Blogging Like I've Never Blogged Before

Wednesday, June 30, 2004

Apparently, Courtney Love needed to shut down her web site, due to lack of funds. “Courtney can no longer fund the site, our server has been suspended, and we need to come up with $5,000 to get it back online,” reads a plea on

Just get a blog, ya crazy bitch.

I believe that it is time for Courtney to give up Frances Bean. Give the girl a fighting chance. Her father killed himself and her mother is a nut. I propose that Frances Bean be put on eBay.

In other news, Mary-Kate's publicist is denying the rumors that she is in drug rehab. Says her longtime publicist, Michael Pagnotta, "Mary-Kate Olsen is being treated for an eating-related disorder."

Apparently she's only been eating cocaine.

Thank you. Good night.

You will soooon be getting sleeepyyy. I mean, more than you already are.

You see Jesse, with me as the DJ, and you the rapper, we could totally rock the black vote. Check it. Wickety wickety wack! We could get Sharpton to get the crowd to say, "Oh yeah!" Want to hear me do a beat box?

For the last time, I am not dead. And to prove that, I will raise my right hand. But only slightly. I'm so tired.

In case you walk by me and smell something weird, I just thought I'd let you know that smell is Hollywood!

Over the last two months, I've seen Nicolas Cage, Willie Hung, Madonna, and then yesterday, I am sitting on the L train going to 6th Avenue when I see this pretty little thing walk on the train.

Wow. She looks a lot like Amelie, I thought to myself. So I kept looking at her, then her friend said something to her and she smiled and I thought, That is Amelie. Ain't no mistaking that smile.

Audrey Tautou. She sat next to this jerk next to me. So I was one person away from her. Damn, she is pretty. Of course, I was all stalker-like and tried to get a photo of her with my phone, but I fucked up and didn't save it. If you take a photo, you need to save it right away, or else it's gone forever. My photo of Amelie is gone forever. But the memory remains!

I wanted to say something but she was with a friend and they were talking. I thought about going up to her and saying "Hi Esther" just to see what kind of reaction I would get. Any time I see a celebrity from now on, I think I'll just say "Hi Esther" and take a picture with my phone.

So this lady is one of the biggest actresses in France. She's like their Meg Ryan, only with talent. Yet here she is riding the L train. That's crazy. Madonna goes through town with a police escort in a gas guzzling SUV, but French Meg Ryan is content to slum it with the likes of me.

I believe that's what you would call, Keepin' it real. Or as the French would say, Keepin' it le real.

I'm not so good with French.

A friend of mine named Josh used to talk about how much he hated Meg Ryan, and that she would act like Sally from When Harry Met Sally in every movie. He would call every movie she was in a different title. Here are some examples:

When a Man Loves A Woman -- Sally Drinks Too Much
Sleepless In Seattle -- Tom Hanks Likes Sally
Courage Under Fire -- Sally Goes to War
You've Got Mail -- Sally Gets Email

That was funny stuff, Josh. Email me more often, jerk.

I would like to thank a reader, who I think is named Marinos, who sent me this link. For those who might not believe that it was Madonna in the picture I took, you can see the fellow in the passenger seat is also in the picture I just linked to. And I think you can see the mustache of the other guy (sweet 'stache, bro). Also the girl in that photo with the red skirt is the girl that I said was smiling towards me after I took the photo.

I am officially vindicated!

I saw Fahrenheit 9/11 last night. Not sure what I'll say about it just yet, so I'll type and see what happens.

Before I get to the actual movie, I'll comment on the audience. Very crowded for a Monday afternoon. A big theater about three quarters of the way full. You figure a documentary about politics would keep the riff-raff away. Yet, some fool brought their baby. Please check your baby at the door. Let the concession guys take care of your baby. They can rest it in the popcorn bin. Babies don't belong in movie theaters, especially one that is showing images of war. Not because the baby will be traumatized, but because the theater will be filled with adults that want to punch you because your baby is crying.

Then a guy's cell phone rings and he answers it and starts talking pretty loudly. Everyone immediately says something to him. He then hangs up and turns his phone off, but come on. How fucking stupid are you?

Then there was this baby who was talking on a cell phone.

Anyway, the movie. (This is me from the future. I just finished writing this, but it's too long and disjointed to post here. You can read all about it on my SuperSecret blog.)

I will let you know that I snuck into Dodgeball after Fahrenheit. Funnier than I expected. Usually those movies are funny in the beginning, but then get tiresome. This one actually got funnier later in the movie. Not as funny as The Day After Tomorrow, but still worth a couple of belly laughs.

"To get this handed over two days early is like a child getting a gift two days before Christmas. Except instead of something cool, like a PlayStation or a puppy, we've gotten a giant exploding pile of shit. But still, you know. It's the thought that counts. Thanks again, America."

Bush: So I says to Bremer, I says, 'Give it to 'em now,' right? We don't want it no more, heh heh heh.
Blair: Oh that is devilishly brilliant!

OK, so here is the map. Over to the left here, that's Craptown. Lots of slums, but no real trouble. Their spirit's broken. Up here to the north is Murderburg. You know, your kidnappings and beheadings, run of the mill terrorism. And down here to the south is where all the insurgents are holed up with their rockets. We call that WhatTheFuckDidWeGetOurselvesIntoAndWhatAreThesePeopleStillFightingForVille. You might just want to bomb the shit out of it. Wait until I leave though. I don't want my name tied to that.

