Blogging Like I've Never Blogged Before

2011-10-15T00:09:00.003-04:00

Hey there. I've moved my blogging over here -- http://michaelroger.tumblr.com/

This blog will still be here for your stalking purposes and of course for historical records, but I'm going to be doing my blogging at Tumblr. That is all. Thanks for reading this blog. Hope you read the next.

Mike

2011-05-03T20:22:00.002-04:00

I do not envy kids in future social studies classes, who will have the unenviable task of trying to remember that it was Obama who was president when Osama was killed. As a person who is TERRIBLE with remembering names, I know it will not be easy for those who didn't live through this era. I mean, it's hard enough for folks now, so imagine being a kid who is reading this in history books. Or history memory robot brain chips or whatever they'll be reading in the future. Or even if they will be reading.

Helpful hint, kids: Obama - remember the B for first Black president. Osama - S for son of a motherless goat.

Anyway, Sunday night was a nutty thing, huh? I had to work at 6 in the morning on Monday, so I was about to go to sleep when this Tweet got all Tweety in my Tweet Tweet. So I thought, Well, that's some weird shit for a Sunday night. Probably aliens!

So of course I was going to wait up for that alien shit. Then the announcement was delayed... and delayed... and delayed. And by the time the President announced it, everyone knew bin Laden was dead. So his speech was anticlimactic. And I was tired. But I couldn't go to sleep.

I stayed up and listened to the talking noggins. I tried to be funny on Twitter. But at no point did I really feel like running outside and jumping up and down. Celebrating a death seems wrong, no matter who it is.

NOW LET ME BE CLEAR.

I am completely fine with Osama bin Laden being dead. I am glad he is dead. But did it make me want to go run outside wrapped in an American flag whilst chanting USA! USA!? No. No it didn't.

When they showed the people gathering outside the White House, I thought, Well, that's kind of cool that people are just going down there.

But then it turned into a fucking frat party. I think I was watching MSNBC, and there were two guys doing chest bumps. CHEST BUMPS. Like, violent high fives and chest bumps. It was weird, and it didn't feel American.

Honestly, after I was trying to make funny hahas, I had that moment of every awful memory from 9/11 coming back. And then I saw these kids out there celebrating, and realized most of them weren't older than 13 when 9/11 happened. It was like they were out there to get great Facebook photos and to have a better story of where they were when bin Laden was killed.

Man, I'm a grumpy old man, I guess. I just don't think that this is a moment to be celebrating in the way it was celebrated. It doesn't bring 3,000 people back. It doesn't make 9/11 any less awful. I hope that it does help to destroy Al Qaeda, but even if it does, something else will sprout up. Osama is a martyr now, and there will be people who rally behind that.

I wrote this way back in the stone age of 2004, and I don't think my sentiments have changed.

I guess, in conclusion, I have some cautious optimism about this whole situation. I mean, I hope we made sure he was really dead. I've seen this movie before. The bad guy goes under water, everyone thinks he's dead, then a few bubbles float to the surface and TO BE CONTINUED??? shows up on the screen.

Whatever. Sorry for babbling. Hope he gets raped by sharks.

2011-03-02T13:15:00.003-05:00

Let's all unfollow Charlie Sheen. It's gone too far.

Sure, at first, I thought it was amusing. Talking about his Tiger Blood and his fists on fire. But it just keeps going. And it keeps getting crazier and crazier.

It's like being at a party and everyone's drinking and having a good time. Then someone shows up and they have some weed. Okay, fine, yeah, pass that around. Then someone else shows up with cocaine, and you're like, "Well, sure, but just do that in the bathroom." Then a few more people show up and they're all about pouring vodka in their eyeballs or something. Hey, not my eyeballs.

But then some dude shows up with a horse, and he's like, "Hey, let's all fuck this horse!"

Everyone knows at that point that it has gone too far. Charlie Sheen has entered horse fucking crazy. Let's not fuck this horse.

Inspired by Sarah, who once talked me down off a horse.

2011-02-06T01:24:00.005-05:00

I have decided to stop checking the 10 day forecast. It is too depressing. There are never any days over 30 degrees. Two weeks ago, there was like a day of 38 degrees and I was all, "Sweet! I'm not going to wear gloves that day!"

An old person started talking to me and a friend today while we were walking outside. It was snowing. He was all, "Global warming, right? They are getting snow in Texas! And they call it global warming!" I miss when old people just told stories about being old or crazy stories about when they were young. I said, "Obama's a Socialist" and kept walking. It was better than getting in his face and being like, "It's CLIMATE CHANGE, MOTHERFUCKER!"

Anyway, come see me and my new band, CLIMATE CHANGE MOTHERFUCKER at the local bar on Thursday.

So I'm rooting for the Packers. I have a lot of Steeler fans who are friends, so this isn't an easy decision. I saw a lot of these friends last weekend and I let them know of my rooting intentions. I found myself saying, "The Steelers have won enough. I would like to see someone new win."

It was at that moment that I realized I turned into my mom. That is a total "Mom reason" to root for a team. I am okay with it. Although, my friend Chaz called me a "typical Socialist, wanting to spread the wealth."

I actually don't know who my mom is rooting for. Probably whoever is less conceited looking.

Anyway, if you don't know who you are rooting for just yet, keep in mind that Ben Roethlisberger decided that this would be a good haircut to have right after he was accused of being a rapist.

To be fair, though...

Anyway, if the Steelers win 8-4, I will be okay with it, since those are the numbers I have in one of those box bet things. I will be rooting for safeties and two point conversions.

Happy Super Bowl Sunday, y'all. Hooray for advertising and concussions and farts.

2011-01-26T22:08:00.002-05:00

I've decided to stop blessing people. I mean, after sneezing. I'll still do my usual blessings for hiccups.

I had a professor back in college, and it pisses me off I can't remember his name, but he was awesome. He was kind of a prick, smart, funny, and made a great effort to challenge the class every day. He was one of the few teachers I had that really gave a damn. One day, he gave his whole reason of why saying "God bless you" after sneezing isn't necessary. Not only can I not remember his name, but I can't remember the reason he gave. But I remember thinking, Damn, saying "God bless you" is stupid.

Whenever he did sneeze in class, someone would of course bless him out of habit. And he would say, "Completely unnecessary, but thank you." I might start using that.

Being in China made me also lean towards not blessing people. When you sneeze there, no one says anything. I liked it. Took a while to get used to, but it made sense. Why not bless people after coughing? What about someone's stomach growling really loud? Should we bless that?

Anyway, my office lately is a cesspool of sneezing and coughing and SARS. And I work with a lot of people. There's just too much sneezing to be blessing. I ain't got time for that shit. So if I work with you, and you're within earshot of me, just know that I'm not going to be blessing you.

I am, however, applying random religious sayings to other bodily functions. Whenever someone farts, I'm now going to say "Lord, hear our prayer."

The best argument I have heard for saying "God bless you" comes from Milhouse:

Milhouse: When you sneeze, that is your soul trying to escape your body. Saying "God bless you" makes it go back in. Once you die it flies up to Heaven.

2010-11-23T22:06:00.007-05:00

I am leaving China today. Wooo! I have had a lovely time in Beijing, but it's time to go home. Hotel living isn't for me. Man cannot survive on room service and Chinese hookers alone. I got that in a fortune cookie.

I got drunk - really, really drunk - on this crap last night. I forget what it's called. But imagine Jagermeister had sex with Satan. This would be the afterbirth. It's gross.

Wise words, China. Wise words.

I've posted this video on Facebook a million times (LITERALLY) for no reason, but now it actually makes sense.

Can't wait to get home, just in time for the most gluttonous of American days.

Sure hope my plane doesn't crash! I feel like that should be a more common saying. Like when you're going on a flight, to just say, "Can't wait to see you. Sure hope my plane doesn't crash!" Or the people who check your boarding pass. "Have a good flight. Hope it doesn't crash."

Anyway, I really hope my plane doesn't crash.

2010-11-22T19:46:00.003-05:00

My hotel gave me flowers this past weekend. That was downright nice of them. I've never gotten flowers before. It made me feel like a proper lady.

I mean, I have been sleeping with them for the last three weeks. It's about time they gave me something.

2010-11-20T11:35:00.009-05:00

Went to the Forbidden City today. That would be a great name for a strip club.

Anyway, it's all loaded with history and all that. Hey, to get people interested in history, they should call it "historray!". So much more fun.

Anyway, for real this time, there was lots of historray. My favorite part of the whole thing was the Hall of Clocks and Watches. I know. I'm as surprised as you are. But it was awesome. There were some serious clocks. I am pretty sure I have never said the word "magnificent" out loud. I still haven't, but I thought it when looking at some of these clocks. It was crazy how much detail went into some of these.

I can't imagine anything from my generation inspiring this same kind of awe. The Hall of iPods, maybe? "And in 2006, they came out with a smaller one! Then, in 2007, they came out with one that was smaller!"

This was my favorite clock, because it would be a great alarm clock. I'd be so freaked the fuck out every time it woke me up, I'd never hit snooze.

Actually, I guess I'd never fall asleep.

I want this tree.

I took a dump on this sign.

I liked these little guys on each building.

I had a beer at this place tonight. My friend, Lee, said, "It looks like they boiled a Gremlin."

Good night.

2010-11-18T13:26:00.009-05:00

I went to the Great Wall of China yesterday. Let me tell you something. It was great. And it was in China. And it was a wall. I just had to check out this "of" business, and then it was go time.

Turns out it was all legit. This Great Wall was a pretty sweet wall. The only problem was I decided to hike up to the bastard.

I went with this hiking group, Beijing Hikers, and I would never do it any differently. But. Next time I will remember to bring my hiking shoes. The last thing I saw when I left my apartment were those shoes, and I was like, "Eh, I'm not doing any hiking in China, right? Fuck it."

This was half way up. HALF WAY!

So on their site, for this hike I did, it said, "Can you climb up three flights of stairs without getting winded?" Which I was all, "Hells yeah! Maybe!" But it should have said, "CAN YOU CLIMB UP THE SIDE OF A FUCKING MOUNTAIN!?!?!?"

Because then, I would have said "Hells yeah! Maybe! But maybe not, too!"

So it was rough. They also said it would be chilly, so bring layers! Everyone was disrobing about five minutes in. It was around fifty degrees. And I am not sure what the translation is to Celsius, but I think fifty Fahrenheit is like 400 Celsius. Again, I'm not sure, but it was warmer than I expected.

One thing that was annoying was that it has been sunny the entire time I've been in Beijing. Which is not expected. You see, Beijing is almost always covered in soot, and haze, and poo, and ash, and whatever pollution you can think of. Somehow, I hadn't experienced that (too much). Of course, I wake up yesterday, open the curtains, and there's the soot, haze, poo, ash, etc.

So that was a bummer, because the visibility was crappy. And all of the photos look cloudy and bright.

All that aside, it was amazing. If the world ends in 2012, I'll be happy I saw the Great Wall of China. We hiked a part of the wall that has not been all fancied up by China, which was cool. Not one person tried to sell me a postcard or a DVD (that's because we didn't see anyone else the entire way).

I only asked someone to take a photo of me once. And I made the mistake of not looking at it after. I call this my "Hey, who farted on the Great Wall?" face.

This was on the way down. You can see where we climbed up to in the background. Nice job, China.

2010-11-16T10:20:00.002-05:00

Sorry for the lack of updates. I sure do suck.

Anyway, I am off to the Great Wall of China tomorrow, so I will most likely post some photos. In the meantime, here is what I will be giggling about the entire time I am hiking the Great Wall of China.

2010-11-11T11:59:00.002-05:00

Today I saw two black people. TWO. In CHINA. I spoke with one of them. She was from New York and worked with the embassy. When I see a black person now, I'm like, "Hey. Dude. I get it now. I GET it."

So remember when I said Chinese people here stare at white people? Well, I do the same thing now. It's weird to see a white person, and I stare. And when Chinese people don't look back at me, I'm like, "HEY! Look at me! I'm a fucking white FREAK!"

I don't really do that, but there is sort of a "Hey, white person!" thing that goes on. You know how people with Jeeps or VW Beetles honk or wave at each other? White people do that with eye contact in China. Even if you speak French and I speak English, we're kind of like, "Hey, whitey." Or, "Bonjour, blancy."

I got an email from a guy named Johnny Wang today. First, I assumed it was spam. It was not. Second, if that's your name, how do you not legally change your name to have an exclamation point at the end of it?

"And your name?"

"Johnny Wang!"

I imagine he points at the person each time he says it. With both hands.

2010-11-10T10:43:00.002-05:00

I was at a restaurant the other day and one of the English descriptions on the menu was "The peasant family explodes the chicken."

I didn't order it, but if I had, I would have thrown a fit if they didn't bring a bunch of poor people out of the kitchen with some fireworks and a chicken. Or maybe ask for alternatives. "Do you have something in an elitist family punching a cow?"

2010-11-09T11:43:00.004-05:00

So after yesterday's post where I joked about "Privacy" being in quotes, I'm starting to think I really am being watched by my hotel.

This note is specifically telling me to put on more clothes. If I get a note tomorrow that says something like, "Try touch privates with left hand. Feel more like stranger," I'm really going to get suspicious.

2010-11-08T20:30:00.002-05:00

I like how "Privacy" is in quotes. Nothing is private in the People's Republic, silly American.

2010-11-07T14:11:00.003-05:00

I've had a few people ask, "Do you feel really tall there?" I'm above average, I think, but I don't feel super tall. Chinese people are taller than they get credit for. I don't feel as tall as I felt in the Philippines. That's where my shorties at.

Now, if you asked, "Do you feel super white there?" Well, that's a different story. And the answer is yes.

People stare at me here. Let me rephrase that. People STARE at me here. And they aren't shy about it. You know how when sometimes you feel a person is looking at you, and you look back at them, and then they look away? Yeah, not here. I can tell someone is looking at me, so I look at them, and they keep looking. Like, right into my eyes. They don't care. It's like they've never seen a white person, and they want to see if I will disappear if they look hard enough.

It's odd. I expected that in the Philippines. I was in some pretty rural areas, so a pasty white guy is reason to stare. But in Beijing, one of the biggest cities in the world, it feels kind of odd. You'd think people have seen white people before, at the very least on TV. Granted, I am VERY white, but still. They just stare. Now I know how hot chicks feel.

When I was leaving the Temple of Heaven the other day, these girls were walking near me and kind of being all giggly. I could tell they were talking about me, but didn't know exactly why. Was it because I am insanely handsome? Maybe.

Turned out they wanted me to take a photo of them. One girl came up and gave the international sign for "Can you take a photo of us, white boy?" So I did. Then after that, she said, "Now you." So she wanted to take a photo with me. There were three of them, and they all got their own photo with the white guy who is five foot ten and a half. Now I know how New York firemen feel.

So after that, I said, "OK, now YOU." I had to take a photo with the girls who wanted to take a photo with me. But out of context, it just looks like I'm going around taking photos with young Chinese girls. Which, I totally am. But this one was totally IN context.

2010-11-06T12:07:00.015-04:00

So I went to the Temple of Heaven today. I did not really know what to expect. I knew there would be some structures that have been there since the Ming dynasty and I'd get all historical up in this shit, but I had no idea I would end up walking through an elderly Chinese hip hop dance party. For realz.

Before I get to that, I will try to give you an idea of what this place is like. It is basically a big park with buildings, gardens, etc. throughout. It's kind of like Central Park, but there are things on the map like this:

Just so you know, the building is shuttered and they no longer kill animals there. I mean, they're killing animals on a regular basis everywhere else around here, but they are smart enough to not call it the Animal Killing Pavilion.

Anyway, it was a lovely fall day today. The first thing I heard when I walked through the east gate, though, was the most god awful singing I have ever heard in my life. There was a lady with a karaoke machine screeching some awfulness. I can tell you now that she is not getting into heaven if she plans on doing that when she gets there. So I walked on.

