Its a new year and you know what that means: Resolution time! I'm not one of those people that makes a resolution and doesnt stick to it. I'm the kind of fella that resolves to achieve or exceed my personal goals. I know what your thinking to yourself right now..."whatever guy, you probably just set resolutions that any idiot could meet or exceed, like taking a shower twice a week or applying cologne in moderation. You probably dont set goals that take profound personal effort." Well I have two things to say to that my friend. One, applying cologne in large doses eliminates the need for showering...so your example is really just an example of how dumb you are. And two, the goals I set for myself are ones that would take an ordinary human being a good 6 or 7 years before they realized they could even dream of setting such an exceptional resolution for themselves.
So here are the things I hope to achieve in 2011:
1. No more eating from the garbage. No matter how delicious something looks...in 2011 if its in the garbage, its off limits.
2. Flossing...continuing to avoid it. But I am going to start lying straight to my dentist's face to get him off my case. I will look him dead in the eye and boldly claim that I have been flossing and therefore have not the slightest clue as to the source of my unbearable gingivitis. You figure it out genius!
3. I'm finally going to drop off my collection of used underwear to the goodwill. Its time it brought someone else as much joy as it brought me. Some really fortunate fella is going to get "the sure-thing" which is what I used to call this one particularly tight pair of briefs. When you put them on, you are guarunteed to get lucky at least 6% of the time. That's right, you're not gonna want to take them off. I know I never did.
4. Eating better. Wait sorry that's a typo. Its supposed to say eating butter. In 2011 I'm putting butter on everything. My cereal is gonna be 1000 times better than that crap I ate in 2010.
5. I am going to cut down on the number of times I'm arrested for indecent exposure. I havent decided if this means I'm cutting down on the number of attempts, or if I am just going to get better at not getting caught. Fewer State of California v. Hayes Magnuson means more money in the tax payers wallets. You're welcome californians. Now the favor ball is in your court.
6. I'm going to conquer my biggest fear of pooping my pants in an Applebee's. I'm finally just going to do it and get it over with. I need to prove to myself that the thought is way worse than the actual act.
7. Its time to start dressing better. In 2011 I'm not just gonna sit on the LL Bean website wondering "if only". No this year, its time to make those dreams a reality. Watch out fashionistas...hope you like flannel!
8. I'm going to be more assertive this year. If I'm in line at a starbucks and I'm craving a peppermint mocha frappicino with whip cream and chocolate shavings, I'm not gonna change my order at the last second out of shame and embarrassment because of what the people in line think of me. I will order it, turn around and punch the person behind me directly in the stomach and then boldly announce to the store: "the person who just got punched ordered a drink made for a lady and I had to right that wrong. In addition I will be stealing his drink so that he cant make the world any gayer!" I plan on walking out of that starbucks to a roar of applause.
I think that is all the resolutions I can handle for one year. If I were you reader, I would take a good long look at this list and then take a good long look at yourself and ask yourself, what do you need to do so one day you too can accomplish these seemingly impossible tasks. If you want to start small, you should probably resolve to avoid the San Diego Applebee's from January through late fall, unless of course you want to witness triumph first hand, then you should resolve to make it to Applebee's every single solitary night!
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Wine Selection
Sure I've been called a snob before. But what can I say, my taste is exquisite. I'm not going to apologize to you or anyone for having absolutely superior taste, style, and pest control techniques. So if I roll into McDonalds and the guy hands me my McRib and its not up to my impeccable standards then well I'm just going to throw it right back in his underacheving face and then wreck havoc on the place until they run out of individual ketchup packets for me to stomp on everywhere. Its just how I was raised and its the level I expect everyone else to adhere to, whether or not they are great friends or perfect strangers. Class it up a bit, world.
So naturally, when I am at a fancy dining establishment, I bring that class straight to the table. When the waiter comes and introduces himself, I skip straight over the pleasantries and start with the verbal grilling. Why wasn't I seated in the best seat in the house? Why did I have to wait so long for a table? Which one is the salad fork? Who's running this IHOP anyway? GET ME ANSWERS! This sets the tone for an elitest evening of deep and meaningful conversation without the stupid waiter interrupting by coming up every five minutes asking me to stop eating all the sugar packets.
Sure I've painted a mental picture for you that must equate to what you've imagined it to be like to dine with Kings and Dignataries. Very classy and something you will probably never experience. But let me let you in on a secret. The true way to showcase your sophistication is not to yell at the top of your lungs for everyone to be quiet so you can enjoy your cheesy breadsticks (although it never, ever hurts). The absolute foolproof method to displaying your undenaible worth is how you pick out wine at a restaurant. Then you too can share in my unobtainable level of snobbery!
Some people just skip right to the most expensive bottle. Come on rookies! That's a bush league mistake that I simply will not tolerate. You have to have an understanding of food pairing, past weather patterns in grape abundant areas, and an uncanny ability to spot the least expensive bottle quickly before anyone else has time to realize what it is.
Food pairing examples:
White Wine goes great with tacos
Red Wine goes great with Indian food
Red and White Wine mixed together is perfect when the main portion of the meal is hotdogs.
Tequilla goes great with Lean Cuisine. Sure its not a wine, but its a good tip nonetheless.
So boom, there is a fail proof food pairing selection method.
What happens next is by far the most important. The approval of the wine. Most people will swirl the wine in the glass, take a sip, comment on how oaky it is and be done with it. But I'm not most people and, in time, no longer will you be. I like to grab the bottle from the waiter's hands immediately as he gets to the table and tell him to step back and learn something. Something classy. I will pull the cork out, inspect it for visual pleasure, smell it for reasons I dont understand, and then put it in my mouth and see how far across the room I can launch it. The best wines have corks that will travel 15 feet and hit an old lady in the soup bowl.
Next I like to take a good long swig straight from the bottle. This helps me to understand the wine makers intentions on important things like taste and alcohol content. Then I like to throw just a little bit onto the carpet. What is the wine's staining power? A good wine will stain a carpet for years and years and I expect no less. Next, its important to let the wine breathe. Wine has been corked up for so long, its important to expose it to oxygen so that the taste can come alive. At this point I will usually take the wine bottle on a stroll around the restaurant while continuing to take long, physically impressive sips.
Next its important to understand the wine's ability to control your emotions. The best wines will immediately make you recall things that you despise about your boss, your kids, your neighbors, past boyfriends/girlfriends, how you're other siblings are doing so much better than you, why you cant hold down a job, why no one ever responds to your match.com profile, why you still live in your parents basement, etc. Its important to let the feelings out, just as it is important to let the wine out to breathe. So make sure you express all of these emotions to your dinner party as vehemently as humanly possible! They will respect you for what an incredible host you are for selecting such an emotionally charged wine!
The last step is obviously the most important. Repeat all the other steps at least 11 more times. The upper class society will respect your ability to party! Its why the rich keep getting richer.
If you need a visual demonstration, I am usually at IHOP around 4 pm on a daily basis just straight downing wine for all to see. COME ON BY AND LEARN SOME CLASS!
So naturally, when I am at a fancy dining establishment, I bring that class straight to the table. When the waiter comes and introduces himself, I skip straight over the pleasantries and start with the verbal grilling. Why wasn't I seated in the best seat in the house? Why did I have to wait so long for a table? Which one is the salad fork? Who's running this IHOP anyway? GET ME ANSWERS! This sets the tone for an elitest evening of deep and meaningful conversation without the stupid waiter interrupting by coming up every five minutes asking me to stop eating all the sugar packets.
Sure I've painted a mental picture for you that must equate to what you've imagined it to be like to dine with Kings and Dignataries. Very classy and something you will probably never experience. But let me let you in on a secret. The true way to showcase your sophistication is not to yell at the top of your lungs for everyone to be quiet so you can enjoy your cheesy breadsticks (although it never, ever hurts). The absolute foolproof method to displaying your undenaible worth is how you pick out wine at a restaurant. Then you too can share in my unobtainable level of snobbery!
Some people just skip right to the most expensive bottle. Come on rookies! That's a bush league mistake that I simply will not tolerate. You have to have an understanding of food pairing, past weather patterns in grape abundant areas, and an uncanny ability to spot the least expensive bottle quickly before anyone else has time to realize what it is.
