a kid, and you’d hear your parents up at about 8:00 AM every Saturday, and you’d think, “Fuck that, I’ll never be that lame.”

I’m that lame.

If I’m out until 4:58, drinking my ass off, yelling at people who want to knock me out for making fun of their shoes, I’ll still wake up by nine the next day.

Never fails.

So that’s why, even though I feel like someone punched me in the neck and then filled my nose with Fix-A-Flat, I’m awake and writing.

On the plus side, because I’m home, I’ll probably post more than once today and be able to leave even more insightful comments on your blogs!

Oh, how exciting!

I’m going to blow my nose.

I hate life.

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literature

There’s a lot of pressure on you when you read something on the train.  Same goes for people who read in public anywhere – people are watching you and judging you.

Some people read the Times.  These are the Smart People.  These are also the people who think paying $1.25 for a paper is Something That Is Worth It.  They like to eat at places with only one word for the name, like “Tao” and “Water.”

Some people read the Journal.  These are the Business People.  These are also the people who you’ll see typing away on their Berry at 6:57 in the morning, trying to look like they are sending Important Emails, when in fact, they are playing solitaire.  And losing.

Some people read Intelligent Books About Confusing Things.  These are the Subject Snobs.  These are also the people who like to kill conversations at parties about how no one ever died in the G.I. Joe cartoon, with comments like, “Sometimes I wonder what Marx would’ve thought about our current economic state.”  They are fuckers.

Some people read magazines about People Who Are Rich And Famous But Still Suck Anyway.  These are the Brain Dead.  These are also the people who have officially given up, thinking, “Well, learning about things is just too hard, so I’ll just stick to what Jessica Simpson wore to the gas station today – crazy!”

Some people don’t read anything and judge all the people who are reading things – then blog about it the next day.

These are the Cool People.

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putting myself out there

Everyone knows about my love for white dude rock, but it became apparent to me this morning while I was at the gym that I have some other songs on my iPod that I’m not too proud of. The following is a list of songs that makes me wonder what’s wrong with me.

 

Kylie Minogue – “Love At First Sight

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Oh yes. When this songs thumping dance beat hits my headphones, suddenly I’m lifting those weights so much faster. When she croons, “Thought about givin’ up, didn’t know what to do, then there was yoooouu” I think to myself, “That’s right Kylie! Don’t give up on love and I won’t give up on this bench press!” When this gem comes on I feel so energized, I feel ready for anything, but most of all I feel like shaking my money maker.

Duncan Sheik – “Barely Breathing

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Poor Duncan, why has she wronged you? Look at that face! How could she play with your tender face that way??? This song is the direct opposite of Kylie. I hear this and instantly I’m mulling over the deeper issues in my life, like “Why don’t I have any more peanut butter in the apartment?” and “I think I’ve only seen the back of my head once in all of my life.” Duncan puts me in a deep, mellow mood, ready to answer any question with, “I only taste the saline when I kiss away your tears.” That might not be a good thing to say to the men I know in my life though.

P.M. Dawn – “Set Adrift on Memory Bliss

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Yeah right – this song is fucking awesome.

Sugar Ray – “Someday

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Yup, more white dude rock. This song puts me in a fun, I’m lucky I grew up in a middle class family kinda mood. So what if lead singer Mark McGrath says the exact same thing over and over and over during the song – it’s a classic. With lines like “We’ll take a swim in the deep blue sea, I go to leave and you reach for me” it’s obvious that Sugar Ray is deeper than most people give them credit for. This song also makes me want to skip. Skipping down the streets of Brooklyn is not usually a good idea, but with my white dude music playing, I don’t have a care in the world.

Madonna – “Into the Groove

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This is Madonna’s best song. Hands down. And don’t try and argue with me, I will fight for old school (only old school, her new stuff sucks) Madonna ’till the death! This song has a similar effect like that of Kylie’s – I am a dancing machine! This was also featured in that crappy “Desperately Seeking Susan” movie, but don’t knock it because of that. If this song doesn’t get your body moving, I don’t know what to tell you. Well, maybe something like, “Music can be such a revelation, dancing around, you’ll feel the sweet sensation!” There really is no comeback for that line – don’t even try it.

 

Well there you have it, my wussy music has been officially outed. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go grow a moustache, chop some firewood, arm wrestle a bear, crush a beer can on my head, lift something really heavy and listen to some music about having sex with lots of women.

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smooth operator

Who doesn’t love Jeopardy?

This show is always on in my apartment. On any given night, you can find me sitting on my couch, yelling out questions, “What is bat guano!” and trying my best to know more than the people on the show.

My favorite part of Jeopardy is when Alex (I call him by his first name because we’re tight like that) interviews the contestants.

It’s like a watching a horrific car crash. You want to look away, you know it’s going to be brutal – but it’s just so enticing.

The contestants tell the worst fucking stories. Then Alex, like the Super Human Host that he is, must make something funny out of what they say. Seriously, why do these people always pick the absolute lamest thing about them to tell everyone on national television?

This one woman talked about how she had three cats, and named them all after her favorite tv shows! Oh, how interesting! I only want to punch myself in the face three times as opposed to seven!

But have no fear, Alex The Fucking Man Trebek is here to save every single person from looking like a complete loser.

I also love it when someone has the balls to risk it all on Double Jeopardy.

When people don’t risk it all, I scream at the tv in anger, “He’s weak Alex! You must punish the weak Alex!!!”

But Alex just plays it cool.

He’s seen it all before.

He smirks.

He reads the cards.