I walked through a section (simply called the Long Corridor) of older people playing cards and yelling at each other in Chinese. It was incredibly entertaining to watch, and I would match rather watch this than any World Series of Poker garbage on ESPN.

Then I walked through a much quieter and serene section where this guy was singing, and he had a great voice. He was one of my favorite people of today, because he was singing his heart out, even though no one was watching him (I was behind him and eventually said Ni Hao to him, so I wasn't a total creeper).

So now I am walking and really enjoying the weather, the trees, the history and all that. I walk down this pretty little path.

Then I went through some gigantic gate. And I heard some very loud music. The kind of music you'd expect to hear in Central Park, not in the Temple of Heaven. So I was thinking, Wow, someone here is totally blasting some hip hop music, and I can't imagine that these old Chinese people around here are going to stand for this.

I turn a corner to where the music is playing, and there is a quarter mile stretch of about 100 old Chinese people dancing. It was amazing. They were ballroom dancing, salsa dancing, some were just doing some old school Tai Chi moves. And they were all doing it to Kanye. I repeat. It was AMAZING. I am here for two more weeks and I am pretty sure this will be the highlight of my trip.

This lady was my favorite.

I walked around for about three hours after this, and before I left, I came back to see if this was still going on. And while there were less people there, it was still going. And that lady was still going strong. Check out the dude in the background. That's how everyone was dancing. It was serious. I might go back tomorrow.

I feel like recreational dancing on TV has really had a void ever since Club MTV went off the air. Might I suggest Club Eldery Chinese Hip Hop Dance Party. Or Dancing With the Old Chinese Ladies.

Anyway, the rest of the temple was cool, but no Ming Dynasty relics could hold a candle to the 20 minutes I spent watching those people dance. Yes, 20 minutes. I kept starting to leave, but it was so difficult. It was too much fun. If heaven is actually like this, then sign me up.

Tomorrow I will blog about how I am a white person in China. A very white person.

Here are a few more photos from today (you can click on them for a better view).

This dude was conducting a band and a choir at the same time. He was also pretty awesome.

2010-11-05T13:13:00.003-04:00

Today in China:

I ate duck blood. It wasn't as good as it sounds.

I got stuck on an elevator with two Chinese girls. They flipped their lids. We were stuck for about a minute. If it went for five minutes, I'm pretty sure they planned on killing me and using my skin as a blanket.

A homeless man patted my belly, then tried to sell me a tiny dog. I would have bought a gremlin, but I don't need a dog.

I saw a sticker on a car that I think was supposed to say "Baby On Board" but it said "Baby On Road."

I went to a restaurant that had "Braised Belly Hill Bacteria" on the menu. You haven't had bacteria until you've had it braised.

2010-11-04T13:08:00.003-04:00

I played darts tonight at a Texas bar in Beijing. I almost won money. I blew it.

But I got a pretty sweet photo with Chinese people wearing Texan clothes. So, you know, I am a winner.

2010-11-03T11:09:00.003-04:00

I did nothing fun today. It was all worky work busy bee.

Soooo, what to blog about? I signed up for this NaBloPoMo thing. It's not anything perverted, despite the sound of it. It stands for National Blog Posting Month. It's just kind of a way to force you to blog every day for a month. Sorry, not "force", but "inspire." So I figured, Hey, I'll be in China. That's inspiring.

When I was in the airport on my way here, I kept hearing that announcement you hear a million times. Something like, "Don't accept packages from unknown persons." Or whatever it says. About the 439th time I heard it, I was wondering why that announcement is necessary. Did that used to happen all the time? Was there an era in passenger aviation where there were just people giving out packages to people waiting for flights, and it was cool? Then one time, some asshole over Lockerbie ruined it for everyone.

Seems to me that "Don't take box cutters on planes and please don't fly planes into buildings because that's pretty much a dick move" would be more useful.

So I ordered room service a while ago. I don't think it's going to get here. This was the conversation:

Room Service: Ni hao, room service (then some stuff in Chinese).
Me: Ni hao, I would like to place an order.
Room Service: Order?
Me: Yes, a food order.
Room Service: Hold. (I hold for a minute, then a different person comes on.)
Me: I would like to place an order.
Room Service: OK.
Me: Noodles with beef.
Room Service: Order?
Me: Yes, the noodles with beef.
Room Service: Room number?
Me: Four oh eight.
Room Service: Number?
Me: Four oh eight.
Room Service: Number? Four?
Me: Yes, four zero eight.
Room Service: Eight?
Me: Four oh eight (I thought I'd try "oh" and "zero" but neither seemed to work).
Room Service: Four? OK. (Click.)

Oh well. If there is a room number 48, they might be eating my noodles right now. Or it's taking so long because they are meticulously making me 408 noodles.

Hello, Pringles from the minibar.

I can't believe they didn't speak better English. I mean, come on! I am in YOUR country. Have the courtesy to learn MY language. Am I right, people?

2010-11-02T11:14:00.004-04:00

Oh, hello. I am still in China. Since a few people asked, and it's only polite to explain what I am doing here, I am in Beijing for work. I will be here for three weeks. So since I am here for work, there are days (such as today) where I couldn't wait to get home. I'm exhausted and work was pretty busy. So if I seem like I'm not living my Beijing vacation to the fullest, it's because I am working a lot.

So anyway, I went to Tiananmen Square today before work. Walking up out of the subway and seeing the portrait of Chairman Mao was pretty incredible. It was really my first "holy shit I'm in China" moment. Then as I was walking around, about twelve people came up to me asking if I wanted them to be my tour guide. Those were twelve "ah shit I'm a white guy at a tourist attraction in China" moments.

I went to lunch by myself afterwards. I've learned that it is difficult for people to communicate if they don't speak the same language. For example, I speak English and about two words of Chinese. My waitress spoke Chinese and about two words of English. We played charades.

In this guide book I bought, it explains how certain seemingly innocuous things can mean something very insulting in Chinese. For example, it says, "Never stick your chopsticks vertically into your rice as they will resemble incense sticks in a bowl of ashes and will be considered an omen of death." Of course! Everyone knows that one, right?

So I am trying to tell my waitress I want a bottled water. I say water, thinking maybe it's the equivalent of how everyone knows what "agua" means. No dice. She looks at me and says something all Chinese, and I again say, "bottled water." But this time I say it LOUDER, so she can get it. She doesn't get it. So now I try to mimic what drinking a bottled water looks like, which as I am doing it realizes it could be easily misconstrued as, well, pretend you're drinking a bottled water. Yeah, so she looks at me kind of weird and I'm thinking, Did I just give the Chinese symbol for "I think you'd do very well for me in illegal sex trafficking"?

Anyway, I eventually asked for a Coke, because what is more universal than a Coke? But then of course I was worried that maybe coke is universal for cocaine, so not only did I just proposition this girl, I asked her if she had any cocaine.

But I got a Coca-Cola and everyone was happy.

Note to self: Learn Chinese.

Anyway, here is a photo from today. Like I said, my Chinese is terrible, but I am pretty sure this says "Welcome to Tiananmen Square, Presented By Pepsi".

"Okay, Dave, welcome aboard. I know today is your first day, but you have a very important job. You need to stand out front and be ready to extinguish anyone who sets themself on fire, and Dave, they WILL set themselves on fire. We've all seen it. You ready? You know how to work one of these things? Don't forget to stand straight with your hands at your sides."

2010-11-01T10:47:00.002-04:00

A few years ago, I had a long layover at some airport. I forget where. Denver, maybe? Where ever it was, it was one of those days where everyone's flight was cancelled or delayed. You know what that means... everyone's getting drunk. Every bar was absolutely mobbed.

So I was in this packed bar by myself at a table for two and this older lady came by and asked if she could join me. She sat down and we started talking. Next thing I know, she's got her hand on my crotch. Just kidding. Was just seeing if you were paying attention.

Anyway, we're talking about our respective travels. She just got back from a trip to China, where she went with a bunch of friends, and they have all parted ways at this airport. She was a woman in her late 60s/early 70s, I guess. She was from Louisiana, and had a very fancy southern accent. Not a NASCAR southern accent. But more of a Southern Belle Blanche Devereaux / Scarlett O'Hara accent (yeah, I referenced a Golden Girl before Gone With the Wind... what of it?). Not quite that extreme, but you get it.

She told me a lot about her trip, her friends, her dead husband. And at one point, she says to me, "Now, Mike, I know this is going to sound so stupid." First, I loved that she called me by my name as soon as I told her what it was. I, of course, forgot her name the instant before she told it to me. I think remembering names is like the first rule in How To Win Friends and Influence People. This is why I have no friends, nor have I influenced anyone ever. Where was I? Oh, OK, so she says (remember, fancy lady southern accent), "Now, Mike, I know this is going to sound so stupid. But all I kept thinking when I was there was, 'There are so many Chinese people."

So here I am in China, and I can safely say that her story checks out.

I don't have any crazy stories yet, but I fully intend to. Even if I have to make them up. I also intend to blog every day while I am here. So we'll see how that goes.

I will say, though, that in my day and a half here, I've found that the stereotype that Asians are bad drivers is not accurate. They are way worse than anyone has ever made them out to be. I am not planning on getting hit by a car while I'm here, but I am not NOT planning on it either. Crossing the street here is insane. If it says "Don't Walk", you'd best not walk. And if it says "Walk", you probably shouldn't walk. I'd recommend never crossing the street, if possible. If you cross the street here, and a car is heading towards you, the driver will honk the horn, but they won't slow down. It's more of a "heads up I'm about to run you over" honk. Not a "hey, get out of the way!" honk. It's a very nonchalant, "You're about to die, but I honked so consider yourself warned" honk.

Okay, I am off to bed. More tomorrow, assuming I don't get hit by a car while I'm sleeping. It could happen. I'm only on the fourth floor.

2010-10-26T17:10:00.004-04:00

Hey, so I am leaving for Beijing on Saturday. Wooooo! I will try to update my blog often, and I guess I will just get this out of the way right off the bat before anyone makes the comment:

No, I will not change the title to Brogging Rike I've Never Brogged Before.

And that will be your only L turned into an R joke for the rest of my time blogging about China. Unless of course it leads to a hilarious misunderstanding.

Last night, I was reading this phrase book I bought, and under the food section, one of the phrases is, "I don't want to try pigeon." I don't know how often this is going to come up, but you can bet your bottom dollar I am going to memorize that shit. And I expect to say it in all caps and exclamation pointy. I DON'T WANT TO TRY PIGEON!!!!!

So that's all for now. Just fair warning that maybe, just maybe, I will have things to blog about. In the meantime, if you'd like a postcard, feel free to email me your address. Oh, and if you have been to China and have any tips or suggestions or anything, let me know. I hear the hiking near the border of North Korea is amazing.

Peace in the far east.

kicking ass and taking poops.

2010-08-08T16:13:00.003-04:00

So today at work, I'm taking a wee, and I hear someone talking in the stalls. Apparently, someone was on the phone. All I heard was him saying, "Oh, you know, kicking ass and taking names." He said it pretty quietly at first, so I guess whoever he was talking to asked him to repeat himself. Again, a bit louder, he said, "Kicking ass and taking names." So I said, "And taking shits. Don't forget the shits part. You're kicking ass, taking names, and taking shits. And talking on your phone in the stall. Which is really gross."

I didn't really say that. I didn't recognize the voice, so now I am just worried that this guy is going to kick my ass and take my name. I'm going to go all Braveheart on him though, and be like, "You can kick my ass, but you will never take my NAME!"

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I was at this downtown festival in Cleveland over the weekend. There was a clown there. Her name was Sparkles the Clown. She was a large, large clown. And she just sat on the ground and the kids had to come to her. She would then paint their faces. But she did not stand at any point. I'm guessing she was at least 300 pounds. She will soon be changing her name to Shut-In the Clown. She will paint your face. With mashed potatoes and gravy.

---------------------------

So I've decided to not drink for the month of August. The main reasoning was because I sprained a muscle in my back. And the instructions said to "limit alcohol." So I thought it was a good reason to just cut it out altogether. And you know what? It's pretty damn good.

Granted, it has only been ten days, but I thought about this the other day, and I can't remember ten days in a row of being in Cleveland where I didn't have a drink. There's been baseball games, football Sundays, wine and movie nights, wine and no movie nights, whiskey and staring at the wall nights, tequila and bum fight nights, Jagermeister and throw up as soon as you can nights, grain alcohol and driving through bad neighborhood nights, and many more.

Someone at work the other day said to me, "Why aren't you drinking? You're like twice as funny when you're drunk." That was upsetting to me, because I think I'm at least thrice as funny. I also remember a while ago someone was linking to my blog, and they wrote something like, "This guy is so funny. Every weekend he gets drunk and then he writes about it." Oh, good. So that's my legacy. Please, please, whoever gives the eulogy at my funeral, I already have it written for you:

He was - arguably - thrice as funny when he was drunk. Every weekend he would get drunk. And then he would write about it. We'll miss his blog.

Anyway, don't worry. Come September, I will be drunk as shit. In case you aren't aware, shit is drunk.

Also, I wrote this tweet today while sober. I thought it was pretty funny.

2010-08-03T20:01:00.002-04:00

On my way home from work today, I saw a bumper sticker which read:

Have fun in your cubicle. I will be WELDING.

That guy really likes welding. But even though melting shit with fire does seem like fun, I imagine it would - like any job - get boring after a while. So when I get bored at work, I can check out awesome things on the internet like this amazing synopsis of Warren G and Nate Dogg's Regulate. I bet your welding equipment doesn't have Wikipedia.

I can also check out the Wikipedia entry for Welding.

Anyway, I was thinking of other jobs that would make good bumper stickers like that one. So here's a fun game for you to play. Match the job with the bumper sticker.

Unemployed guy
Your co-worker
Guard at Guantanamo
Abortion doctor
Cubicle builder

Have fun in your cubicle. I will be WATERBOARDING SUSPECTED TERRORISTS.

Have fun in your cubicle. I will be PERFORMING LATE TERM ABORTIONS.

Have fun in your cubicle. I will be MASTURBATING.

Have fun in your cubicle. I will be IN THE CUBICLE NEXT TO YOU.

Have fun in your cubicle. I will be MAKING CUBICLES.

Yes, this was tricky, as the MASTURBATING one could have been a match for all of them. But if you really paid attention, you could figure it out.

Anyway, I think I am going make my own bumper sticker: Have fun welding. I will be FINDING RANDOM ARTICLES ON WIKIPEDIA WHILST IN MY CUBICLE.

Last night I was at a concert, and this girl behind me answers her phone while the concert is going on. Here is what I hear:

Hello. What? I can't hear you. I can't HEAR YOU. WHAT? I'm at a concert. You're breaking up. YOUR PHONE IS BREAKING UP. I CAN'T HEAR YOU. WHAT? I WILL CALL YOU LATER.

If I was the friend who called that girl, we would no longer be friends. But I hope that this is what was being said on the other side of that call:

Hello.

Hey. How's it- Where are you?

What?

I said where are you. It's really loud.

I can't hear you.

Well, call me ba-

I can't HEAR YOU.

I SAID CALL ME BACK.

WHAT? I'm at a concert.

Well, then why the fuck are you answering your phone?

You're breaking up.

What? You answered the phone at a CONCERT, and you're blaming my phone?

YOUR PHONE IS BREAKING UP.

Yeah, I heard you, but it's your ear that is the problem because of all the noise around you, you dolt.

I CAN'T HEAR YOU. WHAT?

I CALLED YOU A DOLT! WHY WOULD YOU ANSWER YOUR PHONE AT A CONCERT, YOU IMBECILE?

I WILL CALL YOU LATER.

No, please don't do that. We really shouldn't be friends anymore.

People are so stupid.