"Enjoy your sovereignty, suckers! Peace, I'm outta here!"

If you are here for the Madonna photo/story, click here.

Due to the Madonna/Esther sighting, my blog has gotten lots of action. I feel like Madonna's vagina in 1992.


I kid. I think she is a very nice person, based on our encounter. And I would like to thank gawker, stereogum and madonnalicious. All of these nice people linked to me and drove thousands here. You are welcome to stick around (although I probably just alienated lots of hard-core Madonna fans with that joke up there).

Anyway, there have been a few who have said, "That doesn't look like Madonna at all." My sister is included among these people. How dare you! Granted, it's not the best quality, but it's clearly Madonna. You can even kind of see the space between her teeth. And I have witnesses. Also, the folks at Drowned Madonna have a close up of the Material Girl (you will have to scroll down a bit). If it weren't for that Ray of Light on her face, there'd be no question. Get it? Ray of Light? Like the song. Ray of Light. It's a song by Madonna. Get it? It's a good song. You get it, right? Good.

Actually, if I wasn't the one who took the picture, I'd question it myself. If anyone sees an interview with Madonna where she mentions the guy who said "Hi Esther" and how she wants to meet him now, please let me know.

Something else that's funny is that I upset some American Idol fans. Someone in an MSN chat room or group or something called "Kelly Clarkson Express" had this to say about me and my blog:

Ahaha - well, that would have made my day if you had cut out the WH (William Hung) part. Ahaha! Gotta wonder about that blogger though. He didn't seem like he was being sarcastic when raving about WH. Ahhh - that worries me. Do ya think there may be more out there just like him (buying his horrible um ... music?) Again, Ahhhhh!!!

Yes, I wasn't being sarcastic at all when I said about William Hung, "William Hung is the greatest hero our nation has ever seen."

Nope. Not a bit of sarcasm there.

Another awesome thing about this is another Mike Toole found my blog. Many people get to this blog looking for this Mike Toole. But this other Mike Toole is an anime guy, something which I have no knowledge of, so his fans search for him and get here. It's cool and weird to have someone with your own name email you. And we're both 28. Maybe we were separated at birth. Or perhaps I was cloned.

Mike Tooles of the world, unite! With his knowledge of anime, and my blind luck of running into celebrities, there's no telling what we could do together! We could... um. We could take pictures of... let's see, what can we do? Anime + camera phones. Well, I'll think of something, but rest assured, it will be fucking awesome. That's right... your rest is assured. I am assuring your rest.

I've also gone global, thanks to a site titled "Madonna is lucky star for everybody".

She sure is my lucky star as far as blog traffic goes. I've gotten a lot of emails from Madonna fans who are very jealous of me. I feel kind of bad that they didn't get to see her. Way to not be in the right place at the right time, suckers!

My goal now for this blog is to attain candid celebrity photos. Although I think the only thing that might get more people here than Madonna, is a photo of Michael Moore making out with George W. Bush. Or maybe Barbara Bush. That'd be awesome.

I'm done talking about Madonna for now.

All Hail Hung!!!!

Not to turn this into a celebrity spotting blog, a gawker if you will, but I need to post this.

I left work today and was chatting it up with two co-workers. It was a beautiful day so I decided I was going to walk down to 14th street. I normally get on the subway at 49th, so today I was skipping that. At 47th street and 7th, we had a DON'T WALK sign, so we did not walk. As we waited, there was a siren coming from the right. It wasn't like a normal police or fire siren, but one of those that go, "WOOP! WOOPWOOP!" Which translates to get out of the way. They are usually reserved for diplomats and dignitaries. Crap like that.

The weird thing about this one is that behind this SUV that was WOOPing was another SUV with a woman sticking out of the sunroof with a camcorder. She seemed to point it in our direction, and as they drove by I stared at her and said, "Is that Madonna?"

The reply was "Yes, that's Madonna."

Holy crap! And lucky me, I have my camera phone on me! And I have a blog that people read!

They made a right onto 7th and were stuck in traffic, so I made my way towards her with my phone at the ready. Without warning, they darted two lanes to the left and hauled ass through the light. But as anyone knows, you aren't getting too far in midtown at 4:30 in the afternoon. Luckily, they got stuck on the next block in more traffic. God bless Times Square gridlock. I bid adieu to my co-workers and jogged up to the superstar. I Froggered through a few lanes of taxis to get next to the SUV. I held up my camera, just as she put down her camera, she looked at me, seeming kind of freaked out. I then said, "Hi Esther." She then said "Hi" and went back down into the car.

YES! Madonna just talked to me.

Anyway, here is the photo.

And look! She's smiling, quite possibly laughing. I made Madonna laugh. If I had just said "Hi Madonna" I probably would have gotten the shit pumped out of me by that guy in the passenger seat who looks like he wants to rid me of my shit, in the form of a beating. But because I said Esther, she dug it. When they started driving again, I looked back and there was another woman in the back seat with Esther, and she was looking at me and smiling. I was hoping they'd invite me into the car with them and we'd go on some sort of Gotham Sex Romp, but no such luck.

