|Blogging Like I've Never Blogged Before|
Friday, July 29, 2005
I really only need a few channels. ESPN, Fox Sports and MSG for Mets games, Discovery Channel and CSPAN. And I'll take the regular networks as well, but that's it really. I guess Comedy Central for The Daily Show, but little else.
I was watching The Price Is Right today and the two most boring people got to the final. The guy who won was so low-key and boring. He was from Ohio. And he was very Ohio. I got really sad for a moment when he won, because all he did was shake Bob Barker's hand and say "Thanks." Very polite of him, but very boring. Oh, the reason I felt bad for him was that no one was coming up to hug him. He just stood there by himself, not being excited at all. Granted, he won the shitty showcase, because all he got was a bed or something, but still. If you win on TPIR or any game show, you want your friends and family to come running up and hug you and maybe jump on your new bed. Hug Barker's Beauties, as well.
So I was like, Damn, this guy went to The Price Is Right alone. I've gone to baseball games and movies by myself plenty, but there is something very sad about going by yourself to TPIR, wearing your Buckeyes sweatshirt, then winning the showcase and no one to hug.
But then his Ohio wife finally came up and she was very excited about the new bed that they were going to make love in. The most boring kind of love I could ever imagine.
See what TV does to me? It makes me imagine game show contestants having really dull sex in Ohio.
Another thing that is annoying about cable now is that I live by myself, so I'm paying for the whole thing. I could live with paying for half of it, because it seemed worth it, but now? I don't know. I hate paying for the Home and Garden Network, or whatever it is, and not splitting the cost with someone.
I did, however, just buy the Bose Sound Dock for my iPod, and I gotta tell you, it's pretty fucking awesome. No remorse there. Pricey, yes, but it was basically free. Why? Because I had all these AmEx gift checks that my job used to give to us for not fucking up. I never used them and had about $600 worth. I was good at not fucking up for a while.
Anyway, I am hearing parts of songs I've never heard before. It's exciting.
I need to buy a can opener. I wonder if anyone has ever had buyer's remorse over a can opener. Everyone needs can openers. Maybe a really expensive automatic can opener would provoke remorse, especially after you realize that opening cans with a regular can opener is incredibly simple. It really is. I've done it plenty of times. Just not yet in my new apartment because I keep forgetting to buy one. I hope I remember how to open cans. Maybe I will have to Google, "how do you use a can opener?"
So, I'm done here. People from Ohio, please defend yourself in the comments. You know you want to, you boring sex havers!
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
I didn't fall asleep last night until 6 AM, so while I couldn't sleep, I watched Million Dollar Baby, which I did not like, and I'm making sure the world knows about it by giving it 2 stars on Netflix! 2!
I just hated the Morgan Freeman character. I'm so sick of him being the nice, soft-spoken black man. And the narration was annoying. I kept waiting for the Shawshank music to kick in.
I want to write a movie for Morgan where he just plays a total prick. And not like the old grizzled prick he was in Se7en. I don't know. I'll write a treatment. I'm working on some titles, and so far my favorite is "Baby Kicker."
Morgan Freeman in "Baby Kicker."
I don't have much in the plot department right now, but I know it's going to be about a guy who kicks babies. And we can even have some narration. Imagine Morgan Freeman's voice saying things like, "Yeah, ever since I was a baby, I just knew I wanted to kick other babies. I even tried to kick myself a few times as a baby, but I wasn't so flexible. So I waited until I got older. And I kicked. Right in the soft spot. Yeah, ain't nothing like kicking a soft spot. I guess it comes down to a simple choice: Get busy kicking or get busy dying."
Yeah, so anyway. MDB wasn't so great.
This article about the Courtney Love and Dave Grohl feud made me giggle. I really like this quote from Ms. Love:
"Dave gets to walk away unscathed and be the happy guy in rock, when he's one of the biggest jerks," Love says in the August issue of Spin, on newsstands Friday. "He's been taking money from my child for years."
Um, Courtney, you were a drug addict. So not only did you neglect your daughter while you did drugs, but you put lots of money up your nose and in your veins that could have gone in Frances Bean's nose or veins.