Anyway, if you are in a cubicle and have some time to kill, this slideshow of the world's strangest airports is awesome.

2010-07-28T21:00:00.003-04:00

I like to think I would have been better off in olden times, but I probably would have fallen into the "easy to murder" category of people. I bring no specific skills to the table. And you know people were getting murdered left and right back then with no repercussions. I'd be all, "Hm, I don't think I know how to sail a ship. I also am not good at building things with my hands. I'm not much of a scavenger, either. I don't like blood. Maybe you guys want to read my journal? I have some fairly humorous observations about life and how you guys don't properly dispose of your feces!" I'd be dead in no time. Some dudes would bash my brains in, call a doctor, and he'd be like, "Oh, yeah, his head is all bludgeoned? That's syphilis!"

I am not even sure which "olden times" I am talking about. In my head, I think it's when the first settlers got to the southern tip of Manhattan and set up shop there.

I get this common complaint from folks: You're so quiet at work, but on your blog, you're so different.

For a while, I've thought about this and it has bothered me. I wonder why I am so quiet at work. Granted, I take my job seriously. I tend to be too uptight at times, I'm sure. But why can't I be a little more easy going? Then it hit me. READ MY BLOG. I talk about things that are very not appropriate for work. You can't really tell AIDS jokes these days. Everything I think about is fucked up. I hate when people are like, "Man, I have some crazy thoughts about things! I am crazy!" Because most of the time, they are not crazy. It's the "What's the deal with airplane food" kind of crazy. So I will just say that I am inappropriate.

So, if everyone wants me to be more "blog Mike" at work, just remember that that will include jokes in the following categories:

terminal diseases
pedophilia
bodily functions most people don't talk about with co-workers
me being murdered: olden times style!

And many more!

2010-07-20T19:40:00.002-04:00

Some crazy guy in my neighborhood just said all of the following to me as I walked past:

"Hey, ese. (I kept walking) Yo, motherfucker. Hey, dickhead! (still walking... pretty far away now). Yo! Hey, MUCHACHO! Ese!"

I am most offended by "muchacho." I'm no muchacho. I'm an hombre, motherfucker.

On the same walk, I saw a guy walking his dog. Some other random dog started barking at the dog. The dog being walked did nothing. The guy walking him, however, started barking back.

This was a fun walk. Nice job with the crazy, neighborhood.

2010-07-19T18:03:00.002-04:00

I need to post this before people forget all about Mel Gibson.

OK, I assume everyone knows the story about good old Mel, but this is specific to his line, "You should just fucking smile, and BLOW ME!!" Nice fella. Anyway.

So the other day on the Twitter, I tweeted a tweety where I tweeted what I thought was my tweetiest tweet of all time. It was:

Quick impression of Mel Gibson if he were a piece of carry-on baggage: "You should just step out of the fucking aisle, and STOW ME!"

So I was thinking, this shit is about to get re-tweeted top tweet style! And then... nothing. I mean, come on, people! I rhymed "smile" with "aisle." That was inspired.

So anyway, I spent the rest of my day coming up with other ways Mel Gibson would say that line if he were other things. But I didn't want to waste them on my Twitter followers, since clearly they're all a bunch of assholes. I decided to save them for my blog which no one reads anymore. So without further adieu, I present to you What Mel Gibson Would Say if He Were Other Things (sung to the tune of "You should fucking smile and blow me").

Mel Gibson as a canoe in Africa: You should put me in the fucking Nile, and ROW ME!!

Mel Gibson as a fingernail: Put away your fucking nail file, and GROW ME!!

Mel Gibson as a an offensive Asian stereotype: You should just fucking smire, and BROW ME!!

Mel Gibson as a pedophile's penis: Show me a fucking child, and GROW ME!!

OK, so I used "grow" twice, but it's not easy to come up with these. I mean, it's easy to come up with some things that rhyme, but two that make sense together are tough. I was really disappointed I couldn't come up with anything for "MARGARET CHO ME!!" Special thanks to Dave Lozo for brainstorming over gchat.

Anyway, what else? I watched this movie, The Cove. It won the Oscar for Best Documentary. It's all about slaughtering dolphins. It was pretty amazing. I gave it four stars on Netflix, even though I feel like as a film, I should have given it five. But Netflix takes that to mean you "love" something. But I don't much care for dolphins being murdered, so it seemed weird to "love"it. So I went with four stars, which means I just "really like" watching dolphin bloodbaths.

Anyway, see the movie. Unless you really like murdering dolphins. Then it's probably like a conservative watching a Michael Moore movie. Because it's decidedly anti-dolphin murder.

I just realized I gave Dear Zachary five stars, which is also a sad movie, but I did love it. What?! You haven't seen Dear Zachary? Well, rent it. And if you don't cry, you have no soul and you should get a job as a dolphin murderer. Add it to your queue and watch it. Don't read too much about it. That's all.

I was going to blog about LeBron a while ago, but everything has already been said now. And you know what? Cleveland is still standing. It's like it never happened. Tough people, these Clevelanders. Granted, it's just sports, but they sure aren't good at getting good news with sports. Here is what Cleveland sports is like, if Cleveland sports was a patient in a doctor's office:

Cleveland, I have some bad news. You have cancer. And your cancer has AIDS. And the AIDS you have is the early 80s kind of AIDS where everyone will be scared of you because you're gay, not the Magic Johnson blood transfusion, "Oh I totally forgot he has AIDS" kind of AIDS. You're Tom Hanks in Philadelphia kind of AIDS, only you're in Cleveland, and you're not Tom Hanks. You're the other guy from Bosom Buddies. And Bruce Springsteen didn't write the theme song to your movie. Jimmy Buffett did. And it's mocking AIDS. And people sing it at the beach.

But you know what? Cleveland keeps on keepin' on, ready for the next big disappointment. You know what people started doing minutes after LeBron announced he was going to Miami? They started chanting "Here we go Brownies, here we go." And the Browns suck! But they love them so.

Anyway, that's all I have for you. Go Browns, I guess.

the baseball

2010-07-18T11:13:00.003-04:00

I think every baseball fan probably dreams about a road trip where you go to every stadium over the course of the season. If I ever won the lottery, it would probably be the first thing I did (assuming I win the lotto during baseball season).

Well, these lucky bastards are doing it. Only they are doing 30 stadiums in 30 days. So I assume there will be airplanes involved in their road trip. Pretty cool. Heads up, the publication they are writing for is called COED Magazine, so there are really groundbreaking photo galleries such as "Hot Girls Eating Hot Dogs."

I'll be looking for them when they make it to the Cleve and maybe get some free shit out of it (they are sponsored by Nokia). Maybe I will introduce them to my Mets hat.

Anyway, for my baseball fan readers (do I still have readers?), I thought you might be interested in checking this out.

Hooray for baseball.

Here's a photo of my Mets hat enjoying a $2 beer.

2010-04-27T22:14:00.002-04:00

The video at the end of this post reminded me of a story that happened while I was on a blogging break. Which was pretty much the last three years. But anyway.

A few years ago, I was in San Diego for work. While in the airport on the way back, I was waiting in line to go through security. It was a long line, and there was lots of huffing and puffing among people. Why aren't more people working here?! Why can't they go faster?! Why am I such a dickwad?!

Things like that.

To the left of the line, there was a large group of people apparently waiting for someone to arrive off of a flight. There were at least ten people. Kids, old people, a big old family. They must be waiting for someone awesome, I thought. Someone like me.

Soon, I noticed someone in Army fatigues coming through the exit. She saw someone else, but not with this group, and they hugged for about two minutes without stopping. Well, isn't that nice? I thought. Service members coming home from overseas. Everyone in line clapped. It was a nice moment, and made me realize that this big old family must be waiting for someone coming home from far, far away.

Soon enough, a guy came walking through the exit, and the group went wild. People were jumping, kids were yelling and a gal in her 20s couldn't wait for this soldier to get close enough.

He came through, hugged everyone. Now, everyone in the security line was clapping for him and his family. After hugging everyone in the group, he went to his girlfriend, and this soldier got down on his knee, pulled out a ring, and proposed to his gal. She cried and of course said yes. Everyone clapped and cheered louder. Ironically, it actually would have been the perfect time for a terrorist to slip through security, because every security guard was watching and clapping. Every single woman in the security line was openly crying. And every single guy was trying not to, but it would have been OK if they did.

I'm not saying I cried, assholes, I'm just saying that if holding back tears while trying to look tough in front of co-workers was a weapon of mass destruction, I would not have made it on that plane.

Anyway, it was one of those things I will always try to remember when I'm having a shitty day. No matter how bad I think things may suck, there are always people who are doing way more important things than I am. I will also think of that video where the monkey sticks his finger up his butt and then smells his finger and falls out of a tree.

This post inspired by this video, posted by my first internet friend, Natalie.

2010-02-27T16:10:00.002-05:00

Oh man, long time, right? So much has happened since I last blogged. Haiti, the Olympics, health care, Chile this morning. A lot to talk about. But let's talk about killer whales.

My guess is that whale would have killed way more people if he could have. But the last person he killed was a homeless person. He probably had some of that and was like, "Oh man, people taste like shit!"

Anyway, I feel bad for that lady. But you know, she died doing what she loved doing. She died like she lived: getting murdered by whales.

Died like he/she lived. When is that ever appropriate? I guess maybe for skydivers who die skydiving or something. But for most people, it will never apply. Like for me, I hope I never die at my desk at work, because people will say, "He died like he lived: working on press releases." I once blogged about a dude that died on a conference call, and how awful that would be. He died like he lived: listening to a conference call and wishing he was dead.

What else? So, the Olympics. I like the Winter Olympics. But I hate the jumping back and forth they do for the broadcast. When they are like, "Here's twenty minutes of short track speed skating (awesome). We'll get back for the final race, but first, here's an hour of ice dancing (opposite of awesome)." It would be like watching, say, Arrested Development. Then there's a commercial, and when they come back from commercial, Bob Costas is sitting there with his dick face, and he says, "We'll get you back to Arrested Development in a bit, but first, here are three episodes of Two and a Half Men, and a classic episode of America's Funniest People."

I was at the West Side Market this morning, and was purchasing something from somewhere. Right behind me was where I was going to purchase some ground sirloin. While buying whatever I was buying, I heard this conversation between the three dudes working at the sirloin place:

Dude 1: Dude, did you know that Ryan is thirty?
Dude 2: Dude, I know. It's insane.
Dude 3: Shut the fuck up. Thirty?
Dude 1: Yeah, man. Fucking crazy.
Dude 3: Holy shit.

This made me sad. Go back and replace "is thirty" with "has AIDS". That would have made me feel better about the conversation. Needless to say, I didn't buy my ground sirloin from a bunch of ageists. I will take my $3.49 elsewhere, thank you very much.

OK, that's all.

Oh, I will once again plug my Twitter page. You get fairly often, not very funny updates.

Oh, this post is dedicated to Boner from Growing Pains. Here is an old post of mine where I mention the word "boner" seven times.

2009-12-08T00:48:00.003-05:00

While on my lunch break at work today, I was walking back to the office, and heard the cutest exchange between a mother and son. So I had to share. The boy was probably between 2 and 2 and a half and the mom was on her cell phone. Here it is.

Boy: Mommy, I (something unintelligible)...
Mommy: Shut the FUCK up. I swear to god.
Boy: (more unintelligible things.)
Mommy: What the fuck did I just say? Shut the fuck up!
Boy: (More words, not shutting the fuck up.)
Mommy: What the FUCK is wrong with you? (into phone) Goddam this kid won't shut up. Yeah, anyway...

I mean, it's stuff like that where you think, You know what? There are good parents in this country. For every Balloon Boy dad, there is a mother who is engaging her young son in conversation. Just beautiful.

Anyway, when was the last time I blogged, huh? It's been a while. Sue me.

I've been in New York a few times over the past couple of months. I really do miss it. It's almost weird when you get a whiff of garbage, and you think, Ahhh, I miss that. At one point, I had smell overload. It was like, "Mmmm, pizza! Garbage! Urine!" All at once. Granted, I was at Famous Ray's Pizza, Urine and Garbage shop.

I also miss hot nuts. It's fun to say and fun to eat. Hot nuts! You might say I am nuts 4 nuts.

That's all I have for you.

2009-09-03T18:02:00.002-04:00

I have never been more ashamed of my hometown, my home state, and my country. I have no words to describe what happened at this "town hall" in Red Bank, NJ (not technically my hometown, but right next to it... and I was born there!) about a week or so ago. You may have already seen this or read about it, but if you haven't, please do:

Can there be any room for a centrist at a health care reform town hall meeting

OK, I guess I have one word to describe this, which would have to be "BOOOOO!!!"

I mean, they are booing this woman who is pouring her heart out about the medical bills she has to pay. Then they boo her when she mentions her mortgage, because people now think that anyone who has a high mortgage was an idiot for ever buying a house when they shouldn't have. Well, who knows when this woman bought her house? Who knows when she became ill? This could happen to everyone. It's the American Dream, right?

It's not that they booed a woman in a wheelchair. Hell, Dick Cheney was in a wheelchair at Obama's inauguration, and I would have taken a crap in his lap if I could have. It's that they didn't listen to her. The instant they realized she was pro-reform, she was shouted down. It didn't matter what else she had to say.

Full disclosure, I am for health reform, but something other than what's being offered. I think, so far, Obama has dropped the ball on this one. He's too hands off and needs to get his hands dirty. I think he's about to do that, but it might be too little, too late.

Also, to be clear, I am pro-death panels, as long as I get to be on the death panel, and as long as all of the people in that video are up for, um, Death Paneling.

How many bands, by the way, have probably changed their name to The Obama Death Panels? I know I would.

I am really scared of the Glenn Becks of the world. I guarantee you that if you polled that audience, 95% of the angry booing people watch Glenn Beck. He's a fucking nutjob.

Anyway, sorry for the lame blog post. I was going to post this link to Facebook, but had too much to say, I guess. So there you have it.

To recap:

People in New Jersey are assholes
I'd shit on Dick Cheney
The Obama Death Panels is a good band name
Obama has been stinky so far
Whoever boos loudest wins

2009-07-07T20:36:00.003-04:00

It has been almost two months since I last blogged. Sorry. You can follow me on the Twitter for more frequent and much smaller updates.

So what happened? Steve McNair killed Michael Jackson in a murder-suicide. Pretty crazy.

I had a lot of thoughts on this Michael Jackson thing, but who cares? I thought the whole thing was completely overblown and ridiculous, so I decided to not pay attention. That's all I can say.

You don't come here for my Michael Jackson thoughts, do you? No, you come here to see if I've updated. Then you leave. Oh, I found something I posted a long time ago about MJ. You can read that.

The other day I'm walking home, and I see this dude. He is eating a sandwich of some sort, possibly a wrap, with one hand, then he starts trying to text message with the other hand. This could be a challenge for anyone while walking, but this dude was riding a bike. If you are going to ride a bike in a downtown area, even if it is just Cleveland, you need at least one hand.

So obviously his plan didn't work so well. Maybe he was trying to update his Facebook status or Twitter page. @coolbikedude69 got a sweet chicken wrap from the deli and riding my bike. You know, it's important to know these things about your friends. But anyway, his front wheel starts to wobble and he has to stop. Then he slaps his handle bars. Like it was his bike's fault for not complying.

"Hey bike. I'm going to be a douche bag and eat this sandwich and Tweet about it. Take it from here. BIKE GO HOME NOW."

I assume that last part was because he thought his bike was voice activated.

What else has happened? I jumped out of a plane and then puked. Now I know that Tilt-A-Whirls and skydiving make me want to vomit. If I had to do one again, though, I'd jump from a plane.