Oh well. Still a good picture. If I had my old phone with me, all I could have done was maybe throw it at her, or ask if she'd like to play a game of "Snake" or "Memory". I wish I had my real camera so I could have gotten a better picture, but I was charging the batteries.

I'll always have William Hung.

(Also, I take back what I said the other day. Madonna, er, I mean Esther, is still hot.)

Another thing I love about the photo is that she is right in front of a McDonald's which segues perfectly into the post below this one.

Last night I saw Super Size Me. I thought I'd have a lot more to say about it, because as I was watching it, I had a lot to think about. I'm not sure what to say about it, though. It's enjoyable and mighty scary to see what McDonald's can do to a man.

If you are not familiar with the film, basically a perfectly healthy guy eats nothing but McDonald's for one month. And I do mean nothing. There is one point where his nutritionist tells him, "I really wish you'd take a multi-vitamin." He replies, "I don't think they sell those at McDonald's."

About three weeks in, one of his three doctors tells him that if he continues at this pace, he could die. His liver became that fucked up. It was insane. Granted, most people don't eat that much McDonald's, but the fact that it has that potential is frightening. Even the doctor said something like, "I knew this was not a good idea, but these results are appalling." And oh yes, he gained 25 pounds. In a month.

Watching this movie was like one of those "Scared Straight" programs. I think I may never eat at McDonald's again. Or at least the next month. Or this week. Well, regardless, I promise you I will not eat McDonald's today.

Anyway, you should see the film, and if you are a health teacher at a middle school or a high school, you should show it to your students. And you should also lobby your school to serve good food to kids, rather than shovels full of shit and sugar.

Anyway, there was another point in the movie where the guy woke up at 2 AM and he was describing symptoms he was having, which totally reminded me of my heart palpitations. So once again, I'm asking for a voluntary nutritionist.

I don't think it matters what your political leaning is... this is damn funny no matter what.

Patton Oswalt is one of the funniest people in the world right now. I'm not sure why he's not more famous. Oh well.

Even crazy people set their alarms.

This morning on the train, a man came in to let everyone know how awesome God is. He was annoying. Not God, this guy. He was loud and boisterous. Doing a lot of yelling. Normally, people will just let the guy go off on his rant and ignore him. I had my headphones to drown him out. Other people don't peek up from their NY Post or the Daily News. At one point he started saying, "I know God's People are on this train. I see that." I wanted to say, "Maybe so, but it's quarter to seven and we are all Very Tired God's People. Please shut up."

I said nothing and assumed that everyone else would remain silent. But today, there was another guy who decided to fight back. I'm not exactly sure what he said, but it was in the vain of "Shut the fuck up, you crazy bastard. No one wants to listen to you."

So the God guy then says, "Oh, yes, that is expected. I understand that. The devil is angry."

Holy crap! God vs. the Devil on the N train! And I was there!

So now God Guy is going on and on about lots of weird stuff. I took my headphones off because this was actually getting interesting. He said, "If you thought 9/11 was bad, you have seen nothing yet. The Bible says there will be hurricanes and earthquakes..."

The Bible sounds an awful lot like The Day After Tomorrow.

Anyway, the thing with these Bible Bangers is that they always start bringing up weird shit, then somehow tying it to what they deem as evil. The train pulls into 57th street and he starts saying, "We live on this Earth with all of this water. The Earth is round, not flat, you notice? And there is water above us and below and on all sides. How does it not fall out? Because God is holding it in."

Interesting theory. He continued, "But He can't hold it forever. It will soon fall out, because of evils like homosexuality and... homosexuality is evil."

That was all he could come up with. Homosexuality. So thanks a lot, all you homos. You are going to ruin our oceans with all of your depravity.

Memo to gay guys:

The time to repent is now! Start having lady sex! The future of our marine environment depends on where you put your wang! Won't someone please think of the fish!?!?

So I got myself a new phone. My old phone, affectionately known as "my cordless", has been retired. And to show just how crappy and weak my old phone is, I have taken a picture of it with my new awesome phone.

I've always been a bit behind the times as far as phones go, so now I feel pretty fucking advanced. Although my new phone is scary. There are a lot of things I can do with it and it makes a lot of fancy noises. And it vibrates! Yes, my other phone was so antiquated it didn't even vibrate. So now I am going to sleep with my phone under my bum in the hopes that someone calls me as I slumber and it vibrates my ass. Wouldn't that be hilarious?

This new phone makes too many fucking noises. When I turn it on, there's this gay little jingle. Same thing when I turn it off. I don't understand why I need the noises. I don't want to hear a chorus of angels every time I turn my phone off. I could do without the homosexual noises. Not that I'm telephonically homophobic, I just don't like cell phone noise in general.

This phone is also way too small. With my old phone, I knew when I had it on me because it was like a third leg. This new phone is like a paper clip. I'm thinking of gluing my old phone to this one, just so I know it's there.

I have a belt clip I could use, but I don't want to be one of those guys. Cell phone belt clip guys. I can put it on my belt right next to my shark repellant.

Side note: My roommate's boyfriend is here and he just took a pee. He always closes the bathroom door when he's done. Why would you do that? If someone else wants to use the bathroom, they're going to think someone is in there. I understand if you just took a crap, but dude, it's just your pee. How bad does it smell? He's a nice guy. A bit weird. And apparently his piss smells like shit.