Food pairing examples:
White Wine goes great with tacos
Red Wine goes great with Indian food
Red and White Wine mixed together is perfect when the main portion of the meal is hotdogs.
Tequilla goes great with Lean Cuisine. Sure its not a wine, but its a good tip nonetheless.
So boom, there is a fail proof food pairing selection method.
What happens next is by far the most important. The approval of the wine. Most people will swirl the wine in the glass, take a sip, comment on how oaky it is and be done with it. But I'm not most people and, in time, no longer will you be. I like to grab the bottle from the waiter's hands immediately as he gets to the table and tell him to step back and learn something. Something classy. I will pull the cork out, inspect it for visual pleasure, smell it for reasons I dont understand, and then put it in my mouth and see how far across the room I can launch it. The best wines have corks that will travel 15 feet and hit an old lady in the soup bowl.
Next I like to take a good long swig straight from the bottle. This helps me to understand the wine makers intentions on important things like taste and alcohol content. Then I like to throw just a little bit onto the carpet. What is the wine's staining power? A good wine will stain a carpet for years and years and I expect no less. Next, its important to let the wine breathe. Wine has been corked up for so long, its important to expose it to oxygen so that the taste can come alive. At this point I will usually take the wine bottle on a stroll around the restaurant while continuing to take long, physically impressive sips.
Next its important to understand the wine's ability to control your emotions. The best wines will immediately make you recall things that you despise about your boss, your kids, your neighbors, past boyfriends/girlfriends, how you're other siblings are doing so much better than you, why you cant hold down a job, why no one ever responds to your match.com profile, why you still live in your parents basement, etc. Its important to let the feelings out, just as it is important to let the wine out to breathe. So make sure you express all of these emotions to your dinner party as vehemently as humanly possible! They will respect you for what an incredible host you are for selecting such an emotionally charged wine!
The last step is obviously the most important. Repeat all the other steps at least 11 more times. The upper class society will respect your ability to party! Its why the rich keep getting richer.
If you need a visual demonstration, I am usually at IHOP around 4 pm on a daily basis just straight downing wine for all to see. COME ON BY AND LEARN SOME CLASS!
Monday, July 26, 2010
Dangerous For Society
I probably shouldnt even be talking about this. Its not something I'm quick to share with even my most close and personal friends. I just know that its something people who share my environment need to know about. People arent safe around me anymore. I need to warn people before its too late. Before its too late? It may already be too late.
I am in possession of a terrible weapon. One that could bring society to its knees. And no its not a tank, or a lot of tanks, or some kind of air breathing shark, or even a bunch of stink bombs tapped together. I'm talking about...windmill punches.
I dont know where I learned it. My best guess is that I was probably adopted by a monastary full of superhuman fighting monks who taught complete destruction was the only true path to righteousness and peace. Why else would I not remember anything before my 13th birthday. Sure doctors blamed it on my total addiction to eating glue, but wheres the proof...all my glue bottles are empty...yet this monk monastary remains undiscovered. Explain that why dont you, Science!
Its a constant internal battle. I walk around day in and day out caring inside me this mechanism of total chaos. I never know who or what will set it off. All I know is that everything just sort of goes black and the next thing I know my eyes are squeezed shut...I'm shrieking at the top of my lungs...and my arms are hurtling in 360 alternating arcs with my fists absolutely annhilating anything or anyone unlucky enough to get in their way.
Sure when I tell people about it they dont think its a real problem. They say mean things like, "Hey looney toons, seriously I dont care about your idiotic made up make believe horseshit. " Or "Hey bozo, quite talking to me you nutjob. Seriously, if you dont get away from me right now I will give you a real problem...one that rhymes with concussion" Or worse of all "Hey moron, your haircut makes you look like a lesbian."
But people dont realize that this is the real deal. Decent human beings are at risk. Take for instance the other day at Vons. I had a coupon for buy one get one free safeway brand mustard, which is my favorite. But that idiot at the cash register wouldnt honor the coupon because it was hand-written on a napkin. Whoa...BIG MISTAKE! All the sudden the store goes black and when I finally come to seven hours later, I was windmill punching the crap out of a bag of tostitos. It was then that I realized the store was completely abadoned. They actually closed down because of me. Where are people going to get groceries now?**
Or what about the time during my first christmas with my non-monk family? My mom let my brother, sister and I each open one present the night before christmas. My brother got a brand new teenage mutant ninja turtle...my sister got a my-size barbie...and what did I get you ask? A book titled..."Sure you're addicted to glue now, but it doesnt have to stick."
Rage.
So there I was windmill punching like my life depended on it in the living room. When I finally came to...my whole family was gone. I had literally windmill punched them into the next millenium. Imagine my grief knowing that I was going to have to grow up as an orphan. Who in their right mind would want to adopt a windmill puncher? It took me a good 3 minutes of sadness before I realized my whole family was just in the dinning room eating breakfast and I had just been windmill punching the christmas tree for the better part of 12 hours. But still, thats a lot of emotion for a young boy to handle in a short period of time.
So there you have it people. Be careful when you are around me. One minute I'm just your average guy with above average pectorials and the next minute I am a blur of fists and elbows knocking over your moms flower pots, accidently putting a hole in your drywall, and completely eradicating society as you know it.
**on a side note they opened the next day at 9 am. god bless those brave people. dont let me ruin your version of the american dream!
I am in possession of a terrible weapon. One that could bring society to its knees. And no its not a tank, or a lot of tanks, or some kind of air breathing shark, or even a bunch of stink bombs tapped together. I'm talking about...windmill punches.
I dont know where I learned it. My best guess is that I was probably adopted by a monastary full of superhuman fighting monks who taught complete destruction was the only true path to righteousness and peace. Why else would I not remember anything before my 13th birthday. Sure doctors blamed it on my total addiction to eating glue, but wheres the proof...all my glue bottles are empty...yet this monk monastary remains undiscovered. Explain that why dont you, Science!
Its a constant internal battle. I walk around day in and day out caring inside me this mechanism of total chaos. I never know who or what will set it off. All I know is that everything just sort of goes black and the next thing I know my eyes are squeezed shut...I'm shrieking at the top of my lungs...and my arms are hurtling in 360 alternating arcs with my fists absolutely annhilating anything or anyone unlucky enough to get in their way.
Sure when I tell people about it they dont think its a real problem. They say mean things like, "Hey looney toons, seriously I dont care about your idiotic made up make believe horseshit. " Or "Hey bozo, quite talking to me you nutjob. Seriously, if you dont get away from me right now I will give you a real problem...one that rhymes with concussion" Or worse of all "Hey moron, your haircut makes you look like a lesbian."
But people dont realize that this is the real deal. Decent human beings are at risk. Take for instance the other day at Vons. I had a coupon for buy one get one free safeway brand mustard, which is my favorite. But that idiot at the cash register wouldnt honor the coupon because it was hand-written on a napkin. Whoa...BIG MISTAKE! All the sudden the store goes black and when I finally come to seven hours later, I was windmill punching the crap out of a bag of tostitos. It was then that I realized the store was completely abadoned. They actually closed down because of me. Where are people going to get groceries now?**
Or what about the time during my first christmas with my non-monk family? My mom let my brother, sister and I each open one present the night before christmas. My brother got a brand new teenage mutant ninja turtle...my sister got a my-size barbie...and what did I get you ask? A book titled..."Sure you're addicted to glue now, but it doesnt have to stick."
Rage.
So there I was windmill punching like my life depended on it in the living room. When I finally came to...my whole family was gone. I had literally windmill punched them into the next millenium. Imagine my grief knowing that I was going to have to grow up as an orphan. Who in their right mind would want to adopt a windmill puncher? It took me a good 3 minutes of sadness before I realized my whole family was just in the dinning room eating breakfast and I had just been windmill punching the christmas tree for the better part of 12 hours. But still, thats a lot of emotion for a young boy to handle in a short period of time.
So there you have it people. Be careful when you are around me. One minute I'm just your average guy with above average pectorials and the next minute I am a blur of fists and elbows knocking over your moms flower pots, accidently putting a hole in your drywall, and completely eradicating society as you know it.
