tune out

I don’t watch Lost, nor do I ever intend to.

I just don’t get it.  I don’t understand why everyone thinks this show is so great.  I feel like the kid in Flight of the Navigator – I woke up one day and I was the same, but everyone around me was different.

I mean, it’s a show about people stranded on an island.  In present day.

This kind of thing doesn’t happen.  People don’t get lost on islands, let alone time-shifting ones that harbor castaways who don’t take their ties off. It just doesn’t happen.

I think, though I might be wrong, that if I got stranded on an island and I was wearing a tie, the first thing I would do (aside from crying like a little girl) is take my damn tie off.

Also, Lost has been done before.  It’s a complete rip-off of Gilligan’s Island.

That’s right.  Gilligan’s Island.  That was the first show about people who got stranded on island and, of course, the hilarious hi-jinks that ensued.

And at least that show was believable because it was set in the 60’s, a time when it was still socially acceptable to eat excessive amounts of acid, rub your naked butt on someone else’s naked butt and think that James Bond movies are “far out.”

But don’t let me stop you from watching Lost.

I’m sure it’s fine in that it doesn’t make you want to gut yourself, but as for me, I think I’ll stick to shows that are more intellectually stimulating.

Like Keeping Up with the Kardashians.

lucky me

In case you’re Sad Inside All The Time, and didn’t realize – this Sunday is the Super Bowl.

Because I grew up in Pittsburgh, I am completely obsessed with all things Steelers, so that means at the end of the game I’ll either be dead if they lose, or crying tears of joy if they win.

I’m not too worried about having to throw myself off the Brooklyn Bridge though, because I’m confident in my team, and I’m confident in my dirty underwear.

You see, as a fan, I’m morally obligated to do certain things that can/will help my team win, and my list includes, but is not limited to:

1. Text “Game Day.” to my friends who are Steelers fans as soon as I wake up, even if it’s at 8 AM.  This may or may not upset them.
2. Buy two tall boy cans of Coors Light.  I must start drinking right at kick off, not a moment before.
3. Drink these beers from my special Steelers glass that is kept on the right side of my freezer until I take it out.  I hear Bill Gates does this and look where it got him.
4. Put on the same clothes that I wore during their first playoff win weeks ago. Yes, that means the same boxer briefs, the same sweatpants, the same t-shirt and the same jersey.  All unwashed of course.  Everyone knows washing them negates all the stored up luck.
5. Tuck in the Troy Polamalu jersey on my left side.  This helps with beer consumption and high fives, as there is no extra clothing in my way.
6. Place my designated Game Day Terrible Towel on my right leg.  No not my left, don’t be ridiculous.
7. Rub my dog’s head before a play that I’m nervous about.  He can bite me if he wants; he is not bound by this list.
8. Yell and punch my couch when something bad happens to the Steelers.  I assume this is Ari and my neighbor’s favorite one.

As you can see this list is quite logical and everything on here, when done correctly, helps the Steelers win.

Of course if the Steelers lose on Sunday, you’ll never hear from me again, because I will kill myself.

But let’s hope that doesn’t happen.  Okay?

get what you want

I like to think of myself as a pretty influential guy, but I’m not sure I really am.

I think that when I tell people about a movie I enjoyed, they take that to heart and go see it. But I imagine what really happens is that they smile and nod and then two minutes later forget what we were talking about.

And I guess I’m okay with not being able to sway people’s thoughts, because it takes a special person to be able to do this.  There are really only a handful of people throughout history who have this ability.

Of course the first person that comes to mind is the kid who made the very first snowman.

Think about a snowman.

It’s three mounds of snow piled on top of each other, with a carrot and some other random stuff used to represent limbs, or in the case of Unique Snowmen, genitals.

They don’t look like a person at all.

Yet somehow, even though it looks nothing like it’s supposed to, it remains a semi-relevant figure in our world today.  Kind of like Tara Reid.

Whoever the kid was who made the first snowman had to be able to influence people in a major way.

Johnny: [Looking upon the first ever snowman] “Uh, Carl?  That doesn’t look like right.  I mean, it’s just three piles of snow.”

Carl: [Turning to Johnny] “Oh, it’s a person alright.  And you know why? Because I say so and because if you don’t tell everyone that this looks exactly like a person, I’m going to tell Cindy Lawson about how you still wet the bed.”

Johnny: [Starting to cry, and unfortunately, starting to dampen his pants] “I get nervous sometimes!”

Obviously Carl was a master of persuasion.

From then on every time a little kid sees snow falling to the ground, he thinks of rolling a bunch of snow together to form a big hunk of crap that doesn’t resemble what it’s supposed to in any way.

I wish I could be more like Carl, but sadly, I get nervous sometimes too.

unnecessary

This morning while I was on the treadmill and I couldn’t help but wonder if my knees were too small for my legs.  

I was all set to write a post about that thrilling observation, but luckily for you I saw a feature on the news that caught my eye:  Apparently there’s a gym uptown that encourages its patrons to take a nap after the yoga class that is taught there.