Cleveland seems to be turning into a real city all of the sudden. I've seen things recently that I only ever used to see in New York. Guy peeing on the sidewalk! Gay rollerbladers! Um, the bike thing up there! I think that's it! But that's a lot for Cleveland! Oh, heard some people speaking French. What's up with that? In Cleeeeveland? Never!

Oh crap! I forgot there is a Michael Jackson candle light vigil going on at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame right now. So I have to go. Tomorrow there will be a vigil and a memorial for no more Michael Jackson coverage. What will CNN do? That Iran shit is over.

2009-05-20T17:08:00.002-04:00

Dr. Phil just said, "I don't care if she's setting you on fire, you don't lay your hands on a woman." Any of you bitches set me on fire, I will at least grab you by the shoulders and yell "WHY ARE YOU SETTING ME ON FIRE, YOU CRAZY WOMAN?!" And if at any point you feel I push you too hard, well, that's just the fire talking and I apologize.

Oh, why am I watching Dr. Phil, you ask? When I wake up in the morning, I turn on the NBC to get my weather from the chubby chick on the local news (I wake up before chubby Al Roker does his weather). So when I get home and turn on the TV, Dr. Phil is giving bad life advice to bad people.

Toole Dot Blogspot Dot Com Challenge! This one is for the ladies. Can one of my readers who is also a female please try to set Dr. Phil on fire? Let me know what happens. Get it on tape. I want to see if he's still a perfect Southern gentleman. Thanks.

2009-05-11T20:47:00.002-04:00

I continued my 2009 tradition of attending baseball games on holidays by going to the Indians game on Mother's Day. As I approached my seat, I thought, How nice. I will sit behind this lady who is here with her family on Mother's Day. Then I got to my seat and realized this was a dude with some very filthy hair. I am pretty sure his hair had swine flu.

It was so gross and greasy. He also had lots of dandruff. I didn't want to put my beer in the cup holder in fear that a hair or a hamster would fall out of it. It was really disgusting. I thought of maybe recommending Head & Shoulders. It would probably work better than what he currently uses, which I think is Wesson Oil & Mosquitoes.

My favorite part was this guy's granddaughter was sitting next to him and at one point she kept touching his hair. She was playing with him, kind of like bopping him on the head. I wanted to put her in a dishwasher. Anyway, later they left and had gone to the team shop, I guess, because he came back with a hat on. But while they were gone, we had some peanuts. There were some peanut shells and peanut shell dust that got on this girl's seat. She wiped it down for about a minute and looked absolutely horrified by peanut debris. Little girl, you just had your hands in hair that appears to be made of glue, SARS and Parmesan cheese. I think peanuts are okay.

Unless she was allergic to peanuts. In that case, stay away from baseball games.

2009-05-05T20:38:00.002-04:00

If I was a "mic'd up" professional sports player or coach, I would be so happy. I hate hearing forced conversations like the one they just showed during the Cavs game between the Cavs' head coach and the refs. It was just kind of dumb and unnecessary. If I was mic'd up, I would try to get some more interesting conversations going. Or at least try to get a rise out of some teammates.

Hey, that chick we did that thing with last night. You think she died?

Just so you know, when you're sliding into first and you feel something burst, diarrhea... diarrhea...

When was the last time you shit your pants?

Which is your least favorite minority? Overall and in this dugout.

The one URL that consistently shows up on my sitemeter (even when I wasn't blogging) is this one. I talked about it here way back when, but I am just confused as to why it produces so many hits. I find it odd. I also still get plenty of hits for Google searches asking about bat shit in Doritos.

Oh, hey, if anyone knows anyone who works for The Great Doritos Corporation of America, can you please ask them why they don't make the Guacamole Doritos anymore? It's so sad.

Haha. I just went to their web site and while it's loading, it says "Prepare to take snacking to a higher level." You know, because your snacking lately has been totally lax! You snack like a pussy!

You know what I used to take for granted in New York? Blimp sightings. Oh, and crack cocaine.

2009-04-26T03:51:00.003-04:00

Oh shit, I forgot I had a blog. Sorry, everyone. How awesome would it be if I announced my second retirement? It would be so very Favre of me. I've always said I should be more Favre-like, which explains my stubble and addiction to painkillers.

So what's up? Last weekend was Easter, so I did what any good Catholic boy should do and I went to watch a baseball game.

Jews! Easter Jews!

Cleveland is so black and white that it really is surprising to see any other ethnicity, religion (other than some form of Christianity) or hear a different language. When I lived in New York, I wouldn't even notice a Jewish person. Here, it's like, "HOLY SHIT! A JEW! THREE OF THEM!" Now I know why people stare. And to hear a different language in Cleveland? Unless I am at the Chinese joint in the food court (pretty much the Chinatown of Cleveland), the only time I hear a different language is if I am watching Lost and they are doing a Sun and Jin back story.

Anyway, I go to a lot of baseball games out here. I was at a game about two years ago and said to someone, "You'd think Sherwin-Williams would get a logo that's a little more green." Well, three years later and they haven't.

I mean, come on! Your logo is a gigantic paint can covering the earth with paint. You might as well add a guy taking a shit on it and maybe someone raping it. Or maybe someone shitting in Al Gore's mouth. That would be a good one. It would make me buy your paint.

Okay, I guess that's all I have for you right now. Let me just make sure. Easter Jews, Sherwin-Williams shitting in Al Gore's mouth. Yup, that's all I wanted to talk about. Good day.

Oh, one last thing. Since everyone and their Oprah has a Twitter account these days, you can follow me there if that's your thing. I'm not sure it's my thing, but oh well.

2009-04-20T08:16:00.004-04:00

I Googled "drew carey sucks" earlier, and somehow, this is the first image that shows up.

OK, sure. Anyway, I am working the overnight for the next two weeks, and while I used to love staying up "late" to watch TPIR, Drew Carey has just plain ruined it. No one could have followed Bob, but Drew is pretty much unwatchable.

Seeing this video compilation the other day only made me miss Bob even more. I'm sure those tribal children up there would agree.

2009-04-17T14:08:00.002-04:00

I was doing some actual grown-up reading earlier, then saw this poll (pole!) and turned into a 12-year-old.

2009-04-15T17:49:00.003-04:00

Hey, happy tea party day! So Glenn Beck is about three weeks away from doing his show completely covered in his own shit, right? OK, just making sure.

I was running late this morning because I had to pop a zit. I felt like I was on Saved By The Bell. I was Kelly.

Every once in a while when I'm at work and I'm walking back from the bathroom, I have this awful feeling that my dick is out. I quickly realize this is not the case, but it's a moment of unparalleled fear. You never know. Maybe something above the urinal distracted me - maybe a flier about a charitable donation or a huge booger - and I just totally forgot to do the one thing you need to do when leaving a urinal. Anyway, if I work with you and you see me walking around with my nethers showing, give me a heads up.

The same rule applies to if I have something in my teeth. Be subtle about it. Don't confuse the two, either. "Mike, you have a dick in your teeth."

Hey, so Talk Like A Pirate Day might have a different feel this year, huh? Learn your Somali now, bitches! Or I guess you can just talk about revenge deaths on French and Americans.

It's funny when you really put something like Talk Like A Pirate Day in perspective. Imagine going back to, oh, I don't know. Let's say 67 BC and telling someone there that in America (oh, we'll explain America later) we have a day where we say Arggh and stuff. It's hilarious. Then they'd say something like, "Oh, well, do you also rape and pillage on this day? Do you have Rape Like A Pirate Day?" Imagine in however many years, someone decides to make September 11th Talk Like A Terrorist Day. Just a bunch of people at work saying wacky things like Death to America and Praise Be To Allah and performing fake beheadings.

Anyway, I'm tired. Good night to you.

2009-04-12T09:14:00.002-04:00

I don't think I have to tell you that Cleveland is nothing like New York. Every once in a while, though, something happens that reminds me of the big city.

We had a cold spell this winter (pretty much from October 1 - probably middle of June). There was about one week where the wind chills were way below zero. I was walking to work, and when I first left my apartment, I thought that it wasn't too bad. The wind wasn't blowing, which makes all the difference. But when the temperature is about negative 10 (that was the real temp... not the wind chill), eventually, it doesn't matter that there isn't any wind. It's just damn cold.

Anyway, I was walking and about two blocks into my walk, I felt a funny feeling in my nose. At first, my nose started running, then it completely froze. It was odd. That's just an example of how cold it was.

About a block away from work, a chubby little lady started crossing the street. She did not have the right of way, but I think because it was so cold, she didn't care. Problem is, there is a car coming, which did have the right of way.

Keep in mind, it's about 6:30 in the morning. There isn't a lot of traffic. So this one car, a pick-up truck, starts beeping at the lady. She is a slooow walker. Her chunky little legs must have been frozen. The car keeps honking. He has to slow down, but just barely. It didn't really take much time out of his commute. As he is driving by (remember, it's fucking freezing out), he lowers his window, sticks his head out the window and yells, "HOOOONNNK!" He actually yelled "honk." Because his horn didn't get the point across.

I credit his unoriginality to the cold. Clearly, "It says don't walk, you oompa loompa!" would have been a better thing to shout. It would have stung a little more. But he was probably so cold when he rolled down his window, he forgot what he was going to say and all he could do was repeat the last thing he heard, which happened to be his car horn.

Oh well. It made me laugh. You usually don't see that kind of anger or road rage out here. One thing I don't miss at all about New York are the honking horns. But I can take a horn once in a while, as long as it is followed by someone then doing an impression of said horn.

2009-04-10T21:10:00.004-04:00

things come back. van halen. futurama. jesus. the red sox in '04. herpes. so why can't i?

a few things have made me want to get back to blogging. sure, there was The Team to Force Toole to Start Blogging Again Club on facebook, which was flattering, but then it ran to a halt, which was not very flattering. i am sure after a few posts, someone will start "the team to get toole to stop blogging again."

anyway, just had some crap rattling around in my noggin for a while. so i will start blogging about it again.

miss you. love you. will talk to you again soon.

mike

don't stop believin'

2008-02-18T22:35:00.002-05:00

Hey, it's been a fun almost five years. But this will be the last post on toole dot blogspot dot com. Thanks for reading. Thanks for writing. Thanks for being YOU! But I am done with this blog. Perhaps another one will sprout up in the future, but right now, I am putting this one to bed. In the meantime, you can try to find me at random bars. I'll be the guy in the goggles.

Peace out!

mike

bastard in a basket

2008-01-28T23:12:00.000-05:00

I had an asthma attack the other day. I probably get two a year, if that. Anyway, I couldn't locate my inhaler, so that was a problem. I had to go to a drug store to find some Primatene Mist. It is sometimes hard to find, because kids like to buy it to get an adrenalin rush. So some places won't carry it. You know, because it's more important to make sure some dumb, idiot kids don't die, as opposed to someone suffering from an asthma attack.

Anyway, the first store I went to did not have it. But before I found that out, I scanned the shelves. Next to me was an employee doing some stocking. I asked her if she had Primatene Mist. "You know (WHEEEEEEEEEZE), for asthma attacks (WHEEEEEEEEEZE)?" So she looked around at a few things and said, "No, I don't think so. But this might help." She pointed to Gas-X. I am not sure she knew what asthma was.

Anyway, I eventually found it at another store and did not die. So that was nice.

The more I see of Barack Obama, the less I think he is black. I mean, I know he's black, but he doesn't look black. I think he's more charcoal gray. I think he will be our first charcoal gray president.

Word to the wise: Don't go see No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood within three days of each other. It might hurt your brain. I mean, see both movies, but you need to see something retarded in between. Might I suggest Meet the Spartans. Just kidding. Please don't see that. For the good of your brain. Just take a week off between films.

You know how I have blogged about the nastiness of my work bathroom in the past, well today, it appeared that someone was making some sort of chicken mushroom broth in one of the stalls. I know that a lot of people at work read this, so if you are reading this, and you are thinking -- What's so bad about not flushing my shit or putting pubes on the toilet seat? -- well, you are the reason everyone else hates using the bathroom.

Although, without the people who crap up the bathroom at work, I would have nothing to talk about with lots of people. So I guess for the good of small talk, keep doing it. And yes, that is what I use as small talk. Instead of, "How was your weekend?" I like to ask, "See all those pubes?"

does eli manning have imminent death syndrome?

2008-01-13T20:02:00.000-05:00

Yay, football!

Since Eli won, I was going to post the Imminent Death Syndrome Mr. Show sketch, but I can't find it. Instead, here is The Audition. It is hilarious. Enjoy.

2008-01-10T23:43:00.000-05:00

I went to Subway today for lunch. I got a veggie sandwich, because the "meat" was looking extra slimy today. So veggies for me. Anyway, when I got to the guy at the register, he's all sucky at English, so he says to me, "Foot long wedgie?" Ha! No, thank you, sir! I'll just take my sandwich and go!

Jimmy Carter -- the man makes a good point.

2008-01-09T19:44:00.000-05:00

If you've ever wondered, Hey, I wonder if I have any paper cuts and don't know about them, I suggest you peel an orange. Holy nuts. I wasn't wondering if I had any, but I found out pretty fast.

I have not been so into the election yet, but I guess it is time to pay attention, huh? I like Ron Paul, only because he seems like he's kind of crazy, yet smart. That's a good combo. I also like what I heard from John Edwards in the last debate, but he can't fight the Clinton/Obama machines. Again, he still has that John Ritter nice guy look about him. He also talked way too much about how he came from a family of mill workers.

Whenever I drive back to New Jersey, there is this little town we pass that I want to move to. Tania does not. I tell her that I can work at the old mill. I don't know if they have an old mill, but it's a nice thought.

Here is my most insensitive joke in a while. We were watching one of the debates recently, and the candidates got to talking about what kind of Cabinets they would have. Bill Richardson said, "If I'm elected president, I'm going to have a Cabinet of Republicans, Democrats and independents." And then I said, "And Goya beans!"

I need to get into this election more, so if you have any recommendations, I am all ears.

Qualifications:

Must believe in evolution.
Must not be Mitt Romney.

That's pretty much it. Thanks.

Too bad about the evolution/Huckabee thing. He seems like a totally normal dude, otherwise.

GET ME A WHOPPER!

I love people freaking out about Whoppers. I could watch that all day. OK, not all day. I didn't even watch the entire seven minute video. The commercials amuse me.

Speaking of commercials, this one seems to have somehow increased its airing for some reason. The only reason I find this one funny is because it says in the beginning, "Professional driver. Closed course."

Be careful, kids. Do not attempt to drive your Jeep with singing animals.

it snows sideways in cleveland

2008-01-01T17:51:00.000-05:00

Happy new year. Another party at my apartment, another person puking in the bathroom. This time, they thought the sink would be a better place to do so than the toilet. Apparently, at some point, they realized their folly of vomiting in the sink and moved it over to the toilet. Another party goer was nice enough to clean up some of it. I won't get too into the details, but rumor has it there was a piece of sausage somewhere.

Sausage party!

Speaking of meat, here is an update on my 2008 bacon consumption.

Actual text message from a Cleveland sports fan:

i hope peyton manning dies in a drunk driving accident. and i hope the guy who hits him is dustin pedroia.

Every time I see a commercial for ER, I say, "Wait. ER is still on?" I say this every time. It's in my contract. I can't believe it is still on. Not that it's a bad show. It might be bad or maybe it's good, but I haven't watched it since Gilbert from Revenge of the Nerds died. I just feel like they already had a last episode.

Hey, since I have not much to blog about today, here are some random gmail chat lines, both about humping:

Jeff: If you really want that you should put it in your will because I'm going to be way too focused on getting a picture of myself humping your gravestone to take care of any requests.