Today at work, there was this conversation between two people:
employee 1: What is your age?
employee 2: Huh?
employee 1: What is your age?
employee 2: You mean how old am I?
I bought a couch from this guy. When he brought it over, he forgot to bring the legs of the couch, so I've been sitting on a low-rider for a while. No big deal. So he had the legs in his car and he kept saying this: I've got the legs in my trunk. The rest of the body's in the back seat.
And then he'd go "Ay-oh!" Or something like that to indicate that a joke was just made. It was pretty funny.
Work has been kind of funny so far this week. There's been a lot of talk about Carly Simon for some reason, then she was on CNN tonight. Again, for some reason. I don't know why. Perhaps it is Carly Simon Awareness Week. I should get a Cause Bracelet for Carly Simon Awareness. Is that what they are called? Cause Bracelets? No, Awareness Bracelets, I think. I really fucking hate them. Anyway, if I got a Carly Simon Awareness Bracelet, it would say, "You're so vain, you probably think this Cause Bracelet is about you."
So to sum up:
* Morgan Freeman will win an Oscar for his career defining role in Baby Kicker.
* Courtney Love is still an idiot.
* "What is your age?" is not an understandable question for some.
* Let's all take a break from our day and think about everything Carly Simon has done for us.
Monday, July 25, 2005
I am definitely going through an insanely vivid dream phase. This can be good and bad. Good because I remember really intense details that make for interesting thoughts. Bad because it sometimes has to do with Candace Cameron shitting up my toilet.
Last night I had a dream that I was doing cocaine with two former co-workers. One here and the other is blogless, so he gets no credit.
I've never done coke, so this was a big moment for me. I was a little nervous but excited, because I've heard good things. I remembered thinking that I would probably die. Not that I'm afraid of dying, but I always had that fear that I'd be that kid in college that would die after the first time trying something. You know, I'd be at a party, do a keg stand, inhale some inhalant from a balloon, next thing you know, I'm dead in a bush and my college makes national news. I didn't want to be that guy who'd ruin it for everyone else.
Anyway, in my dream, this very small amount of coke was at the end of a pencil, and I snorted it up. At first, I felt nothing. But then. Whoa. I gotta tell you...
COCAINE IS FUCKING AWESOME!!!!!!!!!
Seriously, all the children of the world should do cocaine. At least in my dreams.
It actually had a similar feeling to when I was visited by God. Did I ever tell you that one? Oh yeah, God came to me in a dream. It was pretty amazing. I was lying in bed in the house where I grew up, sleeping, when all of the sudden, there was this intense light that paralyzed me. It felt pretty amazing. I was totally numb. Then there was a voice, not God's, but some random dude. God's bitch, I guess, who told me that I was in the presence of God. Nothing really happened, except for the most intense feeling I've ever had run through my body.
So what's my point?
Cocaine is God, I guess.
I don't know. Maybe I didn't see God. I was pretty sure it really happened. Once when I was a little drunk, I told my dad that I had seen God, and he was quite the non-believer. He said, "Why would God visit you? You haven't been to church in years. And I've never been visited by God." So I said to my dad, "Maybe he doesn't visit people of the jackass persuasion."
Hey, good name for a band! The Jackass Persuasion.
Anyway, I still think I saw God.
Whoa, I just thought of something that would be really fucking intense.
God high on cocaine.
Anyway, thanks a lot KJ and GG, for turning me into a dream druggie.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Friday, July 22, 2005
I also like the little guy on the left who seems to be dancing. The guy with the white shirt and green pants. He's jiggy.
Oh wait! I love the guy to the right (your left) of the ball holding guy. Look how excited he is! He is like, "Yes, catch this ball and I will go home! I'm wearing a white button down and my hair is combed!" Well, I don't know if you have noticed, but the player actually drops the ball. The Red Sox won because Manny hit a home run on the next pitch.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
I know you have lots of questions. Like:
Why is Dave wearing ladies' clothes?
Where is that?
Why is Dave wearing a harness?
Is it legal to have Balls that large?
Why can't I stop staring at his Balls?
Are Dave and his Balls single?