**on a side note they opened the next day at 9 am. god bless those brave people. dont let me ruin your version of the american dream!
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Modern Day Bank Robbers
Bank Robberies. We've all thought about it at one point or another. You're in line at your local Bank of America and you think, maybe I can fool this lady at the register that the pez dispenser in my pocket is actually a semi automatic weapon and that it would be best if she filled up a bag with clean, un-marked hunderd dollar bills. But then you remember something. Video cameras, silent alarms, laser trip wires, the difficult escape path through the velvet rope maze and lastly, that damn elderly security gaurd. Good luck with all that partner. Just go up to the counter and deposit the 20 dollars your grandmother sent you for your birthday and be on your way. Coward.
Modern day bank robbers are the last real american badasses. With every other business in the world getting wise to the wayward ways of the would-be robber, today's robbers have to be crafty.
Bank robbers of old had it made in the shade. You walk up to a wooden building with a big sign on top labeled "BANK". You reach into the window between the poorly spaced steel bars and you grab the bag with the large $$ sign on it. Then you walk away with no one the wiser. Seriously, if that was still the case today, I would never ever have to pay for my moons over mihami addiction again. Grab a bag once a week and you can practically live at Denny's for every single meal including brunch! YATZEE!
These days though, bank robbers have to be better prepared than ever.
1) You have to be flexible. Dont think you are showing up to a bank and stealing hundreds of thousands of dollars if you havent put in time at the local yoga studio. That barrage of criss-crossing, motion detecting lasers between you and your next tab at Denny's is not designed for the stiff of muscle. Why they dont just put up a solid wall of lasers that is literally impossible to cross is anyone's guess. But getting through to the cash is like a game of twister from hell. Better stretch out those hammies buddy.
2) You have to be ready to be ready to take some hostages. I'm not sure when the first hostage situation occured but it has to have been going on for a while now. Why dont people walk into these situations better prepared. If I was robbing a bank and my idiot friend was taking too long in the vault and the police surrounded the place, there is no way I am just giving myself up. I am taking hostages...and then I am throwing a party. Pack a back-pack with some party favors. I think it would be best to bring a couple bottles of tequilla and maybe a few costco-sized bags of chips and salsa. Dont forget to make a mixed cd or at least bring along an ipod and docking station. You are gonna be in there for a while...there is no sense in not making the time enjoyable. The hostages will be pissed at first, but when you break out your portable grill and your game of drinking jenga, I think everyone will warm up to the idea. "Never have I ever robbed a bank!" "OHH YES YOU HAVE... DRINK!!!!"
3) You have to be prepared to not have your demands met. Let's face it. I've seen enough bank robbery movies to know that the cops are not going to meet your demands. Unless hollywood has been lying to us for years and that in real life bank robbers get all kinds of great keep-sakes for their troubles, its just not gonna happen. But that doesnt mean you dont want to try. Aim low with your demands. Dont get your hopes up thinking you are gonna get a helicopter fueled and ready to take you to mexico. Maybe this is a perfect time to start adding to your wardrobe. Demand a new button down shirt from Nordstroms Rack. That's reasonable. Slightly damaged clothing isnt asking too much. Maybe a new pair of jeans. Are you low on dish soap? I'm sure you've been using the same sponge at your sink for months now. Maybe they could pay your cable bill for you. I'm sure you could probably even get your car detailed. Little stuff like that could actually make this situation work out for you. Just dont get too greedy.
4) Be prepared for the fact that you are probably going to spend a decent amount of time in jail. Its a fact law breaker. Banks are ready for you. That's why its best to just stick to robbing the same 7-11 day after day. Sure they only carry 50 dollars, but by day ten that is 500 dollars in your pocket. Plus add in the cost of all the slim jims and cheese filled hot dogs you cram into your pocket and you are sitting on a gold mine of almost 527 dollars! In just ten days! Trust me, that's the way to do it. Now go get 'em cowboy!
Modern day bank robbers are the last real american badasses. With every other business in the world getting wise to the wayward ways of the would-be robber, today's robbers have to be crafty.
Bank robbers of old had it made in the shade. You walk up to a wooden building with a big sign on top labeled "BANK". You reach into the window between the poorly spaced steel bars and you grab the bag with the large $$ sign on it. Then you walk away with no one the wiser. Seriously, if that was still the case today, I would never ever have to pay for my moons over mihami addiction again. Grab a bag once a week and you can practically live at Denny's for every single meal including brunch! YATZEE!
These days though, bank robbers have to be better prepared than ever.
1) You have to be flexible. Dont think you are showing up to a bank and stealing hundreds of thousands of dollars if you havent put in time at the local yoga studio. That barrage of criss-crossing, motion detecting lasers between you and your next tab at Denny's is not designed for the stiff of muscle. Why they dont just put up a solid wall of lasers that is literally impossible to cross is anyone's guess. But getting through to the cash is like a game of twister from hell. Better stretch out those hammies buddy.
2) You have to be ready to be ready to take some hostages. I'm not sure when the first hostage situation occured but it has to have been going on for a while now. Why dont people walk into these situations better prepared. If I was robbing a bank and my idiot friend was taking too long in the vault and the police surrounded the place, there is no way I am just giving myself up. I am taking hostages...and then I am throwing a party. Pack a back-pack with some party favors. I think it would be best to bring a couple bottles of tequilla and maybe a few costco-sized bags of chips and salsa. Dont forget to make a mixed cd or at least bring along an ipod and docking station. You are gonna be in there for a while...there is no sense in not making the time enjoyable. The hostages will be pissed at first, but when you break out your portable grill and your game of drinking jenga, I think everyone will warm up to the idea. "Never have I ever robbed a bank!" "OHH YES YOU HAVE... DRINK!!!!"
3) You have to be prepared to not have your demands met. Let's face it. I've seen enough bank robbery movies to know that the cops are not going to meet your demands. Unless hollywood has been lying to us for years and that in real life bank robbers get all kinds of great keep-sakes for their troubles, its just not gonna happen. But that doesnt mean you dont want to try. Aim low with your demands. Dont get your hopes up thinking you are gonna get a helicopter fueled and ready to take you to mexico. Maybe this is a perfect time to start adding to your wardrobe. Demand a new button down shirt from Nordstroms Rack. That's reasonable. Slightly damaged clothing isnt asking too much. Maybe a new pair of jeans. Are you low on dish soap? I'm sure you've been using the same sponge at your sink for months now. Maybe they could pay your cable bill for you. I'm sure you could probably even get your car detailed. Little stuff like that could actually make this situation work out for you. Just dont get too greedy.
4) Be prepared for the fact that you are probably going to spend a decent amount of time in jail. Its a fact law breaker. Banks are ready for you. That's why its best to just stick to robbing the same 7-11 day after day. Sure they only carry 50 dollars, but by day ten that is 500 dollars in your pocket. Plus add in the cost of all the slim jims and cheese filled hot dogs you cram into your pocket and you are sitting on a gold mine of almost 527 dollars! In just ten days! Trust me, that's the way to do it. Now go get 'em cowboy!
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Carnivals are not fun for competitive people with anger problems / inferiority complexes / wads of cash
If I could describe myself in one word, it would be: Athlete. Errr, Wait sorry that was a typo. I meant to say: Mathlete. But an athletic mathlete thats for sure. One time I ran around an entire city block before I collapsed from complete exhaustion. The EMT's that responded to my 911 call said it was the most ridiculous thing they had ever seen. They said they were leaving because it was so insanely idiotic they were even there in the first place. They didnt have to help me at all! That is the kind of elite level shape that I am in!
So naturally when I roll into the San Diego Fair that happens only once a year, I roll in their with the confidence of a highly trained Olympic athlete on all kinds of the best steriods.
So after I downed a completely inappropriate amount of fried chicken, friend biscuts, fried zucchini, fried twinkies, fried oreos, fried butter, fried lemonade, fried mustard, and fried toenail polish I headed straight for the games ready to dominate.