----------------------------------------------

William: Although skirt might lead to not so dry humping.
me: skirt? dry humping? i am confused
William: Sorry. That was for someone else.
Innappropriate all the way around.
me: you freaky bastard!
William: I was threatening to dry hump someone.
Skirts don't work well for that.
Everybody knows.
me: oh. totally
yeah, i totally suck on balls
oh, sorry. that was meant for someone else
William: I will totally strike that from my memory then.
me: i floss with my own pubes
dammit! again, sorry

things to do

2007-12-28T00:06:00.000-05:00

Things to do in the new year:

Blog less.
Eat more bacon.
Remember to notify my notifylist on the rare occasion I do blog.

Sorry, notifylist.

really, this post is nothing. don't read it.

2007-12-19T02:00:00.000-05:00

Way back when, I got suckered in to subscribing to Cinemax. It was one of those deals where you get it free for a few months, but then you start paying, but I was all, "I'll cancel that shit before that happens." But I never did. So every once in a while, I watch a movie on Cinemax to make up for paying for it. (According to my friend Alberto, this is Cinemax -- "Oh, is this the channel that has movies where chicks hump guys on their belly buttons?")

Yes it is.

Anyway, the other night I watched Snakes on a Plane. Great film. If you haven't seen it, it's about these snakes that are in high school and vow to lose their virginity on spring break. They make this vow while on an airplane, hence the title.

Because I have nothing to really blog about and am just blogging for the sake of blogging (kind of like watering a plant that brings you little joy), here are some of my Netflix movie reviews:

Snakes on a Plane: Packs an emotional wallop similar to Schindler's List. But instead of the little girl in the red coat, a guy gets bit on the dick by a snake.

Rabbit Proof Fence: I haven't seen this movie, but I always think that is Kiefer Sutherland on the cover. And I think it's a movie about him being a farmer who has rabbits ruining his crops. So he gets a fence.

Rumor Has It: i have not seen this movie, but it's about a grandmother, a mother, and a daughter doing kevin costner. don't rent it.

Mannequin: Roger Ebert gave this movie half a star. He had a stroke about twenty years later. Heads up. Don't give this movie half a star.

The Last Kiss: Watching this movie was like having diarrhea for an hour and 44 minutes.

Hustle & Flow: It's like they watched my life and then put it up on the big screen. Except for the drugs, the rapping, the guns, the hookers and the black people, this is exactly like my life.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith: imagine the letter "Y" in the Hollywood sign took a crap. this is what would come out.

That's all I have for you. Good day.

2007-12-11T01:03:00.000-05:00

So yeah, in the previous post a couple of people left comments about the odd layout of my building. Well, since no one really stays in downtown Cleveland (or Cleveland at all, really), my building is just prepping everyone for the suburbs, so we have cul-de-sacs. And it's a former warehouse, so there are some odd layouts here and there.

I enjoy watching Wade Phillips coach. He looks like a guy who won some sort of contest to be a head coach. He just seems like a generally happy man. Honestly, when was the last time you saw an NFL coach this content?

It's almost enough to make me kind of root for the Cowboys. Almost. Plus, he kind of looks like Bob Newhart, which I think adds to his likability. I imagine Bob Newhart's pep talks to get the team rallied would be awesome. Just a lot of stammering and throat clearing and fake phone conversations with dead people.

I like when they show the clip of Ray Lewis trying to fire up the team before games. Like when he yells, "What time is it?!" and his teammates all yell, "Game time!" I like to yell out, "It's twelve forty five!" Or sometimes I mix it up and yell, "Quarter to one!"

I absolutely love how FOX has injury music.

Gmail chat is a fun thing. I know instant messaging has been around for a while, but somehow Gchat is more fun. And it produces some funny shit. When I have nothing to blog about, I am going to start taking lines and make posts out of them. For example:

Meg: immediately, i started compiling a list in my head of the top ten worst things to say to a retarded celebrity

these are the people in my neighborhood

2007-12-09T18:37:00.000-05:00

Just when I start complaining about nothing interesting happening to blog about, I happen to see this guy last night.

I was walking to a party, which was one floor up from my apartment and saw Sleepy Time Bear over there. I giggled, then walked into the party. I asked if anyone else had seen the dead guy in the hallway, but no one had. So someone tried to wake him up and asked if he was OK, and he apparently mumbled that he was. So we left him there. But then someone else went out there and was able to figure out which apartment was his by using some CSI investigation type shit (his keys were in his door).

So they were able to get him in safely. I am guessing he had a wicked headache this morning, not only from the drinking, but from the fall it seems he took.

My building tends to have a lot of former frat boys who like to yell "Woo!" a lot. Apparently, he was all wooed out. This was 10:30, by the way, and there wasn't a game in town or anything. Good times, bro. Good times.

i was funny two years ago

2007-12-06T00:35:00.000-05:00

So I went home for Thanksgiving. As I was leaving the Cleve, it was raining. It stopped raining about ten minutes away. The weather was perfect for the entire weekend. During the drive back, it started sleeting pretty much as soon as we saw the Welcome to Ohio sign. Not only that, but the sign slapped me in the face with its dick! Which begs the question, why give a sign a penis? And one so large?

Oh well. That's Ohio.

One thing I am not crazy about is this Christmas celebration they have downtown. When I moved here last year, I was excited about this shit. I thought it would be comparable to the Rockefeller ice rink. But no. It is basically a place for the homeless to take shits in a more festive atmosphere.

One of my favorite things about Christmas in New York was going to Rockefeller Center after work. It's crazy to go there at night, but I was leaving work at 3:00, so it wasn't too nuts. It was just fun to watch fat kids fall and whatnot.

I also flew to and fro Jersey this past weekend for my nephew's christening. My nephew, by the way, is cuter than anything you have ever seen. My mom has even told me and my other sister that there is no way to produce a better child, so we shouldn't try (not with each other, you sick bastards). Anyway, on the flight out, the lady came by with the drink cart. She and the other flight lady happened to be black. I tell her that I would like coffee. She asks me if I want cream or sugar and I decline. So she says, "You take it black?" It took every common sense bone in my body to fight every other bone and not say, "Yes. I take it black. Like my flight attendants."

I received an email forward the other day that warned me not to flash my lights at cars driving with their headlights on, because it might be a gang member initiation and they will kill me. My fix to that little pickle is that I kill anyone who is driving with their lights off. You can't be too safe, people.

Going back to this whole Tania has killed my blog thing. I don't believe it. I think it has more to do with not living in New York. See, when I lived in New York, there were at least seven bloggable things per day during my commute. Moving to Hoboken, which was almost the same exact time Tania and I met, changed things. My commute no longer involved the subway. The subway is the key to a successful blog.

Exhibit A -- the last time I blogged about the subway was right before I went to Chicago, where Tania and I met.

Exhibit B -- I still need to have a Riding the Bus With My Sister party.

Exhibit C -- I just read this shit and was like, Damn, I used to be so funny! But no, it's New York that was funny. Not me. That guy had a beer in his pocket.

And there is more, but I will stop. Except for this one. This has to be my most favorite thing I have ever witnessed on the subway.

blomo

2007-11-15T01:14:00.000-05:00

A co-worker let me know that this is BloMo. Or as the people call it, National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo). I like BloMo more. You are supposed to blog every day for the month of November. But since it is now November 15, I would have to make up for the last 14 days. That won't happen.

I had an idea where I would post something about every day, but that was on November 7. Things were so much easier back then. I was going to blog about chicken soup on November 1, then maybe blog about how Cleveland gets all the great trade shows and expos. Sure, Vegas gets their CES and porno shows, but Cleveland gets the Rubber Expo! Suck our rubber, Atlanta!

I can't begin to imagine the amount of condom jokes that go on in that expo. And really, can anything that has to do with just rubber be called an expo? The word carries a sense of grandeur, and rubber doesn't really cut it.

Wow... this is real.

"The Rubber Expo is held (in Cleveland) in odd-numbered years and highlights rubber and rubber-related industries. It features everything from tires, hoses and underwater face masks to the chemical companies, testing equipment and raw materials that make them possible."

I love how it also features "rubber-related" industries. I think I am going to start using that as an excuse for things at work. People will ask me what's wrong and I will say, "Eh, it's rubber-related. You wouldn't get it."

If I was participating in BloMo, I also would have blogged about how I've started to answer my phone whenever I fart in front of my girlfriend. I pretend that I now have a fart ringtone. I will fart and say, "Ooh, sorry, I have to take this." It's a great method and I can't imagine it ever getting old. I've taken farts and made them cute again. If it's a silent one and it's stinky, I tell her that my phone was on vibrate.

Speaking of my lady, I've heard a few complaints lately that she has been the Yoko Ono between my blog and I. They say my blog has not been the same over the last 2+ years, because of her. I quote a co-worker of a friend (from Australia, because I am global):

Toole has gotten too comfortable and friggin happy - everyone knows a writer needs to heartbroken and drunk to write his best. Only solution is for Toole to leave his wife....he owes it to his blog.

Well, I don't have a wife, so there's that. But I see what he means. Lozo also kind of mentioned something similar. The other problem with that email is that in order for me to be heartbroken, she would need to leave me. So for the sake of the blog, I am going to try and get some ladies pregnant. Whether or not I succeed is irrelevant. The important thing is that I tried.

So this past weekend, the lady (or as I like to call her, Yoko) and I went to Lola, the restaurant owned by your Next Iron Chef, Michael Symon. It was cool, because he was there and it was two days before the big finale, where he became the winner. He even came over and talked to us for a bit and Yoko made him laugh. The guy has a great laugh. He really does seem like the nicest guy in the world. You should all hang out with him.

The next day we went to Cracker Barrel. I got the triangle game down to two pegs.

It was the first time I have ever gone to the CrackBar without being on a road trip. It's really weird to go there when you aren't traveling, because all of the sudden you think, "Holy shit, these other people probably aren't traveling either! They are really going to the Cracker Barrel!" Anyway, it was fucking delicious. You can't go wrong with Chicken Fried Chicken. Lola was good, too. But whoever made my mashed potatoes at Cracker Barrel should have also been considered to be the Next Iron Chef.

It would be awesome to be a Cracker Barrel chef that got to go on the Iron Chef and they were all like, "The secret ingredient is... WHITE GRAVY!"

all of y'all

2007-10-30T01:29:00.000-04:00

I recently volunteered at a Boys and Girls Club out here in the Cleve. It was through work, which was a very nice thing for my office to do, but the club itself was kind of unorganized. There were no real events planned while we were there. They kind of just assigned you to a room and then said, "OK, go make a difference!"

Well, I tried, but I got stuck hanging out with Coach Something Or Other. I forget his real name. Anyway, he was a nice enough guy, but didn't go out of his way to get me involved. He just started playing football with a bunch of kids while I watched from the sidelines. I tried my best to be a good volunteer. One kid got elbowed in the mouth by another kid, so I told Coach that this kid had a bloody mouth and a loose tooth. I figured there would be some sort of protocol that was followed. He said to me, "Tell him to go wash out his mouth."

Get that blood outcha mouth, kid!

So that kid eventually went back out there, and I was secretly rooting for him to knock out the other kid. But he never did. Didn't have it in him. Which I guess is good. Seemed like a nice kid.

These kids were all in the 10 - 12 age group. And in the interest of full disclosure, were also mostly black and Hispanic.

Anyway, the kid who elbowed him was not the best sport. At one point, he scored a touchdown, then ran around (while holding his dick) yelling, "Yeah, all y'all niggas ain't gonna catch me!"

So I looked at Coach, thinking he would reprimand the kid for his celebration. But he said nothing. So I grabbed the kid, pulled him aside and was like, "Look, your celebration is not appropriate. You should be saying, 'All of you African-Americans cannot catch me!'"

Kids these days.

Finally, Googling "embryonic rockabilly polka-dotted fighter pilots" has paid off. At least until NBC shuts it down.

wowza

2007-10-24T02:05:00.001-04:00

It's been just about a month, huh? This is definitely the longest I have gone without blogging. Sorry, folks. I just don't have the fever anymore. I need more blogbell.

Back when I used to blog at work, that's when it was the shit. But then I stopped doing that, because I got promoted and couldn't really do it anymore. I also work in an office now with about 200 people or something crazy like that and a lot of them read it. So while I am flattered that a lot of people find it amusing, I can't talk shit about them.

I have thought about plenty to blog about over the last month, but just haven't done so. A lot of it had to do with baseball and how the Mets crushed my spirit once again and then how I got really into the Indians and then they let me down. And and and. Other stuff.

I never thought that Chief Wahoo was all that racist. It is just so cartoonish. But then when you see an idiot do this to their face, you think, Whoa, that is some racist shit going on right there.

Thank god all Native Americans are dead, otherwise there might have been a protest or something.

The last baseball thing I will mention is old. Some idiots in Chicago named their kid Wrigley. Their last name happens to be Fields. This is funny to me because whenever I think of Wrigley Field, the first thing that pops into my head is this awesome video.

Apparently, there is some question as to whether or not it's Wrigley, but no matter. Enough people thought it was Wrigley for a long time, so that is what I will continue to believe. It was the first thing I had heard. Same reasoning for thinking that Iraq and Saddam Hussein had something to do with 9/11.

How drunk do you have to get to treat a piss trough like a Slip 'n Slide?

Holy shit. I just Googled Slip 'n Slide and can't believe how many different kind of Slip 'n Slides there are. When I was a kid, it was pretty much a yellow piece of plastic that you got wet and then jumped on. I totally want the Triple Racer.

Anyway, what else do you want to talk about? I got a BlackBerry from work, so I am officially an asshole. There was an insert in the box that had a list of what was inside. One of the things was a "holster." It made me want to quit my job. I don't think I want to be the owner of a BlackBerry holster. Instead I think I am just going to wear it around my neck. I'll be the 21st century Flavor Flav instead of the one that they have on VH1. "You can always get in touch with me, boyyyy!"

So I've been watching 30 Rock and the American Office. Holy crap, both are so funny. Yeah, I know I am a year or two behind, but I did watch the first season of The Office, and it wasn't any good. Almost every episode was like one of the British episodes. But I kept hearing stuff about the second season, so I Netflixed it and am glad I did. Creed is the greatest. His blog is fantastic.

And 30 Rock. Holy nuts. Tracy Morgan. I was randomly laughing at work today just thinking about the line, "Nothing unusual. Russian mobs, invisible motorcycles, sex pooping."

Sometimes Google is a total tard. I just Googled "need more blogbell" to see if anyone has said that before, so Google asks me "Did you mean: 'need more blogball'".

How does that make any more sense? Just so you know, there are also zero results for need more blogball. So if anyone wants to (TM) that, it's all yours.

Peace out.

i feel like chicken tonight

2007-09-25T23:25:00.000-04:00

I had a dream last night that I had a piece of chicken for a pet. A piece of fried chicken. But it was a living and breathing piece of chicken. I think it was a chicken breast. Maybe a thigh. But it was totally cooked and seemed as though it had been breaded with Shake 'n Bake. It was a fine pet. No face or anything. As far as I know, it did not poop, which would make for a good pet.

I don't remember much else about the dream, but I must have been hanging out with other pet owners. Some dog owner kissed their dog and I told them it was disgusting. But no one there seemed to mention how gross or odd it was that I had a piece of cooked chicken as a pet.

I pass by this one homeless dude just about every day on my way to work. He never really asks me for money, so as far as I am concerned, he's pretty much the best homeless guy ever. Lately, there has been this campaign in downtown Cleve urging people to not give change to panhandlers. It basically says that sometimes people are lying about being homeless, so the money you give to people may be doing more harm than good and urges you to donate to charities that help the homeless.

Well, today I am walking by this homeless guy and these two people from the Cleveland Downtown Alliance are putting up this big old poster board thing right next to this guy. I felt bad because he looked pretty hurt as they were putting it up. At least wait for him to go take a shit behind Quizno's before you do that to the poor guy. Granted, if he was a homeless dude who asked me for change every day, I would have been all, "Yeah, in your face Johnny No House!" I am not trying to make a joke there. That is his actual name.