Anyway, my phone. Whatever. It's a good phone. To honor the memory of my old phone, I'm going to call a lot of people and hang up on them in the middle of my conversation. It's how my old phone would have wanted it.

And the winner for worst line in the new Beastie Boys album is this:

"I'd like a lettuce, tomato and Munster on rye
All this cheese is gonna make me cry
Gorgonzola, Provolone
Don't even get me started on this microphone."

All this cheese is gonna make me cry? That is not very hip-hop. Actually, I'm not sure what that is. I can't point to any genre of music and say, "I could see them crying over lots of cheese."

This line is said by MCA. He sounds all hard core and cool and shit, but he's rapping about crying over dairy. I know he's made a lot of changes in his life. He is all about respecting women now, he broke his nine (as in caliber), he dreams of a free Tibet, he no longer smokes weed... but now he's reduced to tears over Provolone?

While I do give him credit for working the word "Gorgonzola" into a song, I think we've got to worry about his state of mind here. I imagine him sitting home crying through a Lifetime movie eating cheese.

Dear MCA,

It is nice that you are a sensitive fellow and all, but it's hard to take you seriously after that line. You have always been my favorite Beastie Boy. I would like it if you could never repeat that line, and instead replace it with one of the following lines:

Cheese doesn't go with apple pie.
Mike Toole is a really good guy.
Every Game 7 is a do or die.
You're not gonna find me in a suit and tie.
I like to go to Florida and bet on Jai Alai.
I apologize to Mike Toole for that lame ass line about crying over cheese.

Thank you.

A lady in the building across the street from me just jumped. She is no more.

What always shocks me about the way people kill themselves is the violence in which it happens. Why would you treat yourself so harshly? And then force others to look. She did this right next to an outdoor cafe. Imagine drinking your coffee and eating your muffin when, BOOM! A person just ends their life in front of you. A story for the tourists to take home.

Obviously people hate themselves if they decide to off themselves. But why not do it a little nicer? I stand by my theory that drowning is probably the way to go. They made it look downright beautiful in the beginning of The Hours when Virginia Woolf kills herself. Sure, your body will get all bloated and water logged, but it's better than being sidewalk batter or blowing your head to bits.

Maybe "shocks me" is the wrong phrase. I'm not shocked when someone does it. I just think, "Come on. Did you have to do it so nastily and in front of everyone?"

And think about what this will do to your mom. She will NOT be happy.

If I had a blog in 1998, this would have been on there somewhere:

Shouldn't I Still Know What You Did Last Summer be called I Still Know What You Did, Not Last Summer, but the Summer Before That?

OK, back to 2004.

The other night I thought of a funny line, but couldn't find a way to put it in a post or anything, so here it is:

"Things you will never hear on the other end of a phone call to a frat house.

'Dude, put on C-SPAN2 right now.'"

Maybe it wasn't that funny. It sounded funny.

I also thought of the line, "Maybe Clinton did get a blow job, but Bush fucked Iraq."

What else? I saw a guy get hit by a car yesterday. He was on roller blades and couldn't stop because it was raining and the road was all slick. The light had turned red, but he was thinking green. He tried to get the attention of the traffic crossing by going, "WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA!" Not quite as effective as a siren. The guy did not hear him. He then saw him at the last minute and bumped the guy. Roller blading guy had a pretty big raspberry on his leg up towards his ass. I could see this because he had some very gay shorts on. He wears short shorts.

He got up and made a hand gesture towards the guy in the car like a "Forget you" kind of motion. The driver looked at me and was like, "What could I have done?" I just kind of chuckled and shrugged. Then the roller blader got hit by a bus.

That's a lie, but it's what everyone was secretly rooting for. Well, not secretly. Everyone yelled in unison, "We hope a bus hits you!"

That's not true either. Sorry.

I have a fear of a few things. One of them is being stranded in the ocean and the other is accidentally killing someone with my car. I would hate that. If you accidentally kill someone with a gun, you can just be like, "Well, no more guns for me." You can avoid them, but it's hard to avoid cars. Constant reminder kind of shit, you know?

I'm coming around to the Beastie Boys album. It's getting better on repeated listenings.

So Father's Day is this weekend. I think if and when I am a father, I will tell my children to not get me anything. Especially cards. They are the biggest waste. Here is a card I would like to make for my dad right now:

Remember that summer when we built the deck around the pool?
I stood there watching you, impressed by your knowledge of geometry.
Every once in a while, you'd be like, "Go get me a, uh, wrench from the garage."
Then I'd get it.
You'd say "Thanks."
I stood there and watched you some more, bored out of my head.
Once in a while, something wouldn't go right, and you'd say, "Ahh, fuck. What the? How the fuck did I do this? Shit."
You cursed a lot that summer.
Then I'd say, "Can I go play hockey?"
Then you'd be like, "I need you here."
Then I'd say, "Well, for how long?"
"Maybe an hour or so."
Then you would often let me go a bit early. That was awesome.
But I hated that fucking summer.
That deck was huge.
Whenever I drive by the Home Depot, I have horrible flashbacks of wood.
Anyway, Happy Father's Day.

I have yet to find a card that says that.

Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there. You should celebrate by getting wasted and throwing a whiskey bottle at your kids. It will be a great story for your kids to put on their blogs in the future. And they can always be like, "Remember that time dad got drunk on Father's Day and threw a whiskey bottle at us? And then we asked him why he did it and he said it was because some guy told him to do it on his blog? That was a weird day, huh?"