First up, basketball throw. Easy. I am the Lebron Bryant of Basketball so I figure, I'll take this chump's giant stuffed panda and then shove it in his big stupid face. So I give him a dollar. He hands me a basketball. He could have handed me a bowling ball and it wouldnt have mattered, I'm just that money. First shot, rims out. No big deal, I'm just getting the rust out. Second shot, off the backboard and out. Okay, now this is getting ridiculous. My mom didnt tell me I was the best and most handsome basketball player she had ever seen in her whole life for nothing. So I give him around 80 more dollars until finally I realize, what am I wasting my time on basketball for? I should be doing ring toss. I am the best ring tosser that has ever lived.
So the friendly ring toss fella tells me that for only 5 bucks he will give me two rings. I was like, dude have you seen how tight my t-shirt is, do you think I need 2 rings. You should give me a cheerio if you want to make this even remotely fair. But nonetheless, 5 bucks got me two rings. 10 bucks got me 4 rings. 10 more bucks got me 4 more rings. 10 more oh whatever, screw this stupid game, I am gonna go knock over bottles with a baseball.
That's right. Bottles, with a baseball. I was expecting it would be more like cement buildings with a ping pong ball. But I guess I'll play by the dumb carny rules, take all their beloved prizes, and make them live in a trailer traveling from town to town just to make ends meet cause they lost so much stuff to my un-clockable fastball. Long story short, this too does not go well for me. I've thrown out my arm. Hit an elderly lady. Said the F-word incredibly loud in front of a group of children a record 14 different times. Hit another elderly lady. And finally punched that stupid carny in his stupid fat face.
So by this point, I'm down a good 600 dollars. To say that I am born anew in a state of being that consists of nothing but blind pulsating rage would be like saying fried butter is delicious. Understatement. Fried butter is the most delicious thing on the planet. And I have the most rage on the planet. But it may also just be the fried butter stomach ache that is reaking havoc on my lower half like the north dominating the south during the civil war. Either way, I am not stoked right now. What's left to do but play the balloon blow up game.
I walk right up to the guy and I say, listen buddy you better f&$%ing let me win. (What I actually say, while fighting back tears, is: Listen buddy, please let me beat my girlfriend so I can win her a stuffed toy and not look like a complete life failure) But I dont think he heard me, cause when we started, my balloon barely inflated and her balloon exploded like a freaking gernade.
So after all this...all my money gone...all my tendons shredded...all my tears expelled from my face...after it all, my girlfriend gets to hand me a stuff toy and say..."See, what was so hard about that."
That my friends, is why you should never, ever, ever go to the carnival if you even remotely think you are halfway decent at sports.
Now I am gonna have to throw out my coveted 8th place fencing trophy that I won in the 4th grade. I obviously dont deserve it. Stupid carnys and their stupid fat faces.
So naturally when I roll into the San Diego Fair that happens only once a year, I roll in their with the confidence of a highly trained Olympic athlete on all kinds of the best steriods.
So after I downed a completely inappropriate amount of fried chicken, friend biscuts, fried zucchini, fried twinkies, fried oreos, fried butter, fried lemonade, fried mustard, and fried toenail polish I headed straight for the games ready to dominate.
First up, basketball throw. Easy. I am the Lebron Bryant of Basketball so I figure, I'll take this chump's giant stuffed panda and then shove it in his big stupid face. So I give him a dollar. He hands me a basketball. He could have handed me a bowling ball and it wouldnt have mattered, I'm just that money. First shot, rims out. No big deal, I'm just getting the rust out. Second shot, off the backboard and out. Okay, now this is getting ridiculous. My mom didnt tell me I was the best and most handsome basketball player she had ever seen in her whole life for nothing. So I give him around 80 more dollars until finally I realize, what am I wasting my time on basketball for? I should be doing ring toss. I am the best ring tosser that has ever lived.
So the friendly ring toss fella tells me that for only 5 bucks he will give me two rings. I was like, dude have you seen how tight my t-shirt is, do you think I need 2 rings. You should give me a cheerio if you want to make this even remotely fair. But nonetheless, 5 bucks got me two rings. 10 bucks got me 4 rings. 10 more bucks got me 4 more rings. 10 more oh whatever, screw this stupid game, I am gonna go knock over bottles with a baseball.
That's right. Bottles, with a baseball. I was expecting it would be more like cement buildings with a ping pong ball. But I guess I'll play by the dumb carny rules, take all their beloved prizes, and make them live in a trailer traveling from town to town just to make ends meet cause they lost so much stuff to my un-clockable fastball. Long story short, this too does not go well for me. I've thrown out my arm. Hit an elderly lady. Said the F-word incredibly loud in front of a group of children a record 14 different times. Hit another elderly lady. And finally punched that stupid carny in his stupid fat face.
So by this point, I'm down a good 600 dollars. To say that I am born anew in a state of being that consists of nothing but blind pulsating rage would be like saying fried butter is delicious. Understatement. Fried butter is the most delicious thing on the planet. And I have the most rage on the planet. But it may also just be the fried butter stomach ache that is reaking havoc on my lower half like the north dominating the south during the civil war. Either way, I am not stoked right now. What's left to do but play the balloon blow up game.
I walk right up to the guy and I say, listen buddy you better f&$%ing let me win. (What I actually say, while fighting back tears, is: Listen buddy, please let me beat my girlfriend so I can win her a stuffed toy and not look like a complete life failure) But I dont think he heard me, cause when we started, my balloon barely inflated and her balloon exploded like a freaking gernade.
So after all this...all my money gone...all my tendons shredded...all my tears expelled from my face...after it all, my girlfriend gets to hand me a stuff toy and say..."See, what was so hard about that."
That my friends, is why you should never, ever, ever go to the carnival if you even remotely think you are halfway decent at sports.
Now I am gonna have to throw out my coveted 8th place fencing trophy that I won in the 4th grade. I obviously dont deserve it. Stupid carnys and their stupid fat faces.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
EMERGENCY EARTHQUAKE PLAN
You're lying in bed, watching tv, waiting with intense anticipation to see who will get kicked off the Bacholerette tonight. Or perhaps you are sitting on the couch, eating a sandwich, talking to an old friend on the phone about who they think will get kicked off the Bacholerette tonight. Or even, you could be alone in your room, wearing ladies underwear and high heels singing Dream On by Aerosmith, while watching the Bacholerette of course. I mean, come-on, your not a crazy person. All of these are great options to spend your time. None of them however prepare you for the following:
Suddenly the house starts to shake. The pictures on the wall sway and finally crash to the ground. The dishes in the cupboard rattle like never before. Its really happening. Its an earthquake. Do you have a plan to get yourself, and your family safely to a computer to update Facebook?
"Earthquakes happen when you least expect them," says senior seismologist Ryan"San-Andreas" Cunningham. "Take the other day for instance. I was mowing the lawn minding my own business when the stupid lawn mower shoots a stick into my shin. I bend over to rub my leg and hit my head on the mower handle causing me to stumble back and step into some dog poo. I immediately look down and make an exaggerated sigh and swing my fist absentmindedly into the air, hitting a hornets nest. I ran to the door as fast as I could only to realize I locked myself out of the house. I did what any able minded person would do and dove through my nieghbors window, landing right on their lifelong collection of thumb tacs from around the world."
"Man," I thought, "What's next, an earthquake? But guess what, didnt happen. Point Proven."
This is why every person needs an emergency plan for when a big one strikes. You dont want to be in your living room when the foundation of your house starts to give way and you get that deep terrible gut wrenching feeling that you left your computer upstairs. How will anyone on the internet know you just survived a magnitude 3.72!
That's why its important every family sits down and discusses a detailed plan. Daddy runs to his smart phone, Mommy grabs the lap-top, Junior uses his I-phone and Sally bravely sits at the family's desk top computer as the walls shake and crumble around her. This way, all of your avenues for a proper facebook update are covered. The family back in Wisconsin is never going to believe this!
Also, for safety reasons, its recommended that you get between a doorframe. And Bonus! Being inbetween two rooms helps with the wi-fi connection. It also adds to the depth of your post.
"Man, thank god I made it to the doorframe just in time. My keys rattled right off my dresser. I cant even imagine what would have happened had I been sitting under that dresser. CRAZIEST. QUAKE. EVER."
That's right folks. Its so important to plan for these things. Earthquakes will always be with us, but updating your facebook status is as fleeting as a piece of dust in the wind. Be Smart. Be Prepared.