When I was in London, I amused myself (not Tania so much, though) by making up fake British terms for things. You know, because they say things all dumb and shit, like "flat" instead of "apartment" and "lift" instead of "elevator" and "prime minister" instead of "president." Anyway, I made up a few terms that I found quite brilliant. (Some little kid was on our flight going over to England and he told the flight attendant that he thought America was "quite brilliant." I wanted to smack him.)

Anyway, the only two made-up things that I can remember were hiccups were called "esophagus bumps" and a car accident is called an "auto mashy." Said with a British accent, these sound quite brilliant.

This was almost the greatest street sign in the world.

This picture was in the dining room on the ship. I was sitting there one night and thought to myself, I wish my chest was as ripped as that baby.

Seriously. Look at his forearms. Normally, I'd feel pretty confident in fighting a baby, but I'd have reservations about this one.

I was pretty psyched in France, because I saw Blue from Old School. This is not really him, but it is almost him. This poor guy thought he was in Ireland. He was trying to speak Gaelic to all the Frenchies. You're my boy, Blue.

Speaking of France, they lived up to their reputation of being intolerable assholes. Well, just one guy really. I was walking around and went into this little shop that had a bunch of baby clothes, so I was looking for stuff for my nephew. It was here that I realized that the only French I knew was "oui," "bon jour" and "ooh la la." A lady that worked there asked me a question in French and I just stared at her like an idiot. I assumed she asked me if I needed any help. I smiled and shook my head.

So I bought something and was waiting in line. There was this dude who was working there who was speaking with the lady in front of me and the lady's son. He was very friendly and was being very playful with the kid. So I get up there and he says a bunch of crazy French shit. I apologize (in English) that I don't speak French. Granted, I could have at least learned that, but I didn't really think of it. I was in Paris for about three hours, so I didn't feel the need to learn the language. I thought "ooh la la" would have gotten me through the day.

He went from the friendliest guy ever to the biggest prick. His whole face changed and he never looked me in the eye after that. When the price came up on the cash register he pointed to the numbers and then said them very slowly in English. You know, because I can't read French numbers. He swung the bag at me and said "haveagooddaybyebye."

Other than that, French people seemed to be nice. There was this tour guide lady who reminded me of my mom, if my mom was 40 and French.

For some reason, my mom has look-alikes that are tour guides. You might remember when I was in Chicago and my tour guide was my mom, if she was a Hot Pocket.

Oh, speaking of my nephew, here he is. This picture is from when he was about three weeks old. Pictured here, from left to right, me, my double chin, Oprah, Ian.

balls

2007-09-12T00:46:00.001-04:00

Hi there. So my sister is a singing and dancing queer on a cruise ship, which is how I got to go to a ton of different places in two weeks. My vacation started off in DC, where I went to a wedding for my old pal, Matt, who you might remember as the guy who got his head knocked open while whitewater rafting. You might also remember him as the guy who yelled "LOOK AT HIS BALLS!" That had nothing to do with my sister. My trip with her started in Southampton, England.

I have lots to tell you about my vacation, but whether or not I will actually tell you about it is up in the air. Only because I am lazy.

Maybe here are some pictures, in order of places visited.

Here we (me and me lady) are in Wales. We went on this bike trip. Some guy drove by in his tiny little car blasting some rap music. It was not very old country. It wasn't even old school. It made me feel like I was not in Wales. But then some old dude walked by later with milk and bread in a basket. I was okay with that.

Here is me and my kid sister (the singin' and dancin' queer) enjoying a beer at a pub after some biking. Unfortunately, we had to bike back after this. Everyone kind of just wanted to get drunk and not do any more biking.

Here is my lady trying her first Guinness ever. It was always one of those things she just assumed she would hate. But she was in Dublin and at the Guinness Brewery, so she had to have one. After some deliberation, she realized she liked it. That made me really happy.

There was an impromptu chugging contest between Tania and Laurie. My sister learned that you do NOT challenge Tania to any sort of chugging contest. Whether it be beer, Diet Coke or bacon grease... Tania will learn you good!

Here is a picture from the Edinburgh Military Tattoo. It's one of the coolest things I have ever seen and has nothing to do with tattoos. By the way, go to Edinburgh. Holy shit, what a city. It makes Cleveland seem like only the second best city in the world. Seriously, Edinburgh is just beautiful. It's prettier than you and has a nicer accent. You should go.

There is more to be had, but I need to go to bed. I will post more later.

Our flight from DC back to Cleveland was on the Enola Gay. Or maybe it was the Spirit of St. Louis. Either way, it was fucking tiny and it had propellers.

kingdom, unite!

2007-08-16T23:45:00.000-04:00

I am going to be on vacation for a few weeks, so instead of my general apathy and laziness, I now have an excuse for not blogging. If you live in DC, London, Wales, Scotland, Ireland or Paris, you just might run into me. Keep your eyes open. Catch you on the flip flop.

teeth

2007-08-13T11:37:00.000-04:00

TEETH IN MIRROR ARE YELLOWER THAN THEY APPEAR

hello cleveland

2007-07-29T01:30:00.000-04:00

So the other night, I saw Carl "have you ever performed a sexual act at the library" Monday at a wine bar down the street. When we got there, two tables were available, but one had a reserved sign on it. I was wondering who was good enough to get that and it turns out it was Carl "you just reached out and grabbed for it and started having sex" Monday.

If you don't know him, Carl "you didn't think having sex underneath the table at the library was wrong" Monday is an investigative reporter out here in the Cleve. I figured he has to make reservations no matter where he goes, because if managers see him walking in, I would assume the natural reaction is for them to cut him off at the door and say, "No, uh uh. Get out of here."

I can't find two of my favorite Mr. Show sketches on YouTube, but if you know them, here is where I was going to post either the wishing well investigative report or the Car Wash Change Thief Action Squad. Oh well.

Top two signs you are not a good opening band.

1. There is a dude about ten feet from you playing Tetris on his phone.

2. You are this band.

So I went to see Interpol last weekend and this band named Calla opened up for them.

Here is a quick list of opening bands that I have enjoyed:

The Roots, Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, PJ Harvey.

Granted, those were established bands that opened for even more established bands. But I have seen opening bands that I really enjoyed but I forgot who they were.

Here is a quick list of bands that I thought were the worst things I have ever seen:

Calla.

It wasn't that they played bad music, but their singer was just so bad. He just had this tortured hipster voice about him that ruined it for the rest of us.

Anyway, if you ever want to see Interpol, they are pretty good live, but you can probably just do the following and it's kind of like seeing them live:

1. Play all of their albums on shuffle. Loud.
2. Invite people over to sing into your ear. Be sure they are drunk (the people, not your ears).
3. Give forty dollars to TicketMaster.

That's pretty much it. Not to say I didn't enjoy the show, but they were predictable, I suppose. Some songs were really fun, but they were for the most part exactly how they sound on their albums. Which isn't a bad thing, but there was no spontaneity.

The highlight of the show was actually an idiot fan who was wearing sunglasses inside. It was really dark in there, so there was no reason for sunglasses. But right from the start, we saw him and said things like, "What a douche" and "Seriously?" Anyway, when Interpol came on, this guy was jumping around like a goon and had his arms going all over the place. It was a general admission show, so there was lots of standing. He was knocking into people and seemed to have no regard for anyone else.

During the third or fourth song, he made his way to the front without excusing himself. He just crashed up there jumping and waving his arms. Security grabbed him immediately and threw him out. What was funny was that it seemed at first, he thought he was going to be brought up on stage. He started hugging the security guard as if the guard was trying to bring him up to the stage. I think he thought he was going to get to do a duet, all Springsteen / Courtney Cox style, but they were trying to throw him out.

I think I am too old for rock and roll shows these days. I get grumpy. When people yell "Woo!" during the middle of a song for no reason, I kind of want to be like, "Shut up! Show some respect! You are at a rock and roll show, for christ sakes!" I am always looking out for the sakes of christ.

When I was at Lollapalooza in 1994 (holy god I am old), there was some guy when the Beastie Boys came on who was trying to start a mosh pit amongst people who did not want to mosh. Me being one of them. He kept knocking into people and annoying everyone around him. Finally, there was some huge black dude near us, who grabbed the guy in a way that is hard to explain on a blog. But he put one hand on the guy's chest, the other on his back, kind of picked him up and then slammed him down to the ground on his back. It was probably the most awesome thing I have ever seen. I wish that black guy would be with me at all concerts. So if someone is annoying me, I can just say, "Hey Giant Black Guy, do that thing where you almost break someone's back on the ground to that guy. I love that."

Hm. So the point of this post is that I wish I had a big black guy.

pubes, pubes everywhere, so let's all take a shit

2007-07-17T01:04:00.000-04:00

Let me tell you about the fourth stall in the bathroom at work. People enjoy it, because it is the farthest away from the door. You know, so it feels the most private. Well, lately it has become fairly disgusting.

First, someone wrote on the wall a few weeks ago. I am all for writing on walls at bars because it amuses me when I am drunk. It can be funny. But I don't want the bathroom that I use at work to turn into a bar bathroom. Bar bathrooms are tolerable because they are at bars and you are drunk. Work bathrooms are tolerable because you can hide in there from work and catch up on your text messaging and Tetris.

Anyway, someone wrote on the wall, "What country is this?" And below that is a "drawing" which is basically a very uneven decagon. Maybe about two inches by two inches. I know geography fairly well and I am pretty sure this is not a rendering of any country. It's just some hoodlum that wants to get a dialogue going on the crapper. So his question goes unanswered for a few weeks, but then the other day, an answer!

Beneath the question "What country is this?" now reads, "Yourbuttistan?"

Now, it is written as a question, as if this person is taking a guess. But if you look at it, the handwriting is exactly the same. So my conclusion is that the question asker went into the bathroom every day to see if anyone answered. After going a few weeks with no response, he decided to make it seem as if someone else is actually playing along.

After such a long wait, I was hoping for a better answer. Actually, it's not the answer that bugs me so much. It's the drawing. If it resembled a butt, I would maybe giggle at it. If maybe he drew a butt with a terrorist sticking a piece of dynamite in the butt crack, then I would laugh.

Oh well.

So that's not so bad, you say. Only one dude writing an innocuous joke. I would agree with you. But recently, maybe two weeks ago, something else started happening in everyone's favorite poop stall. I walked in there one day and the toilet seat is covered in pubes. I mean, not the random two or three that can show up on a toilet seat or on envelopes. I am talking ten pubes. Someone had to make an effort of walking into the stall, sticking their hand down their pants, then proceed to rake their nethers. Then, not place them in the toilet to flush them, but place them all around the toilet seat as if they are a chef sprinkling garnish on a plate.

I have seen this twice. Meaning more than once. This is just crazy. If you work with me, please pay attention. If anyone sits near you, then all of the sudden is like, "Oh my god, I have so many pubes! Too many, in fact!" Then they get up and go to the bathroom and then they come back and they are like, "There. Not as many pubes as before." If you hear that, I think we have our man!

We get about an email a week about how the kitchen is always a mess and people need to clean up after themselves. I am going to start my own, "hey, don't forget to flush your pubes" email.

Apparently, I work in a frat house. It's gross. But at least it's not some third world country, like Yourbuttistan. Oh, I didn't even mention all of the boogers on the wall. Yeah, boogers! Fucking everywhere.

Boogers and pubes. That would be a good cartoon for Adult Swim. Boogers and Pubes. They would fight crime, but no one would ever congratulate them because no one wants to shake hands with a pube or hug a booger.

bush needs more time

2007-07-13T10:45:00.000-04:00

I think this headline is wrong -- Bush war policy needs more time, says Rice. I believe it was supposed to say Bush war policy needs more time machine, says Rice.

More time machine, please!

you suck at driving

2007-07-10T00:02:00.000-04:00

If you were driving on the Pennsylvania Turnpike this past Sunday driving east to west, I just wanted to let you know that you suck at driving.

Why do people love tailgating? OK, so I am driving in the left lane at a decent speed and passing people on the right, then someone will get up all in my butt. So I see them in the rearview and say, "OK, Mr. Up My Butt, I will move to the right and let you pass because you obviously have a pregnant lady in the car or you are bringing a computer chip to Jack Bauer."

Here is the part where I get all road raged. When I move to the right and continue at the same speed, they don't pass me. This makes me crazy. They just stay at the same speed, only now, they are not dangerously close to violating my innards. But what makes this even better is when they then move into the right lane to continue the tailgating. I think I need a bumper sticker that reads, "I am not the pace car, you NASCAR loving asshole. Get out of my draft."

Anyway, while I was getting all enraged about this, it made me focus my rage on something else: Sbarro.

Why does this restaurant exist? I think I ate at one once, and I am pretty sure it was terrible. I don't really remember it, but I know it was awful. It has to be. I have heard people say they like Burger King or McDonald's, but no one has ever said "Oh man, I love Sbarro." I can't even pronounce it. The letters don't make sense. Who puts a b after an s?

I just went to their web site and apparently you can buy their sauces. Good lord. If you like your sauce bland, go here.

I always hated the fact that there would be people in the Sbarros in New York City. That would be like being surrounded by the best steakhouses in the world, then saying, "Hey, an Applebee's!"

I don't have much else to say on the topic. But Sbarro is now in the top ten of my things I hate for an arbitrary reason list. I don't know what else is on that list.

I should make a list of things I have a fear of for no reason. Here are two of them:

-- Being attacked by an animal while I am on the toilet (this animal could come from the toilet itself or just walk through the door)
-- Chinese stars

I am pretty sure the Chinese stars thing comes from watching Kung Fu on weekends as a kid. Channels 9 and 11 always had the most violent shit on. An animal armed with Chinese stars attacking me while taking a dump is my biggest fear ever.

Oh, by the way, when I say I am afraid of Chinese stars, I mean these:

Not these:

Proof of that here:

i forgot how to blog

2007-07-03T10:17:00.000-04:00

It's funny that I haven't blogged in a month, but I still check my sitemeter. And now that it's down to 2003 readership levels, I still get pissed. Why aren't you assholes checking my blog more often to see if I update? Aren't you worried about me?

Anyway, you should probably blame my girlfriend. She is the reason my blog sucks. See, back in the day when I had a hilarious thought, I would blog about it. Now I just tell Tania and then apologize for leaving socks everywhere. See, you guys never got the socks part. She gets both.

So she is stealing this blog from you. She should start her own blog. It should be a blog about the hilarious things I tell her, and then she blogs about them. Perhaps I will start one for her. Here it is. Tania doesn't know about it, so she hasn't blogged on it yet.

Truthfully, blog friends, I have pondered putting this blog to sleep because I have not cared much about it lately. The only reason I kept it going is because next week I will be off of the overnight shift. I am thinking that I might blog a little more on a normal schedule. We shall see.

I also find myself getting more annoyed with politics and whatnot, so I am thinking that might inspire me a little. Man, that George W. Bush is an asshole, huh? I am surprised his approval rating isn't lower. How people can still support him is baffling. What's even more baffling is that his Libby partial pardon is what's getting people more outraged than anything else. Everyone saw this one coming. Who cares? Libby was a scapegoat anyway. He was far from innocent, but closer to innocent than many other people involved. He was never going to spill the beans. Oh well. There is so much more to get your knickers in a twist over.

Hey, if you aren't watching Flight of the Conchords, you are an asshole. Or you don't have HBO. Either way, you are missing out, you HBO-less assholes.

Finally, the biggest news in this little life of mine is that I am an uncle. My sister Christina had an awesome little dude named Ian who I can't wait to meet (damn you, Ohio!) I will see him this weekend, so I am excited. But I can already tell you that he is cuter than your nephew. Sorry.

Anyway, I am officially Weird Uncle Mike From Cleveland.

Oh, one last thing for real. Don't go whitewater rafting for your bachelor party. You can break your head open and get your lady to be real pissed off. Just ask my pal, Vladi.

rise up!