There were shots of people being tucked in after the class, then testimony from the instructors about how beneficial it was for people to sleep and, in essence, drool on the floor while dreaming about whether they really do like grapes or just think they like grapes.

Well this is just a brilliant plan.

Look, I know about 98.7% of my readers are women, and you might not want to hear this – but yoga is fucking boring enough as it is, telling people to take a nap afterward is kind of redundant.

Yes, yoga is difficult, but it is mind-numbingly boring.  

You do a move and then you sit there.

You do a move and then you sit there.

And on and on until you’re so bored you start thinking the old woman’s butt in front of you isn’t that bad.  But maybe that’s just me.

Having people take naps after yoga is like telling someone to watch Renée Zellweger movies, you’re just encouraging stupidity.

Why doesn’t the gym just give out complimentary cheeseburgers at the door?

If you’re going to take a nap after working out, just stay home.  Okay?  Leave the gym for the rest of us who are serious about working out, especially those of us who may or may not need extra time for bulking up their knees.

hanging tough, staying hungry

I’m getting married this coming September, and my fiancee Ari and I have been busy planning the wedding, which mostly involves her telling me about things I never knew about, like “color schemes” (weird) and the fact that she needs a wedding band in addition to the engagement ring (weirder).

For the most part I’m fine with everything, but the more and more we plan, the more and more I realize that there is absolutely nothing happening for me that day.

Everyone knows that the wedding is all about the bride, but I’ve taken it upon myself to suggest to Ari on numerous occasions, that this wedding should be different.  I don’t even want drastic changes, I just want a song.

That’s all – just a song.

The bride typically gets to march down the aisle and have everyone look and think she’s great, right?  Well, that’s what I want.

I want to march down the aisle, and I want to march down it to this:

Vodpod videos no longer available.

more about “Eye of the Tiger“, posted with vodpod

That’s right – “Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor.  That epic fight song that fueled Rocky when he defeated Ivan Drago, will also fuel me as I walk down the aisle.

It’s the perfect song.

It’s all about rising above adversity (dating) defeating a bitter rival (psycho ex-boyfriend) and ultimately triumphing when no one thought you could (getting married means I’m finally mature, right?).

The way I picture it is the second the first note blasts from the speakers, I kick open the doors and come trotting inside the room.  As I make my way down the aisle, maybe I point at a couple people who believed in me, then get some high fives as I take my place up front.

This is something that needs to happen.  This will make my wedding unique and give me something to finally be excited about.  You know, aside from the actual getting married part and all that.

pure insanity

Last night on my way home from work, I somehow found a seat on the train without having to shove anyone to the ground, which made me happy.

Then, as I took my seat, ready to think about how I only have to make it through one more day before the weekend and the weekend is good even though when you wake up on Saturday morning it’s basically over, I noticed a woman standing in front of me, directly in front of the door.

Which made me unhappy.

It wasn’t anything she was wearing, and it wasn’t like she was singing loudly or anything like that, she was just… standing there.

I thought to myself, “Oh, well, clearly she’s just waiting for the next stop and that’s why she’s standing directly in front of the door and not off to the side.”

But then we arrived at a stop, and she just stood there.

So then I thought, “Oh, well, she’ll get off at the next stop.  This is fine.  You’re okay with this.  Let’s think about your dog’s ears.  Yes.  That makes you happy.”

But then another stop went by, and she was still… just… standing there.

And this is when I lost my mind.

I started fidgeting and looking around, thinking that someone had to be seeing this and what the hell is wrong with this woman???

I went over in my mind if I would ever just stand in front of the door for stops and stops and stops like some kind of mad man instead of just stepping aside and being more comfortable and I decided no!

No!

Then I started cursing the woman’s very existence with thoughts like, “What, does she think she’s better than me??? What, she doesn’t need to sit like everyone else??? Because I could stand too!  I’m not, but I could, dammit!”

Then we arrived at another stop, and she got off the train.

I settled down a little after that, but c’mon, it was still pretty weird.

some relaxation, aside from the impending death

Last night I watched a TV show called “I’m Not Supposed To Be Alive” on Animal Planet.  

It’s about people who get attacked by animals and somehow make it out alive (awesome), and last night’s episode detailed the story of some vacationers in Africa who get stranded in the middle of a river once their boat capsizes.

One of the guys decides to attempt to swim to shore to go get help, even though at the moment, there are about 458 crocodiles in the river.

Of course the others with him question whether this is a good idea, saying that he’ll be sure to get killed.  This struck me as odd, because my questions revolving around this trip would’ve started when my friend brought up the very idea of “vacationing” on a river infested with crocodiles, not when someone was about to die.

The guy finally convinces them their only hope is for him to swim, so he does.  And he almost makes it – until he does something that is not very bright.

He arrives at the shore, only to spot a crocodile about ten feet away from him.  So instead of running away from the crocodile, which I think is probably Rule Number One in the How To Not Get Eaten By A Crocodile Guide, the man goes back into the water and approaches the big lizard thing.