Suddenly the house starts to shake. The pictures on the wall sway and finally crash to the ground. The dishes in the cupboard rattle like never before. Its really happening. Its an earthquake. Do you have a plan to get yourself, and your family safely to a computer to update Facebook?
"Earthquakes happen when you least expect them," says senior seismologist Ryan"San-Andreas" Cunningham. "Take the other day for instance. I was mowing the lawn minding my own business when the stupid lawn mower shoots a stick into my shin. I bend over to rub my leg and hit my head on the mower handle causing me to stumble back and step into some dog poo. I immediately look down and make an exaggerated sigh and swing my fist absentmindedly into the air, hitting a hornets nest. I ran to the door as fast as I could only to realize I locked myself out of the house. I did what any able minded person would do and dove through my nieghbors window, landing right on their lifelong collection of thumb tacs from around the world."
"Man," I thought, "What's next, an earthquake? But guess what, didnt happen. Point Proven."
This is why every person needs an emergency plan for when a big one strikes. You dont want to be in your living room when the foundation of your house starts to give way and you get that deep terrible gut wrenching feeling that you left your computer upstairs. How will anyone on the internet know you just survived a magnitude 3.72!
That's why its important every family sits down and discusses a detailed plan. Daddy runs to his smart phone, Mommy grabs the lap-top, Junior uses his I-phone and Sally bravely sits at the family's desk top computer as the walls shake and crumble around her. This way, all of your avenues for a proper facebook update are covered. The family back in Wisconsin is never going to believe this!
Also, for safety reasons, its recommended that you get between a doorframe. And Bonus! Being inbetween two rooms helps with the wi-fi connection. It also adds to the depth of your post.
"Man, thank god I made it to the doorframe just in time. My keys rattled right off my dresser. I cant even imagine what would have happened had I been sitting under that dresser. CRAZIEST. QUAKE. EVER."
That's right folks. Its so important to plan for these things. Earthquakes will always be with us, but updating your facebook status is as fleeting as a piece of dust in the wind. Be Smart. Be Prepared.
Sony's Newest and Most Awesome TV Yet!
Hey there consumer. Still watching that 3-D television like an idiot? Are all your friends and neighbors constantly talking about you and laughing at you behind your back because they think you must be a time traveler cause the only reason you watch a lame ass 3-D TV is because you're from the past? 3-D TV's are sooo May 2010. And, news flash, last time I checked it was June 2010. Wake up! Stop living in the past, my man! Its time to start living in the now.
"3-D is great, because it gives the illusion of really being in the television program you are watching," says Sony executive vice president, Daniel Armstrong. "But its just been missing that extra something. That is...UNTIL NOW!"
Introducing Sony's newest television viewing experience. The 4-D Television.
For far too long tv's have only stimulated 3 senses: Sight, Hearing and Boredom. Last time I checked, we have nearly 11 senses and science is predicting we've only found the tip of the senses iceburg! That's why Sony technologies has successfully invented the ultimate home theater! It has booming sound! BOOOM! It has a crystal clear 1080i screen with a complete 3-D experience. CLARITY! And lastly, it has Steve, the 4th dimension technician who will move into your home with you to ensure every program is viewed to its sensory peak.
Watching a show about dolphins? Every 10 minutes or so, Steve will throw a cup of water in your face! Just like you were swimming with real live dolphins! Astounding!
Watching your favorite afternoon program, COPS? Steve will run across the room and tackle you every single time someone gets arrested. Its like your really there! Just no life annoying life sentence afterwards!
Oprah fan are you? Steve will sit on the couch holding your hand and cry the whole time with you. And look under your seat. Did Oprah leave you one of her favorite things under there? OH MY, a gift just for you! But dont thank Oprah. Steve will wrap up a little something so you can open up presents just like you were a real Oprah Audience member. Hope you like dog food!
Watching an exciting forensic show on tv, such as CSI Miami? Well during particularly intense shoot outs, Steve will fire on you mercilessly with a paintball gun from practically point break range until a commercial break. Better hope that commercial doesnt involve automatic weapons, HA!
In the mood for something scary. Steve will leave you alone while you watch these. He doesnt usually like scary movies. Either that or he is just finding the perfect place to hide in your closet so that right before you fall asleep he can jump out dressed like a madman with a chainsaw and pretend murder you! You can relive the unbelievable terror you experienced just moments before! Spectacular!
Watching a romantic comedy with that special someone? Steve will run his fingers through your girlfriend's hair and rub her shoulders for hours telling her how beautiful she is and how underappreciated she is and how good she looks in the light of a 4-D television and how no-one understands her like Steve does and how Steve's parents have an island in the Carribean and Steve can go there like anytime he wants.
Upset that Steve hooked up with your girlfiend? Put on some UFC and get rid of that extra anger with some gratitous violence. Oh, watch out for Steve now. Looks like he's got that choke hold on you pretty good there. Probably best not to fight it and just pass out already.
Angry that Steve took your unconscious body and threw it in the trashcan outback, changed all the locks to your house and moved in with your girlfriend? Well, you wont get that level of emotions on a plain old ordinary 3-D tv, I'll tell you that right now.
Buy the Sony 4-D TV and stop simply watching TV and start LIVING TV!
Also, it is recommeded that you set aside a small corner in a room of your choice for Steve to live in. Make sure Steve is well fed. Try to avoid direct eye contact with Steve. Don't discipline Steve if you catch him stealing money from your purse. Steve is a talker so make sure you are a listener. Steve doesnt like bright lights, loud music, or waking up before noon. Steve requires hot water in his shower, so dont shower first if you dont have a dependable water heater. But most of all Steve loves to love! He also loves tv and will make sure you do too!*
*Sony enterprises recommends you do not watch any shows with the following themes:
Gangs
High Speed Car Races
Vampires
War Fighting
Blunt Objects
Fire
Football Games
Soft Core Pornography
Sorcocery
Sharp Objects
Water in excess of 10 gallons.
Deadliest Catch
and many many others.
"3-D is great, because it gives the illusion of really being in the television program you are watching," says Sony executive vice president, Daniel Armstrong. "But its just been missing that extra something. That is...UNTIL NOW!"
Introducing Sony's newest television viewing experience. The 4-D Television.
For far too long tv's have only stimulated 3 senses: Sight, Hearing and Boredom. Last time I checked, we have nearly 11 senses and science is predicting we've only found the tip of the senses iceburg! That's why Sony technologies has successfully invented the ultimate home theater! It has booming sound! BOOOM! It has a crystal clear 1080i screen with a complete 3-D experience. CLARITY! And lastly, it has Steve, the 4th dimension technician who will move into your home with you to ensure every program is viewed to its sensory peak.
Watching a show about dolphins? Every 10 minutes or so, Steve will throw a cup of water in your face! Just like you were swimming with real live dolphins! Astounding!
Watching your favorite afternoon program, COPS? Steve will run across the room and tackle you every single time someone gets arrested. Its like your really there! Just no life annoying life sentence afterwards!
Oprah fan are you? Steve will sit on the couch holding your hand and cry the whole time with you. And look under your seat. Did Oprah leave you one of her favorite things under there? OH MY, a gift just for you! But dont thank Oprah. Steve will wrap up a little something so you can open up presents just like you were a real Oprah Audience member. Hope you like dog food!
Watching an exciting forensic show on tv, such as CSI Miami? Well during particularly intense shoot outs, Steve will fire on you mercilessly with a paintball gun from practically point break range until a commercial break. Better hope that commercial doesnt involve automatic weapons, HA!
In the mood for something scary. Steve will leave you alone while you watch these. He doesnt usually like scary movies. Either that or he is just finding the perfect place to hide in your closet so that right before you fall asleep he can jump out dressed like a madman with a chainsaw and pretend murder you! You can relive the unbelievable terror you experienced just moments before! Spectacular!
Watching a romantic comedy with that special someone? Steve will run his fingers through your girlfriend's hair and rub her shoulders for hours telling her how beautiful she is and how underappreciated she is and how good she looks in the light of a 4-D television and how no-one understands her like Steve does and how Steve's parents have an island in the Carribean and Steve can go there like anytime he wants.