2007-06-05T10:17:00.000-04:00

So Cleveland went kind of apeshit on Saturday. As you probably know, the Cleveland Cavaliers are going to the NBA Finals for the first time ever. You may also know that Cleveland is one of the longest suffering sports cities in the country. So when something like this happens, well, people get happy. After they won, the lady and I went outside to people watch, and it was hilarious, fun, sad at times and just overall thoroughly entertaining. The youtube clips here are pretty fun.

That's pretty much what it was. Nothing but high fives all over the place. People standing in the street high fiving every hand in every car that went by. People were actually getting out of their cars to hug people. I have never seen so many black people and white people hugging each other. It was like the bizarro LA riots.

We were sitting outside at this restaurant across the street from us, but when we sat there we realized that the people sitting near us were actually from Detroit. We knew this because they were the only people not high fiving. There were three of them. Three dudes. All I would guess in their late thirties, early forties. One was just drunk and pissed. He just sat there and stewed as he drank his Heineken. Every person that walked by and went "Woo!" just made him madder. Someone would randomly yell "Detroit sucks!" and he would give them the finger, but conveniently after they passed by. Then there was one other guy who was so drunk that he probably couldn't find his middle finger if you held up his fingers and said, "It's between this one and this one."

The other guy appeared to be the only smart one. He was actually enjoying the mayhem. He just kept saying, "This city is going nuts."

It was. It was lots of fun and I almost felt guilty for rooting for the Cavs because I know a lot of these people have been disappointed for years by their sports teams. Then I get here and the Cavs actually have a chance of winning a championship, the Indians are very good, and the Browns actually seem to have a future. It's fun. When we first moved here, Tania and I walked by a guy who was wearing a Browns jacket and she said, "It's so cute how they actually like the Browns."

My only complaint is the negativity. I went to the Indians game on Friday where the Tribe (I call them that because I am from Cleveland) scored five runs in the bottom of the ninth to win the game. Without a doubt the most exciting baseball game I have ever been to. But the Indians fans just kept chanting "Detroit sucks!" That's just stupid. One, because they don't suck, and two, you should be rooting FOR your team, not against the other team. Know what I mean? I feel the same way when Mets fans start chanting "Yankees suck." It's just dumb because most of the time when it is being chanted, they don't actually suck. This year, a different story, but be a little more positive, you know?

Hey, so some douchebag put a postcard/advertisement on my windshield a while ago and then it rained. So it got stuck to my car. Now, it's always techno night in my Honda Civic.

I believe the real Techno Night takes place at Club Dickhead in case anyone is interested in going.

Speaking of dickheads, I tried to post something a few weeks ago that Blogger just wouldn't let me. Anyway, it was a request for AJ Soprano to kill himself because I just couldn't watch him "act" anymore. Well, he tried his damndest, but that rope was just too long and Tony came home a little too soon. Oh well. I wish the Sopranos kids were like the kids from the Vacation movies and they were different actors every season. Anthony Michael Hall would have made a great second season AJ. The real AJ hasn't been any good since he said, "What, no fucking ziti now?" And that was in the first episode.

Anyway, if I had to put money on how Tony will get killed over on Lozo's blog, I will go with that he won't get killed and there will be a Sopranos movie in three years. But there are no odds on that one. Actually, here's how it will go down. Tony and Phil will kill each other. Then everyone will be left to wonder who will take over the two families. Well, it won't matter, because those two terrorists are going to set off a nuclear device in Manhattan which will wipe out the entire tri-state area. It will be a perfect lead in to HBO's next original series, New-clear Jersey.

I need to go to bed.

farewell, phone

2007-05-23T09:25:00.000-04:00

I got a new phone today. Very sad for my old phone. You might remember when my old phone was my new phone, and I took a picture of my old old phone to shame it. Well, now my new phone can take videos. Hello, YouTube!!! Hopefully, I will be there the next time a celebrity says the N word in a comedy club.

In memory of my old phone, I will now reminisce and go through some old text messages.

The first text message is fairly recent and it is from my younger sister. I woke up one day, turned on my phone, and this was the text: Sending you a pic of midget wrestling.

She didn't send the pic for three days! I was so bummed. Even more so when I got it, because it was difficult to even tell that they were midgets or that they were wrestling. It looks kind of like an elementary school play or something. Or something from Disney's Hall of Midget Presidents.

This next text is from my old pal Wilkens. I called him one night really drunk from a bar and had an apparent incoherent conversation. At least on my part. Anyway, the next day I woke up and had a text that read: I want to put my phone on your balls.

I had no idea what this meant. Luckily, gmail chat was there to clear things up:

me: hey, wilkens!
the last time i spoke with you, i was wasted
matt: this, this is very true
me: i don't remember so well
matt: it was quite hysterical, let me tell you
me: i have a text message from you saying 'i want to put my phone on your balls'
i've been trying to figure out what that could possibly mean
i am sure you did not want to really do that
matt: it's a direct quote from you, as you were talking to glenn that night.
although it actually might have been "i want to put my balls on your phone"
either way, it was funny.

Ah, drunken phone calls are always the best, and my old phone was kind enough to facilitate many of those.

Here is another one from my sister: Your father has the longest nose hair i have ever seen hanging out of his left nostril.

Hi dad! That was in December, so I am sure it's gone. And come back. And gone again.

The next one is from Meg, who wrote out of the blue one day: I just saw the fat you! My favorite part about it is how excited she seems to have been, and how she texted me immediately afterwards.

This one is from my lady and it's special because she used to hate baseball: Struck out chipper. 2 outs in 8th. 6 to 4 with tying runs on for atlanta.

See, she used to hate baseball and made that clear very early on in our relationship. Actually the second day that we pretty much knew each other, we were sitting at Wrigley Field when she told me she wasn't such a big fan of baseball. Ha! Not anymore. She now knows what it's like to be a Mets fan and how they will disappoint you after teasing for so long. See last year's playoffs. Anyway, she sent me that text when I couldn't watch a game for some reason.

Soon I will get her to like other things that I enjoy, like leaving socks all over the place and keeping the door open while pooping. Speaking of things she doesn't like so much, here is a text I sent to her a while ago: Love you too. sorry about the fart.

Here is a text I sent to Tania soon after we moved to Cleveland. It was one of my first nights out at a Cleveland bar: A fat midwest guy has his hand down the crack of his fat midwest girlfriends pants.

You know, because bars in New Jersey and New York are really classy.

I sent this one to Doug right after we landed in New Orleans for his wedding: Alberto has already shown me his boobs three times.

Here is my favorite. I sent this to Tania after I had to find a bathroom in a hurry while I was at a mall: While i am doing much better, the bathroom at borders may never be the same again.

Well, since I took a picture of my old old phone with my old phone, I guess now I should take video of my old phone. Better yet, here is a video of my old phone watching a clip on YouTube of Kramer saying "nigger." Video courtesy of my new phone.

Thanks for the memories, old phone!

go cavs

2007-05-07T11:20:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I went to game one of the Cavs vs. Nets out here in fancy old Cleveland. My lady won tickets at a bar a couple of weekends ago. It just goes to show you kids -- always enter every wet t-shirt contest you can. You never know what can happen.

So there I was, conflicted by who I should root for. Do I root for the home state New Jersey Nets or do I root for my new city Cleveland Cavaliers? Well, being that I never gave much of a shit about basketball to begin with, the choice was clear: mob mentality! Go Cavs!

When I was a kid, I played two years of organized basketball. I am pretty sure that in those two years, I scored five points. One of which was a free throw, so no three pointers for me. In case you might think I was one of those guys who was strong on the boards, I think my final defensive stats were zero blocks and half a rebound. I got called for traveling a lot. The best part about those two years is that this kid named Bryan Menar was on my team and he was awesome. We won the championship both years because of him. I have two trophies for a sport where I contributed absolutely nothing to the team. Our team photo one year is awesome, because Bryan isn't in the picture. He was late to that game, and you can see our coach just looking towards the door with a very concerned look on his face, waiting for Bryan Menar to show up.

Anyway, Cavs game. Their playoff slogan this year is "Rise Up!" So they keep showing this on the big board and showing random people standing and they are encouraging people to Rise Up! at critical junctures of the game. And they keep showing this little kid in a wheelchair who is waving his Cavs towel. Now, he is good at waving that towel, but no matter how loud the arena gets or how encouraging that JumboTron is, this kid just won't Rise Up!

I felt bad. But then I saw Jay-Z on the JumboTron and I forgot all about that kid. And I am pretty sure that he'd be able to beat me at basketball.

seis de mayo

2007-05-06T02:33:00.000-04:00

I live across the street from this place called Adult Mart. It is not a place to purchase adults. It is a sex shop. It used to be somewhat discreet and not all that noticeable, but a few months ago, things must have been good for Adult Mart and they bought a brand new, in your face sign that you just can't avoid. I have been meaning to take a picture of it, but it's kind of weird to stop in front of a sex shop and take photos.

Hey, they have a web site! Um, of course that link is not safe for work. Unless you work at Adult Mart. I like how it says "Discreet Online Shopping" but the first thing on there is a picture of a vibrator and says "Description: Soft clitoral stimulating rabbit has powerful vibrating ears." Nothing says discretion like powerful vibrating ears!

There is a bar right next to it that I frequent. One day I was sitting on their front patio and these somewhat older dudes were sitting at the next table. Probably in their early forties. Anyway, one of the guys wanted to smoke but he couldn't find a lighter anywhere. So he says to his pal, "I'm going to check in Adult Mart. You need any dildos or big fists?" That made me giggle. It wouldn't be nearly as funny if he hadn't thrown in the big fists.

new post

2007-04-30T20:44:00.000-04:00

Since so many people loved the post of the shit eating elephant, I decided not to blog for a while. What can I say? People love to see an elephant jam its trunk way up another elephant's asshole and then pull out a load of shit and then eat it. It's one of those things Americans just can't get enough of. It's kind of like American Idol.

Anyway, there was one gal who wasn't so crazy about it and asked that I post something new. I have nothing really to blog about, so I will tell you to go and donate some money to Meg for the AIDS Walk and help some kids with AIDS.

Just so you know, I will be participating in a walk that takes place here in Cleveland this summer. It is a benefit for shit eating elephants. Stay tuned to see how you can donate.

poop

2007-04-20T01:29:00.000-04:00

So now the next time you are caught in the middle of an awkward conversation between two other people, you can say, "Oh hey, I saw this YouTube clip of an elephant eating shit out of the asshole of another elephant."

Thanks, Kimmy!

asshole

2007-04-18T11:09:00.000-04:00

I try to stay away from the news a few days after a big tragedy. It's just too depressing. All I need are the facts. Guy was crazy, people died, everyone is sad. I mean, it just makes my head hurt to read that a Holocaust survivor - a fucking Holocaust survivor - was killed by this guy. So after I read that, I decided to not read about any more victims. They are either stories like that, or they are about people who had so much to do and so much to give to the world.

Well, turns out a girl that went to my high school was one of the victims. She graduated seven years after I did, so I never knew her, but it made me want to find out more about her. And, of course, she was one of those people who was going to do a lot for the world - literally.

Her name was Julia Pryde and she was a graduate student in the Biological Systems Engineering department. That means she wanted to do good things for the Earth. You just have to Google her name and read whatever you find and you'll be impressed by her.

Then I realized Earth Day is this Sunday, which is probably like her Christmas, and it made me want to do something for her. So I guess I'll plant a tree or something. Maybe I won't do it right on Earth Day, but I will. Hey, you should too! Do something. Plant a tree for Julia, ok? I've never done much in my life, and she did a lot, so maybe this will catch on and I'll feel like I did something nice.

So here you go. Plant a tree for Julia.

it's a gentleman

2007-04-11T15:19:00.000-04:00

So since I live in Cleve and the Mets still live in New York, I ordered the MLB Extra Innings package so I can catch all the action! And one of the best things about it is seeing games in other markets, but more importantly, listening to the commentators from other markets.

I am watching the Cardinals vs. Pirates game right now, and the two guys doing it are the most tired sounding baseball fans ever. I've been muting the TV here and there to watch a YouTube clip or two, and sometimes when I un-mute it, I don't hear anything for about ten seconds. It's like these guys forgot there was a baseball game they were being paid to broadcast.

Anyway, a foul ball just went into the stands and a fella with long hair came out of a scrum with the ball. He had a beard and was obviously a dude. Here was the exchange between these two really tired guys:

Tired Guy 1: Great effort by that young lady.

Tired Guy 2: It's a gentleman.

TG1: I know. Heh heh.

TG2: I was thinking she was pretty aggressive, heh heh.

TG1: That is one nappy headed ho.

OK, one line I made up, but the rest is true. It's amusing how people are still shocked by dudes with long hair. I guess it's not as popular as it used to be, but still. It was funny to hear these guys act as though long hair on a fella was something crazy. It's like my dad was broadcasting the game. He is still shocked by people with lots of tattoos or piercings anywhere other than the ear. We'll be in New York City, a city that my dad has either lived in and around for his entire existence, and some dude with a pierced lip and a tattoo all up his arm will walk by, and my dad will say, "Get a load of this guy."

Anyway, Robert Goulet was singing Dream the Impossible Dream before yesterday's Red Sox game. It was the weirdest thing. I was like, "Get a load of this guy!" But I was by myself so no one heard me. I can't find a YouTube clip of it, so maybe it never happened. It was only a dream. An impossible one, perhaps.

Oh wait! Proof is here!

And here is a picture. This actually isn't a picture of him singing, though. He was participating in a game called Peanut or Medicine Ball. Someone stood in front of him and would either try to throw a peanut in his mouth or make him catch a 35 pound medicine ball. He didn't know which one was coming, but he was ready for both.

a fuckin jelly donut

2007-04-10T10:56:00.000-04:00

I was in Philadelphia phor work a phew weeks ago. I was with a bunch of pholks (ok, last one) walking onto the subway. We walked down the stairs and there was a homeless guy standing across the platform (well, I assume he was homeless... if he wasn't, I doubt he pays his rent on time). Anyway, as soon as we all got to the bottom of the stairs, this guy yells out to us, "You want a fucking jelly donut?!" He then tosses a jelly donut in our general direction. At least, I assume it was a jelly donut. It was in a wrapper and didn't make it to the platform and fell on the tracks, but I don't see any motivation for him to lie about the contents of the donut.

I guess saying, "You want a fucking chocolate frosted donut with jimmies?!" doesn't have the same ring to it. They call sprinkles "jimmies" in Philly.

Anyway, it was an awesome thing to hear, because I was with about ten people I work with, so now whenever we get donuts at work, I can go up to one of them with a jelly donut and say all nonchalant, "You want a fucking jelly donut?"

I miss crazy shit like that. There are plenty of homeless people in Cleveland, but none of them are crazy and fun. There is one guy that kind of looks like that crazy homeless guy you always see in Union Square. The one who kind of looks like he should be in Funkadelic. He always has a dress on or something and always seems to be going somewhere, but you only see him in Union Square. Anyway, there is a poorer man's version of that guy here. But he isn't as cool.

The homeless people here are just panhandlers. Nothing else to offer. No street performers, no funny signs, no oral surgery on the N train. All they want here is your money. A few weeks ago some guy tried to pull the, "Excuse me sir, I lost my wallet and I just need a dollar fifty for the bus." I cut him off and said, "No you didn't." Seriously, who falls for that anymore? Take this dollar fifty for the bus and that amateur shit back to Homeless School (I'm not sure what stop that is).

I never would have thought that one of the top things I'd miss about New York would be crazy homeless people. Shit just doesn't happen out here in Cleve. My commute to work in New York was eventful almost every day. Here, not so much. Granted, it's a fifteen minute walk, but it'd be nice if something happened. I'm sure I'll get mugged tonight. Perhaps once it stops snowing, people will start going outside to throw jelly donuts at each other or pull their teeth out. You know, because they got cavities from the fucking jelly donuts.

test tube, baby!