Madonna has officially announced that she is no longer hot and changed her name to Esther.

I feel like I should eat Oreos more often, because it's one of the only foods that make me want to floss.

Why does dialogue in disaster movies have to be soooooo bad? I saw "The Day After Tomorrow" yesterday (writing that just gave me a headache).

Anyway, it was pretty bad. Some cool special effects and all, but that's it. When the characters (I hesitate to use that term) speak, the film (I hesitate to use that term) would come to an embarrassingly screeching halt. There's a lot of talk about weather and global warming (we are beat over the head by how dangerous it is). There is one scene where Dennis Quaid is explaining his theory of what is going on, and another character says something like, "Well, that would explain all the bad weather." Oh, is that what he was talking about?

Then there is another scene where a bunch of people are in the NY Public Library and there is snow about five stories high. Most of the people see this as an opportunity to get out and walk on the snow to get as far away from New York as they can. Jake Gyllenhal, who is Dennis Quaid's son and tries to stop everyone from leaving, says, "This storm is about to get bad. Really, really bad."

A tidal wave has already hit New York, causing a monstrous flood, then it snowed for a few days straight, so the snow is incredibly high. Um, Jake? The storm is already pretty fucking bad.

I've never been faced with an end of the world scenario, but I'd like to think I'd say something more interesting than, "This storm is about to get bad."

I don't even want to talk about the wolves that escaped from the Central Park Zoo, then played a major part in the movie on the abandoned ship that floated all the way up Fifth Avenue to 40th street without hitting a building, but was stopped by a bus beneath the water that it ran over, so then when the characters in the library needed medicine for someone who was sick, they went on the ship and found the First Aid room, but the wolves got on the ship soon after they did. Seriously, I don't want to talk about it.

The plot (of course I am hesitating to use that term) was sorely lacking. The most interesting part about the movie were these three punks in the back of the theater who didn't stop talking. Normally, I'd kill them, but because it was the kind of movie that it was, I really didn't care. But they were getting lots of looks. People turning around, but not really saying anything. Just stares. See, no one wanted to say anything because these were three young black kids and most everyone else was white. And white people are scared of black people, remember? So finally, another black guy in the theater yells out, "Shut the fuck up!!! I'm trying to watch the fucking movie!" I was happy with that. But then he went too far. "You're not in your fucking living rooms."

I think they might have remained a little quieter if he just left it alone. One of them shot back, "I paid my ten dollars." He said back, "Yeah, so did I, now shut the fuck up." I wanted to yell out, "Hey, I paid $10.25! Did you guys get a discount or something? I know it's only a quarter, but still." They went back and forth a few more times, many more "fucks", and through all of this, the argument remained much more interesting than "The Day After Tomorrow."

These kids were still loud and talking throughout the rest of the movie. No one else dared say anything, because if a black guy couldn't get them to shut the fuck up, what chance did we white folk have?

So the Pistons win the NBA Championship, and one of the top stories on Yahoo right now is Lakers may lose Jackson, Malone, Bryant. Who cares? Well, I guess basketball fans and Lakers fans care. I don't. I'm glad the Lakers lost. I hate the Lakers more than I like basketball.

Here is what I hope for the Lakers:

Phil Jackson actually accepts a coaching job with a team that has mediocre players, not the most dominant players in the world.

Karl Malone tries to latch on to the Pistons in an effort to get his elusive NBA Championship. When that fails, he joins a traveling production of "Rent".

Kobe Bryant is convicted of rape.

I think the Kobe outcome is most likely, because Phil Jackson likes things easy and Karl Malone wouldn't be a good fit in "Rent".

Anyway, nice job, Detroit. And thanks for not rioting.

I got the new Beastie Boys album yesterday. Haven't listened to the whole thing yet, but I'm not blown away.

These guys are old. It's kind of odd. I like how they've gotten so political. It's not often you hear the Kyoto Treaty and OPEC referenced in hip-hop. I guess you've gotta rap to your age group. Here are some sample lyrics from a future Beastie Boys album, when they are in their late 60's.

I used to party all night and sleep all day,
Now I gotta cash in my fuckin' 401(k).

I've seen more Real World than Puck or Trishelle
I'm at the Red Lobster for the Early Bird Special.

I might be old, but I still love beer.
Someone close that door! There's a draft in here.

That's all I got.

Just found out my cat died this morning. He had to be put to sleep. Sam was a good cat. Friendly, easy going, liked to sleep, funnier than Garfield. He reminded me of me.

I will miss little Sammy. He once killed a rabbit on Easter. I like to think it was the Easter Bunny. This picture doesn't do him justice, but it's all I've got. He used to like to sleep in the Christmas villages my mom would put up.

Sam only killed when he wanted to. We originally got him because we figured he'd be able to keep mice away. Cheaper and more effective than an exterminator. So one time my mom and my sister are sitting downstairs watching TV, when a mouse races across the living room. Mom and sister jump on the couch and shriek, and Sam, who was sleeping, opens his eyes about half way and watches the mouse scurry to the other side of the room. He just looked at him and said, "What's up mouse? I'll get you later. Right now, I'm sleeping. Now get outta my face so these ladies quit their yelling."