Upset that Steve hooked up with your girlfiend? Put on some UFC and get rid of that extra anger with some gratitous violence. Oh, watch out for Steve now. Looks like he's got that choke hold on you pretty good there. Probably best not to fight it and just pass out already.
Angry that Steve took your unconscious body and threw it in the trashcan outback, changed all the locks to your house and moved in with your girlfriend? Well, you wont get that level of emotions on a plain old ordinary 3-D tv, I'll tell you that right now.
Buy the Sony 4-D TV and stop simply watching TV and start LIVING TV!
Also, it is recommeded that you set aside a small corner in a room of your choice for Steve to live in. Make sure Steve is well fed. Try to avoid direct eye contact with Steve. Don't discipline Steve if you catch him stealing money from your purse. Steve is a talker so make sure you are a listener. Steve doesnt like bright lights, loud music, or waking up before noon. Steve requires hot water in his shower, so dont shower first if you dont have a dependable water heater. But most of all Steve loves to love! He also loves tv and will make sure you do too!*
*Sony enterprises recommends you do not watch any shows with the following themes:
Gangs
High Speed Car Races
Vampires
War Fighting
Blunt Objects
Fire
Football Games
Soft Core Pornography
Sorcocery
Sharp Objects
Water in excess of 10 gallons.
Deadliest Catch
and many many others.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
History Impresses The S&%t Out Of Me
History has always fascinated me. History classes in school were full of wonder and excitement with stories telling of adventure, exploration, and inventiveness. At least I think they were, I was too busy dominating at pogs to worry about stupid things like school and friends and getting my scoliosis looked at. But thank God for Wikipedia. It got me caught up on everything history related so I'm good to go now knowledge-wise.
One history story in particular that I love is about a little known man named Christopher Columbus, aka Billy "Eagle-Eye" Simmons. (Wikipedia pg 13.) He and his band of traveling gypsies took a zodiac across the Atlantic and settled on a little town called Pizza Hut. (Wikipedia pg 17) Here they settled and it became the birthplace of Rock and Roll music and Guacamole. A few weeks later, Eagle-Eye changed his name to Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young and went on to become the best selling rock and roll artist in the history of the world. (Wikipedia pg 22)
Hold on, none of this sounds right, I'll check out Wikipedia and sort this mess out.
Okay, I'm back. That page has been deleted. The new page says the real story is that Christopher Columbus landed on the Bahamas Archipelago. The story goes that the indigenious people did not like ol Chris and were set to kill him dead. Being a learned man of learning (such as myself, post pogs) he was keenly aware that a solar eclipse was coming. He warned the people that if he was killed, he would steal their sun. A little bit later, the eclispe occured, exactly as he had predicted. The natives were fearful of this man who could steal suns, and were kind to him and the eventual Spanish settlers.
Now, I was thinking about that. Even today, in 2010, I have the weather channel, weather.com, CNN, foxnews, TMZ, IPOD applications, calculators, HBO, asian friends, and everything else a person could surround themselves with to be well informed. I could not with-in a decade guess the date of the next solar eclipse. So for those fellas back in 1492, that was A) extremely lucky and B) extremely smart and C) makes me feel extremely like an idiot.
I think about what I would have done if I found myself in that exact same situation, with my same current unawareness of meterological phenomenons. I'm pretty sure it would have gone a little something like this:
Native: You are white, we dont like you, and now you are gonna die.
Me: Well, that sucks, are you sure you really want to do that?
Native: Yes, absolutely sure. Its not like you are going to steal our sun or anything like that last guy. Keeping you alive makes no sense. You have a terrible haircut and your clothes went out of style in 1398. Yep, no you definitely have to die.
Me: Well, I wouldnt do that if I were you.
Native: Oh really, why is that.
Me: (Reaching my hand out and tugging lightly on his nose) Cause I..........got your nose!
Native: (Sees my thumb sticking out between my middle and index finger, but believes it is the tip of his nose) WHAT!?!? NO!?!? NOT MY NOSE!?!??! Oh god no, my nose is gone this is terrible, terrible news. Curse you, you stealer of noses.
Me: Oh you want your nose back. (pretend to hand to him then pull away) Oooppp bup bup bup. Its too bad you have to kill me, cause you'll probably never get your nose back now if you do.
Native: Okay okay, you can live, please mister, just give me back my nose. I wish to smell again.
Me: Fine, here take back your nose. But (turning to the now cowering crowd) that is a warning to all you who see this today, that if any of you lays a hand on me, my band of gypsies, or my zodiac, I can...and will... take from you your nose! And if you are already missing your nose...I will pull random things from behind your ear! Do not test me!
I'm thinking that would have worked out pretty well and I am 100% sure I would be regarded as their King for at least the rest of my life. Ol' solar-eclipse guessing Chris Columbus was never made king of anything. Some people just have no ambition.
The rest my friends, as they say, is History. And you can read all about it on Wikipedia.
One history story in particular that I love is about a little known man named Christopher Columbus, aka Billy "Eagle-Eye" Simmons. (Wikipedia pg 13.) He and his band of traveling gypsies took a zodiac across the Atlantic and settled on a little town called Pizza Hut. (Wikipedia pg 17) Here they settled and it became the birthplace of Rock and Roll music and Guacamole. A few weeks later, Eagle-Eye changed his name to Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young and went on to become the best selling rock and roll artist in the history of the world. (Wikipedia pg 22)
Hold on, none of this sounds right, I'll check out Wikipedia and sort this mess out.
Okay, I'm back. That page has been deleted. The new page says the real story is that Christopher Columbus landed on the Bahamas Archipelago. The story goes that the indigenious people did not like ol Chris and were set to kill him dead. Being a learned man of learning (such as myself, post pogs) he was keenly aware that a solar eclipse was coming. He warned the people that if he was killed, he would steal their sun. A little bit later, the eclispe occured, exactly as he had predicted. The natives were fearful of this man who could steal suns, and were kind to him and the eventual Spanish settlers.
Now, I was thinking about that. Even today, in 2010, I have the weather channel, weather.com, CNN, foxnews, TMZ, IPOD applications, calculators, HBO, asian friends, and everything else a person could surround themselves with to be well informed. I could not with-in a decade guess the date of the next solar eclipse. So for those fellas back in 1492, that was A) extremely lucky and B) extremely smart and C) makes me feel extremely like an idiot.
I think about what I would have done if I found myself in that exact same situation, with my same current unawareness of meterological phenomenons. I'm pretty sure it would have gone a little something like this:
Native: You are white, we dont like you, and now you are gonna die.
Me: Well, that sucks, are you sure you really want to do that?
Native: Yes, absolutely sure. Its not like you are going to steal our sun or anything like that last guy. Keeping you alive makes no sense. You have a terrible haircut and your clothes went out of style in 1398. Yep, no you definitely have to die.
Me: Well, I wouldnt do that if I were you.
Native: Oh really, why is that.
Me: (Reaching my hand out and tugging lightly on his nose) Cause I..........got your nose!
Native: (Sees my thumb sticking out between my middle and index finger, but believes it is the tip of his nose) WHAT!?!? NO!?!? NOT MY NOSE!?!??! Oh god no, my nose is gone this is terrible, terrible news. Curse you, you stealer of noses.
Me: Oh you want your nose back. (pretend to hand to him then pull away) Oooppp bup bup bup. Its too bad you have to kill me, cause you'll probably never get your nose back now if you do.
Native: Okay okay, you can live, please mister, just give me back my nose. I wish to smell again.
Me: Fine, here take back your nose. But (turning to the now cowering crowd) that is a warning to all you who see this today, that if any of you lays a hand on me, my band of gypsies, or my zodiac, I can...and will... take from you your nose! And if you are already missing your nose...I will pull random things from behind your ear! Do not test me!
I'm thinking that would have worked out pretty well and I am 100% sure I would be regarded as their King for at least the rest of my life. Ol' solar-eclipse guessing Chris Columbus was never made king of anything. Some people just have no ambition.
The rest my friends, as they say, is History. And you can read all about it on Wikipedia.