There is no doubt in my mind that Alex is totally cool off the show. He probably listens to Led Zeppelin then throws on some Jigga right after it, just to keep shit interesting. I bet you’d be out at the bar with him, he’d be charming the women with his wit, then turn to you and say, “Who is – totally gonna get laid tonight?”

You’re the man Alex. You’re the man.

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saving the youth

You know who pisses me off? Those kids on the trains who sell candy bars. If you live here you know what I’m talking about.

The door clangs open, and even above the music in your headphones you hear, “Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, my name is [some stupid teen name] and I’m here selling candy bars. Not for no school or basketball team, but for me, to keep myself off the streets and to make some money.”

And then, much to the fat people on the trains dismay, “Unfortunately, all I have today is M&M’s and Starburst.” Like we all just figured he’d be fully stocked with everything from Snickers to Almond Joys.

Fuck these kids.

Go get a fucking job. Go take your ass to Wendy’s and fill out an application. And try the Frosty while you’re there – they’re fucking amazing.

Don’t tell me about keeping yourself off the streets. You obviously aren’t hard up for cash, seeing how you’re rocking some new kicks and a nice, leather jacket.

Oh, and thanks for “keeping it real” with me by telling me that it’s not for a school or a basketball team.

Because you were so honest with me, I’ll give you my dollar, add some fat to my stomach and keep you fuckers in business.

I mean, can I do this?

On my way home from work today I’m gonna step on the train, pull out a bag of bic pens and announce, “Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, my name is Chris, and I’m here selling bic pens. Not for no corporation or Office Max, but for me, to keep myself out of my office and to make some money. Unfortunately all I have today is blue ink.”

No. I can’t fucking do that.

So do me a favor candy bar selling teens, next time you feel the urge to make some cash, try applying for a job instead of setting a terrible example for kids even younger than you.

You can thank me later.

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why my girlfriend thinks i’m immature

Last night Ari (my girlfriend) and I went out to a bar in the Lower East Side.  It wasn’t the kind of place that either of us like, but she was meeting some friends there and I was gonna have some drinks there until I met my friends at another bar.

When we arrived the bouncer at the door informed me that I had to pay a $15 cover.  Of course, the girls I was with did not have to pay anything.

But I get that.

Men are pretty much universally uglier to look at than women –  so there you have it – I was $15 dollars down before stepping into a bar that I didn’t even want to go to.

This did not bode well for the bar.

Once inside, my god, I had never seen so many guys wearing striped button-down shirts and women wearing Forever 21 outfits in my life.  It was disturbing.

This made me even more angry.

Then, when Ari and her friend checked their coats, I said that I was keeping mine because I was leaving soon anyway.

The bouncer at the coat check – yes, a bouncer at the fucking coat check – informed me that it was a mandatory coat check.  Mandatory?  What, if I keep my coat on somehow I’ll upset the sea of 21 year-old dudes wearing American Eagle?

Despite my intense anger, I gave my coat to the coat check woman.

Another $2 dollars.

I looked at the bouncer.

I was not a happy person.

Finally – after some drinks and shots were consumed –  and we made fun of some girls who had apparently forgotten that it was not okay to do little kicks while punching the air when dancing, I got the call from my friend and I left.

This was the moment I had been waiting for.

As I walked out, I noticed that the line to get in was about thirty people deep now.

Perfect.

I looked for a cab, turned to the line, and by the power vested in me by Petron, I yelled, “Don’t go!  This place sucks!  I’m telling you turn around!  It fucking sucks!  Save your striped button-downs for another night!!!”

The people and the bouncers were not amused.

I climbed into a cab and we had to drive back by the bar.  Once again, I wound down my window, hung my head out of the cab and screamed that the bar was horrible – laughing like an idiot the entire time.

As I went to meet my friend, the radio in the cab was playing “Under the Milky Way,” which is an Awesome Song, so my mood got better.

I smiled to myself and thought, “You know, I really am a pretty fun guy.”

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saturday shorts

* I saw that guy who told me about his nasty feet today at Trader Joe’s.  I stayed away from him.  I did look at his feet though.  This guy has no idea how much he has impacted my life.

* Packing groceries is a an art form.  When I worked at Sam’s Club (yeah, whatever, Walmart is the devil and all that, but I needed money for the mass amounts of pot I consumed – okay?) back in my freshman year of college I used to take an insane amount of pride in how well I’d pack people’s shit.  Now, when someone half-asses a bag for me – I just shake my head as I analyze their every move.  “Man, no way you go with the eggplant now – the ketchup!  The ketchup now you fool!!!”

* Speaking of grocery stores – have you ever used those self-check out things?  You want to talk about pressure?  There is nothing like when one of these things doesn’t work right.  I was trying desperately to get one to work today, and all it kept saying was, “Please place the item in the bag,” like some kind of fucked-up sadistic grocery robot.  I started to panic.  I could feel people’s eyes boring a hole into the back of my skull.  Sweat was pouring down my forehead and my hands were trembling.  It was fucking terrible.  I’m sure I just lost at least a year off of my life because of that ordeal.

* My dog is chewing on a penis.  I’m serious.  At the pet store today, my girlfriend and I were looking to get him some rawhide, when out of nowhere, the owner of the place says, “Has he ever had a bull-tuggy?”  We both shook our heads no.  The owner then hands him this thing that looks a lot like a rawhide bone, and says, “It’s a bull penis, kind of like rawhide, only lasts longer.”  I said to the guy, “Uh, I don’t think I feel comfortable with him chewing on a penis,” but Jack had already grabbed hold of it.  So now my dog is chewing on a penis.  This is not the way I envisioned my Saturday.

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