See ya, Sammy.

So apparently there was a guy who was planning to blow up a mall in Ohio. Glad they got him. High five, Uncle Sam!

Anyway, the best part about this story (other than the prevention of carnage at the Gap) is the picture on Yahoo of the guy's neighbor:

"Um, what? No shit, bro? The Indian dude down the hall is a terrorist? Oh man, that's huuuge. Totally blows my mind. That is not cool. First, Phish breaks up, now my neighbor is an al-Kida. Well, glad you guys caught him. You're not the cops? Oh, a reporter. Cool. You wanna smoke a bowl?"

Every week, I get these emails from a site called NYC Bloggers. They ask three questions that are topics for the week. I'm not sure what they do with the answers, but I figured I'd answer them this week, just because I'm bored.

Are Random Subway Searches Constitutional?

I believe they are not. Isn't that the 7th Amendment? The right to not have your shit searched on the subway. If anything, they'll just be a nuisance for us non-terrorists. You know they'll be told to profile Arab-looking men, but to make it look like they are truly "random", cops will be told to pick a few non-Arabs here and there. I was once on line at the ticket counter at the airport, soon after 9/11. I was behind two Arab men. You knew their shit was getting searched. They were cool about it. They knew too. There was also another foreign family (Eastern European, I believe) whose bags were getting a full cavity search. When I got to the ticket counter, soon after the Arab men were led away, I was asked to follow a security guard. They "searched" my bag. Basically moved a few things around my carefully packed bag and talked to me about where I was heading. I have a feeling someone was like, "Hey, send back a white guy. Too many foreigners back here making us look racist."

Should Pro-Choice Politicians Be Denied Communion?

Hell yes. Not only that, but they should be met by protestors in front of the priest holding up signs that say "God hates fags." I know that doesn't pertain to abortion, but it's damn effective. Whenever someone talks to me about God, I'm like, "Oh yeah, I heard of that guy. Hates fags, right?"

Should the Fresh Kills Landfill in Staten Island Be Made Into a 9/11 Memorial Park?

To be honest here, I don't think so. While I'm all for nice memorials, I don't want to see the tri-state area turned into 9/11 Memorial Land. They have an opportunity to turn that shit dump into a huge park, so anything to make Staten Island a little bit nicer should be done. Not that a memorial wouldn't be nice, but I don't think we should get carried away.

But what do I know? I'm just some jerk typing on a computer.

Holy shit. Ronald Reagan died. Why hasn't this been on the news at all?

This is unbelievable. How fucking sensitive are we getting? Jimmy Kimmel, who is not even very funny but somehow has his own show, made some unfunny jokes about Detroit during halftime at the NBA Finals. Yeah, Detroit's a crappy city. Barrel of laughs. Anyway, regardless of the comedic value, the fact that they pulled his show that night nationwide is a joke. Apparently, his show had more "disparaging remarks."

I'm from New Jersey. If we pulled every show that had "disparaging remarks" about my fair state, there would be nothing on after 11:30. This boggles my mind. He didn't come out and say something like, "I think everyone in Detroit should die. Wouldn't that be awesome? The whole city, dead. That'd be great. Nothing but dead Detroiters all over the place. That would be great for this country. Hey, al-Qaeda, next time you attack the shit out of us, hit Detroit. You'll be doing us a favor."

So if he said, that, then yes. I'm all for pulling the show. But for saying some stupid shit about the city looting after the NBA Finals? Who fucking cares?

Dear Country,

Let's all take a deep breath, lighten up, laugh again, and make fun of each other. This also goes for all you white trash motherfuckers in Detroit. Hey, we can take it over here. Yeah, New Jersey smells like shit. New Yorkers all murder each other. See? Now give me a hug.


So Ray Charles died. I'm glad Yahoo changed their headline. At first it said, Grammy-Winner Ray Charles Dies At 73. They changed it to Music Legend Ray Charles Dies At 73. When I saw the first headline, I thought to myself, Grammy-Winner? That's all they've got?

Here is a list of some other Grammy winners:

Michael Bolton
D.J. Jazzy Jeff And The Fresh Prince
Hootie & The Blowfish
Justin Timberlake

and last, but not least (and when I say "not least", I of course mean least),

Baha Men (of Who Let the Dogs Out fame)

Yes, Yahoo, you got it right the second time. We've learned that anyone can win a Grammy. But Ray was a legend. His version of America the Beautiful should be our National Anthem. If you don't get chills listening to that, you're a terrorist.

Has our Terror Alert status been raised to Peach? This morning I heard two separate announcements on two different trains asking that people report any suspicious packages or activities. "Don't keep it to yourself," they said.

I found this odd because it wasn't a taped message like, "Don't hold the doors open," or something like that. The conductors were going out of their way to tell us to keep an eye out. And the other day there were about 20 cops in the Union Square station.

I would like to think though, that if the Alert was secretly heightened, so not to cause a panic, they'd tell it to more people than just the MTA.

So anyway, just a heads up. Keep your eyes peeled, city dwellers. There's a goin's a doin'.

So I've got this Gmail account and I've got four accounts to give away. Anybody want one? I've been searching the Gmail Swap page, which is pretty awesome. Basically people offer you thing for a Gmail account. One of my favorite entries so far is Picture of my 75lb. Yellow Lab in a tutu. That sounds truly amazing.