Let me explain. We went out to San Francisco for our friend Robbie's surprise 30th birthday party. The day of the party, Robbie's wife Cara organized a scavenger hunt and a '70s party. So everyone was dressed up in '70s garb running around SF trying to accomplish things on the scavenger hunt list.
The group I was with, Dave and his Balls included, were all out-of-towners. So we were kind of getting our asses kicked in the scavenger hunt when we passed by one of those jump on a trampoline while tied to a harness and bungee cords and do flips and shit kind of things. Our friend Matt said something like, "Dave, I don't give a shit about this scavenger hunt, I'll pay for you to go on that thing."
Now, we had no idea Dave's Balls were so massive before this, so it was just something funny to see, because Dave was also wearing a huge afro wig. It fell off before this picture was taken.
(Please note that all references to Dave's Balls should always be capitalized -- just like God.)
So anyway, Dave gets up there with his green pants and tourists are gathered around to see this man with the afro and bright green pants jump on this trampoline. It was quite humorous. But then everyone noticed the harness kind of riding up on Dave. Then everyone noticed, yes, his Balls.
So we are all laughing like crazy, along with tourists -- parents, children grandparents, all laughing together. Everyone knew what the joke was, but no one was really saying it out loud, because some of the little kids might not have understood. Until my friend Matt, through a fit of laughter yells out, "LOOK AT HIS BALLS!!!"
FYI, I am cracking up as I write this. You really have to know Matt to understand.
Anyway, that starts everyone at Fisherman's Wharf off and the entire place is laughing at Dave's Balls. The best part is that Dave has no idea. He thinks he just looks kind of funny, you know, because he is wearing funny pants and a funny shirt. Little does he know, his Balls have become the two most popular tourist attractions on San Francisco.
They should have made t-shirts to rival Alcatraz.
"I survived Alcatraz, but Dave's Balls rendered me blind."
"Someone I know went to San Francisco and saw gigantic Balls, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt."
Dave should start his own line of teabags. Get it? Ha.
So anyway, that is the story behind Dave and his Balls.
Here is a picture of our entire group.
From left to right, that's Look at His Balls Matt, in the yellow goggles is Robbie, the retarded looking narc is Rich, then his wife Cori, that's me in the hat (I dressed up as if I was in my seventies, not as though it was the 1970s), then you have Dave's wife, Alyssa, and then there's Dave. I believe at this point his Balls were doing blow on the dance floor.
Friday, July 15, 2005
Here is a history of where I was and where I will be.
Where were you when the Challenger blew up?
I was home from school because it was a snow day. I was watching Scrabble when they came in with a special report.
Hm, not that much fun. Not a great story.
Where were you when the Columbia blew up?
I was actually sleeping off a hangover when my sister called to tell me. It was weird because the night before we were talking about the Challenger.
Again, not an interesting place to be, although it was quite odd and coincidental that we'd been talking about the Challenger.
Where were you when the Discovery blew up?
I was jerking off on to a picture of the pope.
Yeah, I know. Weird, right?
The old one. You know, the real one.
Why were you doing that.
So I'd have an interesting story to tell you when you asked me that question.
So whenever they get this thing off the ground, make sure you are doing something. But don't jerk off on a picture of the pope. That's mine!
Thursday, July 14, 2005
So I went back to Yahoo, and saw this photo.
In case you aren't a fan of REM, that is not Michael Stipe.
But you can see why I got confused.
Speaking of confusing celebrities with unflattering images, I recently saw Batman Begins and couldn't help but think that Katie Holmes' face looks like it's melting. Kind of like the Scream mask.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
But what to talk about? I haven't had much in the "I've got to blog about that" recently.
I've been having really fucked up dreams ever since I moved. Well, I've always had wacky dreams, but they are just going through an extremely vivid phase lately. I love these phases. Here are two dreams I've had in the last week. You tell me which one is more disturbing.
I am in a movie theatre bathroom. I leave the bathroom to go meet up with my friends in the lobby. I am all excited about the movie we are about to see, but they seem less excited. One friend looks at me like, "Dude, don't talk." I then realize the theatre is being hijacked. We are all hostages to these terrorists (this happened before the London bombings, so it wasn't influenced by that).