Don't Mess With Vegas Protocol
Vegas. Its a get out of jail free kind of town. Do whatever you want. Whenever you want. However you want. Feel like standing through the sunroof of a limo yelling swear words at pedestrians while you chug a bottle of tequilla? Itchin to roam free in the streets with a yard glass of pure grain alcohol wearing nothing but a speedo? Dying to squirt a homeless guy in the face with a bottle of Mustard? Well you certainly arent gonna do these things in New Hampshire my friend. For that kind of craziness, you gotta head to Vegas.
Vegas is the ultimate "do as you feel" town. There aren't rules or laws anywhere, more like general guidelines, such as: Dont take a cop's taser gun and shoot a stranger in the face with it. Frowned upon. Pooping in public is tolerated, but definitely not officially sanctioned. Also, I'm fairly certain there is a speed limit on the streets, but whatever. Yes, Vegas is the only place where the one rule is that there are no rules...except at the tables in the casino.
This is the only place in Vegas where rules are enforced with the absolute strictest sense of the word. Keen table manners are an absolute must. Here is an excerpt from last week to prove my point.
Dealer: Congratulations sir, you have 21.
Me: Why thank you garcon, let me just reach across and grab those chips from you.
Dealer: Sir, you cannot grab the chips until I remove your cards.
Me: Oh, sorry didnt really realize there are rules here.
Dealer: Well be mindful it doesnt happen again.
Me: Okay well here is a tip for you for the twenty-one
(I attempt to hand him a one dollar chip)
Dealer: Please place it on the table and slide it over to me.
Me: Wow really, thats a rule too. Do you guys have these rules posted somewhere.
Dealer: No, this is Vegas. Players are expected to be gentlemen.
Me: Reeeeally, cause I am 100% certain that I just saw the guy sitting next to me do a line of blow off of a dead guy's arm. I'm pretty sure he is a coke-head and possibly a zombie. The dude across the table over there just exposed himself to a senior citizens convention for over an hour. And I saw a guy earlier who was having his kids eat handfuls of dirt outside the hotel because he needed to save money for the tables. So I'm pretty sure I'm in the clear here with the whole gentleman situation.
Dealer: Well, point taken sir. Just be mindful of the rules.
(Deals another pair of cards, I have 15, he has an ace facing up...standard)
Me: Hit me.
Dealer: Sir, you must scratch the table with your fingers towards you if you would like another card. Its the sign for hit me. Are you certain you are a qualified enough gentleman to even be in Vegas? Your table prowess is quite sub par.
Me: Seriously guy? My table prowess is subpar? That dude over there at the roulette table just full-on peed on a slot machine thinking it was a urinal. That fella over there just punched a waitress in the face cause he said being named Holly is bad luck in December, nevermind that its June. And if the guy next to me doesnt stop taking off his underwear and putting in in his mouth, I'm seriously gonna flip my s*&t. Where am I failing at this gentlemanly issue.
Dealer: Well sir, aside from your horride table manners, you also have been playing this entire time without any pants on, you have a piece of pepperoni stuck to your face that smells like its been there for 2 days, and I keep seeing your picture on the news because a warrant is out for your arrest for pooping in public. I wouldnt call that gentlemanly, would you?
Me: Well my good man, I cant argue with that. But, in my defense, I can say that I could have sworn pooping in public was simply just frowned upon.
Dealer: Ah those were the good old days!
Me: I'll say!
Vegas is the ultimate "do as you feel" town. There aren't rules or laws anywhere, more like general guidelines, such as: Dont take a cop's taser gun and shoot a stranger in the face with it. Frowned upon. Pooping in public is tolerated, but definitely not officially sanctioned. Also, I'm fairly certain there is a speed limit on the streets, but whatever. Yes, Vegas is the only place where the one rule is that there are no rules...except at the tables in the casino.
This is the only place in Vegas where rules are enforced with the absolute strictest sense of the word. Keen table manners are an absolute must. Here is an excerpt from last week to prove my point.
Dealer: Congratulations sir, you have 21.
Me: Why thank you garcon, let me just reach across and grab those chips from you.
Dealer: Sir, you cannot grab the chips until I remove your cards.
Me: Oh, sorry didnt really realize there are rules here.
Dealer: Well be mindful it doesnt happen again.
Me: Okay well here is a tip for you for the twenty-one
(I attempt to hand him a one dollar chip)
Dealer: Please place it on the table and slide it over to me.
Me: Wow really, thats a rule too. Do you guys have these rules posted somewhere.
Dealer: No, this is Vegas. Players are expected to be gentlemen.
Me: Reeeeally, cause I am 100% certain that I just saw the guy sitting next to me do a line of blow off of a dead guy's arm. I'm pretty sure he is a coke-head and possibly a zombie. The dude across the table over there just exposed himself to a senior citizens convention for over an hour. And I saw a guy earlier who was having his kids eat handfuls of dirt outside the hotel because he needed to save money for the tables. So I'm pretty sure I'm in the clear here with the whole gentleman situation.
Dealer: Well, point taken sir. Just be mindful of the rules.
(Deals another pair of cards, I have 15, he has an ace facing up...standard)
Me: Hit me.
Dealer: Sir, you must scratch the table with your fingers towards you if you would like another card. Its the sign for hit me. Are you certain you are a qualified enough gentleman to even be in Vegas? Your table prowess is quite sub par.
Me: Seriously guy? My table prowess is subpar? That dude over there at the roulette table just full-on peed on a slot machine thinking it was a urinal. That fella over there just punched a waitress in the face cause he said being named Holly is bad luck in December, nevermind that its June. And if the guy next to me doesnt stop taking off his underwear and putting in in his mouth, I'm seriously gonna flip my s*&t. Where am I failing at this gentlemanly issue.
Dealer: Well sir, aside from your horride table manners, you also have been playing this entire time without any pants on, you have a piece of pepperoni stuck to your face that smells like its been there for 2 days, and I keep seeing your picture on the news because a warrant is out for your arrest for pooping in public. I wouldnt call that gentlemanly, would you?
Me: Well my good man, I cant argue with that. But, in my defense, I can say that I could have sworn pooping in public was simply just frowned upon.
Dealer: Ah those were the good old days!
Me: I'll say!
Friday, June 4, 2010
24 Hr Fitness Membership Cancelation
I used to belong to 24 hr Fitness, a sports and fitness club that is open 24 hrs a day. Why did I stop going you ask? If you ask any woman, there is a time when a man can become too muscular. You go day in and day out, pushing yourself to the limits, striving to achieve your goals of peak muscular performance and then, BAM!, you overdid it. Its almost as if all that hard work backfires on you after a while. Well, that man is named Mark, and he used to hang me on a hook by my underwear in the locker room while he would skim through my ipod and point out every single Celine Dion song. Excuse me Mark. Sorry she's so talented Mark. Why dont I just call her up tomorrow and ask her to stop being the most incredible singer in the whole f&%$ing world MARK!
Prior to that, I joined 24 hr Fitness because like any other able bodied man, I wanted to be able to defend myself when things start to get rough. You never know when you are going to walk out of VONS and some girlscout peddling Tag-a-longs starts getting a little over agressive. If you cant deliver a decisive "I dont want yo Samoas" kick to the stomach, then before you know it, you are out 5 bucks my friend. And that's five bucks you could have put towards pizza.
So when I realized this self defense ability was something I truly wanted, I needed to figure out just where I stood in the scheme of things, ass-kicking-wise. So I started sizing up friends and relatives, neighbors and strangers, bus drivers and homeless people to see just who I could deliver the beat down of a lifetime to. I realized that if I was gonna get in a fight and actually win, it was gonna either have to be with an elderly blind woman or a trash can. Not a bad starting point.
So I walked right into the 24 Hr Fitness front office and demanded I be granted admission. The guy was very friendly and informative and we finally settled on a deal of 179 dollars a month with unlimited use of the water fountain. He wanted 180 bucks a month, but hey, learn how to haggle bud haha. Idiot.
I showed up the first couple of days ready to get to it. I did the standard 24 Hr Fitness routine I saw all the other guys doing: grab a dumbbell, set it on the ground, look at yourself in the mirror for 12 minutes, do 4 bicep curls while grunting, set weight on the ground, 12 more minutes in the mirror. Repeat for 2 hours. I was pumped. I was fitting right in. Except for the work out clothing fashion.