A lot of people are offering money or other odd things. I had one to give away a while ago. One I gave to a guy at work and the other I gave to a guy who said he'd donate thirty bucks to a children's charity. And guess what? He did. He's a good man. And he has a blog. So thank you to Robert there for being a good person and donating money to charity, rather than offering up a humiliating picture of your fat dog.

So I have four invites to give away. I feel I should have a contest. Perhaps an essay contest. Or a poetry contest. Well, how about if you want a Gmail account you just email me and make your case, and then I'll see if you are worthy! Ha! The power I wield!

If you are interested, the charity that got thirty bucks thanks to a Gmail account is PUSH America.

All of this noise in the city talk reminded me of something that happened a few weeks ago.

I was lying in my bed on a Saturday morning around 8:30. It was a beautiful day out and there was a wonderful spring breeze blowing up my butt. All of the sudden, I heard this woman singing outside. She wasn't serenading me, but the singing was coming from the church that is two doors down from me.

There is often a lot of singing in the church. They practice on Tuesday nights at 8:00, but it's usually a bit more raucous. And on Sunday there is a mass that sometimes gets pretty loud. It's an Hispanic church and they've got a lot of love to give Christ.

Anyway, on this particular Saturday, where I am usually awoken by jackhammers and construction workers dropping things, it was great to be pleasantly nudged awake by this angelic voice. So I just lay there for a while, listening to her sing, in a language I didn't know, but I know the language of love and I could tell she loves her God.

Then she stopped singing. All of the sudden there was this jumpy piano that started to play, and then a guy with a raspy voice started singing. Well, not singing, really. More of a yell. A howl. The sound of a truck crashing. It was a horrid sounding voice in every way. Off-key, loud, and despite its low pitch, it was still piercing.

Then came the chorus of the song. He just started yelling, "Jeee-zuuuussss! Jeee-zuuuussss!" Except it was in Spanish, so he was yelling, "Hey-zooooooos! Hey-zooooooos!" Over and over again. If I was Jesus, I'd have been pissed. It sounded like he was mad at Jesus. It went from this calm, relaxing, gorgeous voice to a guy who sounded like gravel.

Anyway, if I hear that guy again, I'm calling Mayor Bloomberg. If he hears that guy, though, he might be inclined to shut down all churches in the city, because no good could have possibly come from that song.

Here is an open letter to Bill Murray, who does the voice of Garfield in the upcoming Garfield movie:

Dear Bill Murray,

What the fuck were you thinking?

Mike Toole

Mayor Bloomie is trying to toughen the city's noise code in an effort to improve the quality of life around the city.

I am all for this. The problem is that these kinds of things may be tough to enforce. You might have to give the public some rules that they can follow and actually help enforce these laws. So I have some suggestions to help out this fine city.

I think that whenever you see and hear a cab driver (or any driver for that matter) honk their horn as soon as the light turns green, you may punch them square in the face.

That's really all I've got right now. I'll think of more. Oh. All dogs that bark after 10 PM will be confiscated and replaced with goldfish. And the signs that say "No Honking. $xxx Fine." They should be replaced with signs that say, "Please shut the fuck up." Boomboxes being carried through the streets blaring music will be confiscated and replaced with a sackful of feathers. Anyone who talks on a cell phone loudly in a quiet restaurant will have their phones confiscated and replaced with a bag of cotton candy. Anyone who, on the subway or bus, plays a game on their cell phone, a Game Boy, etc. without turning the sound off, will have the item confiscated and replaced with a monkey (who is also mute) that will only be trained to punch you in the groin. People who are loud and drunk on any night from Monday through Wednesday will be confiscated and replaced with goldfish.

I guess that's all I can think of. But it's a start.

Did you ever notice how it's always black people that get arrested?

I would like to apologize for the statement I just made. It was uncalled for and inconsiderate. I apologize to anyone who may have been offended.

Well, thank gosh I apologized. It seems that's really all you have to do these days. The reason I bring this up is because of the Bill Parcells comment where he said two of his coaches use "Jap plays" (meaning surprise plays... a Pearl Harbor reference).

It's a stupid thing to say in a room full of reporters, especially when you preface it with "No disrespect to anyone," which he did. If you start a sentence with something like "No disrespect to anyone" or "I don't mean to be rude, but..." chances are you are going to be disrespectful and/or rude. I used to work with a guy who was from the south and that was his way of being politely rude. "Now, Mike, Ah don't mean to be rude or nuthin', but Ah think you're a douchebag and your birth was a mistake." He was never really that harsh, but you get the idea.

Anyway, what was my point? Oh, the thing I hate most about these apologies is the phrase, "I apologize to anyone who may have been offended." You KNOW people were offended. You did not "may" offend anyone. You DID! It sounds so insincere. It's kind of flippant as if to say, "If you were sensitive enough to be offended by my actions, then I'm sorry. But to the rest of you, my statement still stands."

I would think a more effective way to say it is, "I apologize to everyone who was offended." The other way makes it sound like you still don't believe that people were really offended.