So we are being held hostage and they make us all lie down on our stomachs and we can't look up. At one point I think I can escape and I try to get away, but I realized they were blocking the exits, so no go. But other people do try to escape. When that happens, a terrorist kills the attempted escaper, and then just to scare everyone else, they shoot someone else at random. The shootings were really vivid and violent. There was one in particular I recall where a guy shot some lady right between the eyes.
Serious shit is going down. I'm laying on my stomach when someone else tries to escape. He/she gets killed, then a terrorist comes over to me and points his gun at my head. I hear him cock the gun, then he pulls the trigger, but nothing happens. He was out of bullets. This happened a few times.
All of the sudden, somehow all of the terrorists were gone and it was over (the ordeal, but not my dream). So we all get up and somehow are ready to still go see a movie. But now the movie they are showing is an actual movie of what just happened. I say to someone, "I don't think I'm ready to watch a movie of that. It was pretty awful." They say, "Oh, don't worry, we've cut out all the parts where people get shot." So we all went in and started watching the movie. I left after about 15 minutes. I didn't care for the movie.
So that's the first dream. Here is the second dream.
Candace Cameron (DJ from Full House) used my bathroom and clogged my toilet with the biggest piece of shit I've ever seen. It was like the size of a baby boar. And in my dream I got real pissed and called some friend to tell them DJ Tanner just took a huge shit in my toilet.
So which one is more disturbing? Clearly, it's dream B. This dream was probably influenced by a conversation I recently had with someone where I was talking about how I had a little crush on Kimmy Gibler. I think that is probably more disturbing than either dream.
I think I need this t-shirt.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Here is a picture of me and my friend Johnny Mize at Jodie's wedding. We look really awesome.
I miss you guys. Every single one of you. Let me know how you are.
Monday, July 04, 2005
I got my apartment and I've been moving and getting my shit together, and I don't have the internet, so blogging is/will be sporadic for the time being.
Yeah, so living on my own. I'm a big boy! It's not until you live alone where you realize how much shit you don't have. My kitchen stuff consists of a toaster oven and five pint glasses I've stolen from bars over the last few years.
So far, living by myself is fantastic. I really like crapping with the door open.
I do miss Doug, because now when I get home, if I have a bad day, there is no one for me to beat the shit out of. I used to beat Doug quite a bit. But then I'd hug him and tell him that it's not his fault.
Hoboken is similar to New York. Less mailboxes. That's all I've really noticed. I have to walk for a long time before I get to a mailbox. Oh, and there are lots of loud girls on their cell phones. They are in New York too, but I've noticed lots in Hoboken. Right after I signed my lease, there was this girl who was yelling on her cell phone, and this was her part of the conversation:
Yeah... last night. We got shitfaced. Shitfaced. Yeah, he was there.... He got me shitfaced. ... Oh, listen to this. So we're getting shitfaced and... Shitfaced. He got me shitfaced. Yeah, so I was totally shitfaced. Then he just left. He hugged me and left. And I was there, just shitfaced. What the fuck was that about?
Maybe he didn't want to hook up with you because you only use one euphemism for getting drunk. If I wanted to hook up with a girl, and all she said, for example, was "plastered," I'd want nothing to do with her. And shitfaced is an unattractive word. You know, because now I imagine you with shit all over your face.
Yeah... last night. We got shit all over our faces. Shit all over our faces. Yeah, he was there.... He got me shit all over my face. ... Oh, listen to this. So we're getting shit on our faces and... Shit on our faces. He got shit on my face. Yeah, so my face was totally covered in shit. Then he just left. He hugged me and left. And I was there, with just shit on my face. What the fuck was that about?
Anyway folks, I'll try to be a better blogger soon. Oh, and to answer Justin's comment from the previous post, I did alter the Brian Haley quote, only after Mr. Haley himself emailed me to correct it. I was just going on my memory with the quote and apparently got it wrong. And apparently Brian Haley now spends his time Googling his name. I asked him if he'd be doing stand up again, and he told me that he is and it's going to be really big. In fact, he said, "It will involve construction cranes and clydesdales. Huge." So that's exciting.