I was under the impression due to numerous Under Armor commercials, that if I was gonna protect this house, I was gonna need to do it in an 80 dollar sweat-whisking-away super tee. After all, you dont want to stare at yourself in the mirror for 12 minutes at a time when you have pit stains. You get nothing out of it. Why even buy a gym membership? But apparently at 24 hr Fitness, they promote achieving your ideal body while looking sweet. Hair Gel? Must. Board Shorts? You bet. Flip Flops? You cant squat thrust in tight, restrictive tennis shoes. Sleeves? You might as well be wearing an astronaut suit. So I hit up my local Sun Diego surf shop and got all the work out clothes I could possibly use in a lifetime.
But then I started noticing something. The gym is packed during the after-work rush from 5 to 8 pm. There almost isnt enough mirror for everyone. People have to bring in hand held mirrors and table spoons to see the results of their bicep curls. But the gym is empty until around midnight. That's when things get strange. The people that come in; they actually work out. They never look at themselves in the mirror. They wear t-shirts, mesh shorts, and holy hell they even wear sneakers.
I had to ask myself, what kind of people want to be all covered up, never look in the mirror and only work out at night. Then it dawned on me. Vampires. 24 hour fitness is a haven for super-toned, core focused, blood-sucking vampires. I'm lucky I got out of there alive.
So that is the real reason I gave up my 24 hr gym membership. Vampires. It has nothing to do with the time I was having trouble bench pressing the bar with two 10 lbs weights on each side only to have it drop on my sternum and cause me to soil myself. It had absolutely nothing to do with that at all. SO SHUT UP ABOUT IT ALREADY MARK!
Prior to that, I joined 24 hr Fitness because like any other able bodied man, I wanted to be able to defend myself when things start to get rough. You never know when you are going to walk out of VONS and some girlscout peddling Tag-a-longs starts getting a little over agressive. If you cant deliver a decisive "I dont want yo Samoas" kick to the stomach, then before you know it, you are out 5 bucks my friend. And that's five bucks you could have put towards pizza.
So when I realized this self defense ability was something I truly wanted, I needed to figure out just where I stood in the scheme of things, ass-kicking-wise. So I started sizing up friends and relatives, neighbors and strangers, bus drivers and homeless people to see just who I could deliver the beat down of a lifetime to. I realized that if I was gonna get in a fight and actually win, it was gonna either have to be with an elderly blind woman or a trash can. Not a bad starting point.
So I walked right into the 24 Hr Fitness front office and demanded I be granted admission. The guy was very friendly and informative and we finally settled on a deal of 179 dollars a month with unlimited use of the water fountain. He wanted 180 bucks a month, but hey, learn how to haggle bud haha. Idiot.
I showed up the first couple of days ready to get to it. I did the standard 24 Hr Fitness routine I saw all the other guys doing: grab a dumbbell, set it on the ground, look at yourself in the mirror for 12 minutes, do 4 bicep curls while grunting, set weight on the ground, 12 more minutes in the mirror. Repeat for 2 hours. I was pumped. I was fitting right in. Except for the work out clothing fashion.
I was under the impression due to numerous Under Armor commercials, that if I was gonna protect this house, I was gonna need to do it in an 80 dollar sweat-whisking-away super tee. After all, you dont want to stare at yourself in the mirror for 12 minutes at a time when you have pit stains. You get nothing out of it. Why even buy a gym membership? But apparently at 24 hr Fitness, they promote achieving your ideal body while looking sweet. Hair Gel? Must. Board Shorts? You bet. Flip Flops? You cant squat thrust in tight, restrictive tennis shoes. Sleeves? You might as well be wearing an astronaut suit. So I hit up my local Sun Diego surf shop and got all the work out clothes I could possibly use in a lifetime.
But then I started noticing something. The gym is packed during the after-work rush from 5 to 8 pm. There almost isnt enough mirror for everyone. People have to bring in hand held mirrors and table spoons to see the results of their bicep curls. But the gym is empty until around midnight. That's when things get strange. The people that come in; they actually work out. They never look at themselves in the mirror. They wear t-shirts, mesh shorts, and holy hell they even wear sneakers.
I had to ask myself, what kind of people want to be all covered up, never look in the mirror and only work out at night. Then it dawned on me. Vampires. 24 hour fitness is a haven for super-toned, core focused, blood-sucking vampires. I'm lucky I got out of there alive.
So that is the real reason I gave up my 24 hr gym membership. Vampires. It has nothing to do with the time I was having trouble bench pressing the bar with two 10 lbs weights on each side only to have it drop on my sternum and cause me to soil myself. It had absolutely nothing to do with that at all. SO SHUT UP ABOUT IT ALREADY MARK!
Half Marathon Training
Maybe its just me, but when I think of Half-stuff, I think of only good things. Like when your buddy wants to go halfs on the bill. Or when your mom cut your sandwhich in half for school. Or when your sentencing for a major felony gets cut in half because you were able to escape because that stupid wardon only has half a brain!
See, only good things come to mind. But apparently when you're training for a half marathon, the only thing that comes to other people's mind is that you are a fancy-pantsed little pansy.
Total A-hole: "Oh hey, hear you are doing the rock and roll marathon, good for you!
Me: "Yeah, it should be fun. I'm not much of a long distance guy, but I'm going for it!"
Total A-hole: "That's cool. Yeah I remember when my mom and grandma ran their first marathon, they said it was great but by mile 17 my grandma said she was getting alittle tired but she recovered by mile 18 and at the end she was able to do an all out sprint to the finish. Everyone was so impressed cause, you know, her being 70 and all. So make sure you push past that 17th mile. I promise it's worth it. Grandma couldnt stop talking about how easy it was after that!"
Me: "Well, I wont really have to worry about that since I'm only doing the half marathon. But mile 8 is definitely pretty tough. My legs start hurting and I think I may need a new pair of shoes."
Total A-hole: "Yeah, like high heels you princess."
Me: "You got a lot of nerve talking to me like that, old lady"
Total A-hole: "Yeah well you got a lot of nerve wearing men's clothes when your obviously a little bitch."
Me: "Well how about you get punched in the face, by ME!"
Total A-hole: "Bring it on, little man!"
And that is the story about why I am never allowed back in a Pottery-Barn.
Is that what we were talking about? I cant remember cause of the concussion. Man that old lady was a super dirty fighter. What kind of old lady carries around a set a brass knuckles and a black jack? Good foresight on her part.
Wish me luck on the half marathon Sunday!
See, only good things come to mind. But apparently when you're training for a half marathon, the only thing that comes to other people's mind is that you are a fancy-pantsed little pansy.
Total A-hole: "Oh hey, hear you are doing the rock and roll marathon, good for you!
Me: "Yeah, it should be fun. I'm not much of a long distance guy, but I'm going for it!"
Total A-hole: "That's cool. Yeah I remember when my mom and grandma ran their first marathon, they said it was great but by mile 17 my grandma said she was getting alittle tired but she recovered by mile 18 and at the end she was able to do an all out sprint to the finish. Everyone was so impressed cause, you know, her being 70 and all. So make sure you push past that 17th mile. I promise it's worth it. Grandma couldnt stop talking about how easy it was after that!"
Me: "Well, I wont really have to worry about that since I'm only doing the half marathon. But mile 8 is definitely pretty tough. My legs start hurting and I think I may need a new pair of shoes."
Total A-hole: "Yeah, like high heels you princess."
Me: "You got a lot of nerve talking to me like that, old lady"
Total A-hole: "Yeah well you got a lot of nerve wearing men's clothes when your obviously a little bitch."
Me: "Well how about you get punched in the face, by ME!"
Total A-hole: "Bring it on, little man!"
And that is the story about why I am never allowed back in a Pottery-Barn.
Is that what we were talking about? I cant remember cause of the concussion. Man that old lady was a super dirty fighter. What kind of old lady carries around a set a brass knuckles and a black jack? Good foresight on her part.
Wish me luck on the half marathon Sunday!
Put the Kids to Bed, Blog Time has Begun!
Hey there campers! Just starting my first blog. Expect great things! Okay well, more likely, expect mediocre things! Okay really dont expect anything at all. Just read and maybe every once and a while you will be surprised, and possibly even uncontrollably aroused!
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