Anyway, it's all bullshit. Bill Parcells is an older man and he's part of a generation. They still say things like that. Most are smart enough to not say it in front of reporters, or don't have the opportunity to do so, but I think his apology would have been more sincere if he just said, "Look, that's what we call trick plays. I guess it is offensive, but it isn't really meant to be. And when it's said among a bunch of non-Japanese coaches and players, it really never appeared to be that bad, but now I realize it is offensive. And for that, I'm sorry."

There. Case closed. I should be a professional apology writer.

Anyway, I was offended by his remarks, but only because I am very good friends with Asian people. In fact, here is a photo of me with one of my best Asian friends.

How to make things awkward in your office bathroom:

There are two light fixtures in the men's bathroom here at work. One of them is currently out, so the bathroom is dimly lit. I walked in there earlier while a co-worker was peeing, and I said, "Wow. It's so romantic in here."

Just watched the Tampa Bay Lightning win the Stanley Cup. Some silly on-ice reporter asked Dave Andreychuk, a man who has been playing for 22 years and whose wife convinced Lightning management to sign him, "Your wife got you here. You got the Stanley Cup. What does she get out of this?"

I was hoping he'd respond, "A deep dicking."

Here is a picture from when William Hung and I won the Stanley Cup in 1998. I scored the winning goal off a great pass from Hungie out of the corner.


I met William Hung this past weekend. I'm the one on the left. The "thumbs up" was my idea. This was the greatest day of my life. Look! He's hugging me. How many people have been hugged by William Hung? I'm one of them.

In these troubled times, with wars and terrorism, and the people of our nation at odds with each other, we need someone to pull us all together. William Hung is that man.

I'm reluctant to use the word "hero" these days, because it seems to be given to people who aren't deserving. But I can honestly say that William Hung is the greatest hero our nation has ever seen.

Someone got to my site by searching, "Did Rod Roddy die of AIDS?" To answer this inquisitive fellow (just an assumption), I believe he died of cancer. I did speak of him once possibly being a pedophile, but he didn't have AIDS.

Speaking of The Price Is Right, I'd like to thank Big Stupid Tommy for providing frequent TPIR updates. I miss watching that show, and this is the best way I know how to get a little fix. It is like a heroin addict smoking cigarettes, but it's still pretty damn good. I think Laurie, my sister, might like this site as well, because she is also a bit of a TPIR freak. She plans on naming her dog "Plinko." She already has cats named Safecracker, Yodeling Guy, One Dollar, Long Bob Barker Microphone Cord, A Fat Lady With Big Boobs Running Down The Aisle In A T-Shirt Is Always Hilarious, and Barker's Beauties.

I still get excited when I see a blimp. But that goes away pretty quickly, because there is really nothing that cool about a blimp. Or is there? I don't know. I think because they are rare, the natural reaction is, "Hey! A blimp!" But then it hits you and you think, "OK, there's a blimp." But it just floats up there for so long that you keep looking back at it, waiting for it to crash in a ball of fire.

I was sitting here at work and I saw one floating up in the sky. I nearly said "Hey! A blimp!" But then I didn't. I think people would have been like, "Yeah, great. First time in the city, little boy? Those buildings sure are tall!"

So I keep my blimp sightings to myself.

"Hey there blimpy boy... flying through the sky so fancy free."

I didn't watch the Miss Universe pageant last night in Ecuador, so I'm just going by the photos. Here is my analysis.

"I have no idea what a war is!"

And now for the most exciting competition of the evening: Not Eating Anything - Ever.

The pageant took an ugly turn with the musical number, "Let's prance around like a bunch of homos."

Miss Ecuador offers a hug to Miss Republic of Fugly.

While Miss Spain points out a couple of other contestants to this Ecuadorian boy, he gets his first boner.

Here is Miss Slovakia during the Evening Gown competition. She was asked to leave the premises immediately and never return.

The pageant was marred by protestors saying that such contests are frivolous. Singer Gloria Estefan (who performed) defended the contest by saying, "A beautiful woman has very great powers to convince, and we have seen many misses who have done a great job." She then added, "What have ugly women done for the world? Nothing. For example, look at that little troll protesting. Yuck."

When asked what she would change in the world today, Miss Italy responded, "I'd like-a world peace. And I'd also like-a to put an end to the Olive Garden trying to associate themself with Italy."

"Hi. I'm Donald Trump. I own half of New York City and I've got me a hot piece of ass. How are you?"

And finally, here is your winner, Miss Australia. She floored the judges during the Evening Gown competition, the talent competition, and in this competition seen here, Best Rib Cage.

My friend Rich called me last night and talked about cicadas. Here are some things he had to say about them.

-- I am so fascinated by them. I love them. No one else does.
-- I put one down Robbie's pants. It was the funniest thing I've ever seen.
-- Really, I'm fascinated by them. I just want to walk around with a Wiffle Ball bat and whack 'em.
-- They're so stupid. They fly right into you. Like they're drunk.
-- They're great. I wish they came every year.

Judging from what I've heard from other people in Cicada Country, Rich is the only person who enjoys these things.

Here is a picture of Rich and I getting busted for open containers in 2002 after a wedding. I was excited to be getting my ticket. Rich was not.

These celebrities keep getting knocked up. Julia Roberts is pregnant with twins. No word on the sex of the babies, but you can be sure they already are richer than you. In fact, during the ultrasound, one of the babies recognized the famous uterus they were holed up in and said, "Cha-ching!"
All material © Mike Toole; 2003 - 2006