The crocodile, realizing that this man is not as smart as the zebra that evaded him during brunch earlier, promptly chomps the man’s arm and tries to eat him.

Eventually the man gets away by puncturing some sort of hole in the crocodiles mouth, and everyone gets rescued by some random people who happen to pass by on the river, meaning the guy did all of that for nothing.

Now everyone is happy to be alive, and I was happy to have heard about a crocodile attack, but the issue still remains – what the hell was wrong with that guy who went after the crocodile?

I guarantee that when everything settled down and that group of friends hung out again – that guy was not making any decisions.

When he suggested a bar – they went to a different one.

When he told everyone he knew about a party – they decided to go home instead.

That guy has officially given up all merit as a decision maker.  If he couldn’t figure out that attacking a crocodile is worse than running from a crocodile, there is no way he can be allowed to influence others ever again.

In fact, I bet he’s the one who suggested vacationing on a death river in the first place.

it’s all in the reflexes

Because the guy who was training me to box recently left my gym, yesterday I decided to go to a boxing gym for the first time.

I was nervous to say the least, because 1) I’m not tough 2) I’m not good at boxing and 3) I act like both #1 and #2 are incorrect.  

As I walked to the building I decided that I needed to put as much Manliness in my brain as possible, so I put on some Rage and hoped that somehow my training would involve questions about Peruvian guerrilla operations.

Once I entered the building I got on the elevator going down instead of up, where the gym is located.  I took that as A Good Sign.

When I finally found the gym, the first thing I saw was a picture of the gym’s owner, along with Roy Jones Jr. and Christian Slater.

Christian Slater!

Obviously, I was way more intimidated by Christian Slater than Roy Jones Jr., because hello?  Dude was in Young Guns II.

Shaking my pure awe of Christian Slater being in the same gym as I was, a trainer approached me and suggested that I start with three rounds of jump roping.  So that’s what I did.  And that’s when I realized jumping rope for three minutes straight is hard and sometimes makes me angry.

After that was done, the trainer and I did some work on the bags and inside the ring. Once inside the ring, where the trainer repeatedly told me “stop leaning!” and kind of laughed when I told him I was a writer, I figured something else out about myself:  I was the second worst boxer in the entire gym, narrowly beating out the desk near the entrance.

As my time wound down I asked my trainer for some water, but because the gym didn’t have a water fountain (I assume this is because boxers don’t need wussy water) I had to buy a bottle of water.  Of course my cash was in my locker, so the trainer told me I could pay on the way out.  

Once we were finished I thanked my trainer for making me feel like I was going to die, washed up then headed out.

I will definitely be going back because boxing is just too much fun.  And as for upping my toughness factor, let’s just say I might have left without paying for that bottle of water.

Let’s see Christian Slater top that.

r.i.p.

If you feel, for some strange reason, that today is a good day – you’re mistaken.

I realize that it’s Tuesday and you’re wearing your favorite socks. And some guy is being sworn in and it’s great and there’s a strong possibility that he won’t be a complete fucking idiot, but listen to me – today is not a good day.

It’s not a good day because when Obama takes over, there will be no more Bush jokes.

No longer can you attend a party and, upon realizing you don’t have any of your typical crowd-pleasing weather-related jokes ready, drop a Bushism and get laughs from everyone.

No more explaining that someone “misunderestimated” you.

No more telling your friends who work in finance that “It’s clearly a budget. It’s got a lot of numbers in it.”

No more soothing your vegan buddy by saying, “I know the human being and fish can coexist peacefully.”

No more.

Sadly, today marks the beginning of a man who appears capable of not saying the stupidest thing possible at the stupidest time possible.

Obama, unfortunately, is a smart man.

He thinks before he speaks and his speeches rival the one in Braveheart (though the Braveheart speech still has the edge because it makes me want to fight for the honor of something.  And maybe start wearing a kilt).

Today is not a good day. Today is out with the dumb, and in with the intelligent.

Goodbye George Bush, you were, well, you were good to us.

The Internets will miss you.

thanks

I’m not going to be around today, but I wanted to post something real quick thanking everyone who voted for me for Funniest Blog on 20 Something Bloggers.  This is how my Sunday ended:

1. Drank and yelled a lot about the Steelers game.  Also, punched the couch at least six times.  This is how Intelligent Men prove a point.
2. Saw the Steelers clinch the win with an interception by the best safety in the league, Troy Polamalu.  You read that right Ed Reed.
3. Got a text from Alexa telling me that I won Funniest Blog.
4. Drank and yelled more, only this time about happy things.  Decided to leave the couch alone, figuring it learned its lesson.

Anyway, thanks again to everyone who voted and everyone who reads my crap, I appreciate it.  I’ll be back tomorrow with more hard-hitting analysis of the discovery of methane gas on Mars and what it means for the future of the automotive industry.  Or maybe I’ll just talk about how Paul Blart: Mall Cop was the number one movie over the weekend which clearly indicates The End Of Days is upon us.