2007-04-05T11:14:00.000-04:00

I always thought people with laser pointers were assholes. I got one at work the other day, and now I realize how much fun they are and I am OK with being an asshole. I've been pointing it quite a bit at my lady's rear end, and she has said to me quite a bit, "How old are you?" Then I just giggle and point it at a boob. Usually my own.

Shit, I've had a lot to blog about recently, but I can't remember any of it. All I got is the laser pointer thing.

Hmmm. Well, I went to New Orleans a few weeks ago for the wedding of my friends Doug and Amanda. You might remember Doug from such blogs as My Roommate Doug is an Asshole and Doug Bought a Christmas Tree! Here is Doug the night before the wedding dancing with the worst stripper in the world!

Just kidding. She was actually very good.

Oh, we were there on St. Patrick's Day weekend, which explains why there is a lot of green in these photos. There were random parades that would just come down the street. There didn't seem to be a pattern or any order. This was the best float I saw. It's called the Crawl Pub and it's a bar on wheels. Whether or not you could go up there to get a beer, I don't know.

This is a gigantic pile of horse shit wearing beads. It must have shown its boobs.

This is a random dude who stepped in that gigantic pile of horse shit. This is his reaction to stepping in the poop. I must have seen it coming and had my camera at the ready. I guess the nice thing to do would have been to warn him, but this is more fun. I also love the fact that beer truly does make things all better. Look at how happy he is to have just stepped in horse shit.

And here are two of my most favorite pictures of all time.

The first one is of good old Alberto. He got a test tube shot and the girl insisted she be responsible for getting the shot into Alberto's mouth. Alberto reluctantly agreed. And here is what happened:

I mean, it's just an awesome photo. The closed eyes just make me giggle every time. Kind of like he's making out with the test tube. He is just taking it so seriously.

This next photo is the best photo of Tania ever. I mean, ever. So she collected some beads throughout the night and then on our walk back to the hotel, she realized they made a fun noise (she was drunk). So she kept shaking the beads. I got her here in the middle of what was probably the biggest shake ever.

Look at how much fun she is having! And look at her hair! She so crazy!

If she ever breaks up with me, this will be the photo that I would see and cry over. Not all the nice pictures I have of the two of us on vacations. It will be the one where she was shaking her beads because they made a fun sound while she was drunk.

Maybe you need to see a larger view to really appreciate it.

The wedding itself was a beautiful wedding and a lot of fun. It was the first time I had been in New Orleans since 9/11, which was kind of weird. My only association to the city was being away from New York during a terrorist attack and then watching New Orleans drown and turn into a third world country. So it's nice to have something positive to tie to it.

Hey drunk people, go to New Orleans and drink. It's still a great little city, despite the murder and all (which doesn't happen in the French Quarter). Random locals at a bar there found out we were visiting for a wedding, and they thanked us for coming and how much it meant to them. And then Alberto gave a blow job to a test tube.

Anyway, it's a fun town for a three day weekend.

And of course, I will end the post with a picture of the lovely bride. My apologies, Amanda, for the poop and Alberto photos.

librarians are hiding something

2007-03-27T10:17:00.000-04:00

The other day I woke up from a dream. I don't remember what the dream was about, but I woke up thinking how unfair it is that two of the Beatles are dead, but all four Golden Girls are still kicking. Not that I wish death upon Bea Arthur, but you know.

Hey, look at that. It's my old template! I sort of owe it all to Dave Lozo. Thanks, Dave.

One of the things I thought I was going to miss most about living in and around New York was the celebrity sightings. I mean, besides Drew Carey, what celebrities would be in Cleveland? Surely, it could be no match for Madonna, Tom Brokaw, John Kerry and the chick from Amelie.

Boy was I wrong!

Since I have been to Cleveland, I have been in the same room as the following celebrities:

The tight ends coach for the Cleveland Browns
A white basketball player
The lady who played Fay on Wings

I can smell your jealousy!

So yeah, Tania and I were out to dinner a couple of months ago and we were sitting next to the tight ends coach of the Cleveland Browns. Yes, THE tight ends coach. I am not often starstruck, but I could barely eat my dinner. I just kept staring.

Then a month or so later, we were at a bar (me and Tania... not me and the tight ends coach) and a really tall white guy walked in. I was pretty sure he was a basketball player, but I couldn't be sure. But then a really tall black guy walked in and hugged him. Confirmed! So I guess that makes two basketball players. One black, one white. Cleveland is a melting pot.

And then just the other day, the best celebrity sighting ever: Fay from Wings. Her full name on the show was apparently Fay Evelyn Schlob Dumbly DeVay Cochran. Saw her having breakfast at the very same restaurant I was at. She walked by me a few times and all I could do was say, "Wings. Wings!" She didn't hear me. Or maybe she did, but I am sure she gets that all the time.

So take that, New York!

Oh, a couple of weeks ago, Tiki Barber was at a bar across the street from where I live. I was sleeping, though. But big deal. Tiki Barber? Give me Fay Evelyn Schlob Dumbly DeVay Cochran any day of the week.

i wnt 2 chk u 4 tks

2007-03-15T10:50:00.000-04:00

Today at work, someone responded to an email with LMK in the middle of a sentence. I figured out pretty quickly that this meant "let me know". I recognized it quick because I used to be good at Bumper Stumpers (not Bumper Snickers, Lozo), and because txt spk has bcm so n my fckng fce.

I hate it. I hate lol and I hate lmao and I hate one that is something like rmlfao, because I have no idea what it means (attention dorks: I am pretty sure that the last one I typed isn't correct... I know it and am comfortable with it and dnt cr wht it mnz).

What bothers me most about it is that people seem to just make these up and hope they catch on. LMK? Never heard it before today. It might be popular in chat rooms, but I really don't want it at work. I don't want to have to figure out what made up acronyms mean. Has OOO caught on yet for Out of Office, because it should. The first person who sends me and out of office reply that says "Blah Blah is OOO," I am going to sign up their email address to every possible spam sender I can find.

I just don't like this becoming part of every day life. It's becoming too prevalent. I wouldn't be surprised if I got a text message after the death of a family member that read, srry abt yr lss :(.

I was in a cab the other day to the airport and the driver was listening to country music (biggest difference between Ohio cab drivers and NYC cab drivers is that the Ohio cab drivers listen to country music about loving the United States and NYC cab drivers listen to music that talks about blowing up the United States... I think... I mean, I can't understand what they are saying, but I assume they listen to songs about terrorism). It was early in the morning and I wasn't paying attention because it was some awful music, but then I heard a lyric that I am pretty sure said, "I want to check you for ticks."

I heard it a few more times and I am almost positive that's what this guy said. I was at a work conference in Tucson and I asked a lot of people if they knew this song, but no one could confirm.

What an odd lyric. I think they were going camping or something, so it would make sense, but would anyone really want to check someone else for ticks? And would that person who is getting checked be that into it? Like, let's say you are driving to the campground with your new boyfriend, which of the following things would you prefer to hear?

-- I brought chocolate so we can make s'mores.
-- You know when I said we'd be camping in a tent? Just kidding. We are staying at a five star hotel.
-- You know what I look forward to the most on this trip? I want to check you for ticks.

Lyme Disease is not a laughing matter (except in my case where I bought my sister personalized pencils that said "Lyme Disease idiot" on them), so maybe this is a public service message from your friends in country music. You know, right after they put a boot up your ass because it's the American way.

I would love for a rapper to write a song about tick checks.

I'ma take you to my tent/
and getcha ass bent (over)/
we'll get freaky on my aerobed/
where you can gimme head/
you'll be suckin' on my dick/
while I check yo ass fo ticks.

What? Rappers can rap about aerobeds.

cleveland should totally get one of those suns

2007-03-07T10:57:00.000-05:00

I haven't seen the sun in what seems like years. I've only lived in Cleveland for a few months, and I'd say there has been about four minutes of sunshine.

This morning there were snowflakes the size of fucking mice. Yes, it was the size of two mice having sex.

I have been thinking of something else to write for two hours since I started this post. I have nothing. Good day (I think it's day) to you.

Here is what I would look like, if I was fat and had a tiny nose.

toore dot brogspot dot com

2007-02-22T12:31:00.000-05:00

I have this supermarket/deli in my building. It's pretty awesome and convenient. One of the items they have for sale every day is this little sushi-to-go section. I always assumed this was some sort of outsourcing job, being that everything is outsourced to the Asians these days.

I never got the sushi, because whenever I saw it, there was usually one thing left and it looked like it had been sitting for a while.

Well, today I happened to walk by when this guy was actually making it. Not outsourced at all! Woo! USA! Wait, I thought. USA? Yeah, the dude making the sushi wasn't Japanese. He wasn't even Chinese. At least pander to me and give me an Asian, ya know? I'll even settle for some racist Mickey Rooney bullshit.

This guy looked like he'd be a bartender at a very local bar. I felt like I should get Americanized sushi. Like, "I'll have a hamburger roll, the breakfast patty sausage roll, and um, a Twix sashimi."

Oh well. Turns out it was pretty good. This guy must have adopted a Korean or something.

So I have received many complaints about the look of my blog. And by many, I mean two. Well, sorry sister number 2 and Sarah. My blog is staying this way until I have the urge to change it. I had that other format for almost four years, so you know, heads up.

Oh, so even though you are still allowed to vote on things to put up Tim Hardaway's ass, I think my winner was from Kevin, who said, "Mentos & Coke! His ass will explode like Old Faithful!"

Well played. I think it was the Old Faithful line and the genuine glee you seemed to get from suggesting it. Almost as if you don't want to do it to be mean, you just think it would be cool to see. I have a feeling you don't even know who Tim Hardaway is. You just want to see someone's ass go all Mentos and Diet Coke.

Crazy Asians. Always wanting to see soda coming out of the black man's anus.

my first post with a title? (testing)

2007-02-20T11:01:00.000-05:00

As you can see, my blog is all different. It's blue instead of red. Links and shit are on the right. All the people I used to link to are gone.

This was not done on purpose. I was fucking around the other night and thought it might be fun to see my blog look kind of different. See, Blogger told me that I would have easy access to my old template if I wanted to revert back. Well, I switched things up, wasn't crazy about it and then hit the revert button, whatever it was called. And nothing happened. It would not revert.

"Revert!" I yelled. "Revert!"

Reverting was not an option. So here we are. All blue. I think the problem with reverting to my old template was just that -- it's old. That was the first and only template I've ever had, starting way back in 2003 when I created a blog because Anise told me to. I had no idea what I was doing, hence the title "Blogging Like I've Never Blogged Before." It was the first thing that I thought of and I had literally never blogged before, so it was the truth.

Anyway, I will get those links back up eventually. Maybe add some new ones. Although, I will probably forget some people I had up there. I am lazy when it comes to linking.

So I am "reading" the swimsuit issue on the crapper and I realize on the cover it says "Beyonce As You've Never Seen Her." She is in some bathing suits. Whoa! Ain't never seen a scantily clad Beyonce before!

Photos of the following would have made that claim more accurate:

Beyonce deep sea fishing.
Beyonce testifying at the Iran Contra hearings.
Beyonce after she fell down a well.
Beyonce punching homeless children.
(I almost typed holeless instead of homeless, which brings me to my next one)
Beyonce punching children who have no holes.

And they still do the body paint thing. Why???!?! I feel like this is some weird fetish that a photographer or an editor at SI must have. I mean, if you really wanted me to, I could think of ways to make Daniella Sarahyba be not hot, but putting Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons on her boobs would be so far down on my list.

You know what's crazy to think about? Every newspaper in the country right now probably has a Britney Spears obituary ready. And it was updated right quick this past weekend.

Oh well. If you have any template suggestions, let me know.

Hey, the title thing works! That might be fun. And labels. I can label things now, whatever that entails.

2007-02-17T00:27:00.000-05:00

In honor of Presidents' Day, I had the craziest fucking dream the other night. OK, the setup kind of sucks and is not important, but the payoff is quite good.

Here's the dream. So I am watching a movie and I think I am the star of it, but I'm not really sure. But for the sake of the blog, we'll say it's me. For whatever reason, I am in a creek and I am talking to some people. We are up to our waists in the water. I have no idea what the plot of this movie is.

Anyway, at one point I am showing all of these people this new thing I invented or something. I hold it up and I start to tell them that it's called Ford's something and I named it after the theater where Abe Lincoln was shot. All of the sudden, out of the water comes the ghost of Abe Lincoln. He looks kind of old and beat up, but he's still wearing the stove pipe hat, so you know it's Honest Abe. He apparently takes offense to me naming something after the site of his death and he says to me, "Hey, that's fucked up!"

Before he is even all the way out of the water, I pull out a gun from nowhere and yell out "Fuck you, Lincoln!" And I shoot the shit out of him. I killed the ghost of Abraham Lincoln.

OK, maybe it's not so great to read on the blog. But I am telling you, this shit was funny. It was really the timing. I mean, I shot him so fast without even thinking about it. And then went back to my business like nothing really happened. I guess I really hate Abe Lincoln.

Today I received the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. So you know how whenever you get a big magazine and you just randomly open to a page, it's always going to be the page that has the biggest ad? You know, like they have a little booklet or some free sample of something. Well, I open it up and there are some 3-D glasses, courtesy of GMC.

I thought to myself, "What the fuck?" They actually have swimsuit photos that are in 3-D. I thought that this was the stupidest thing they had ever done. I mean, 3-D pictures? How dumb?

So two seconds later I am sitting there with my 3-D glasses on and they actually kind of worked! Those starfish totally look like they are coming at me!

Yeah, no boobs or anything shoot at you, but surfboards and GMC truck doors kind of come off the page a little bit. Still kind of stupid, but I had to try. Then I thought that there would probably be lots of boys and men using the swimsuit issue as a masturbation helper, and imagined they would probably be doing so while wearing 3-D glasses. That made me laugh. Not as funny as shooting Abe Lincoln's ghost for no reason in a creek, but still funny.

Anyway, in case you were wondering what the stupidest thing is that they've ever done, look right here. Nice jams, dork.

Oh, so far there have been some really good suggestions on what to stick up Tim Hardaway's ass. I think my favorite so far was the fella named Scott who said, "My coworker George. Just because." Man, George must be a dick.

You should go there and suggest something! It's not too late to enter the contest! I know I never mentioned a contest before, but let's just say it's a contest. The winner will receive mention on the blog and will get an email from someone saying, "YOU AER A WINNER X4@LXXX"

If you do get that email, make sure you open it and click on whatever links are there!

2007-02-15T15:40:00.000-05:00

I figured I should try to get in on the ground floor with this whole Tim Hardaway controversy. OK, maybe it's not the ground floor anymore. I'm in on the mezzanine.

Anyway, I've started a new blog where you can comment on things that would be good to put up his ass.

2007-02-13T11:55:00.000-05:00

I have these new Hanes boxer briefs, which annoy me for two reasons.

1) Every time I wear them, I get that jingle stuck in my head that goes, "Look who we've got our Hanes on now." And it makes me think of that dumbass commercial with Michael Jordan and Kevin Bacon. Jordan, by the way, is totally goaltending. Anyway, the commercial really annoys me because of the jingle and what the hell are Michael Jordan and Kevin Bacon doing hanging out? And is Jordan that much of a dick with all his free time, he just swats things out of the air?

2) There is no pee hole. How do you make boxers for men without a pee hole? I thought maybe they were boxers for women or something, so I double checked, but they are designed for men. Men without penises, apparently. Maybe it's just some new campaign to make men more sensitive.

Hanes Sitters: For the man who likes to pee sitting down.

My brother-in-law recently had a co-worker die in the office. Heart attack or something. They were on a conference call and he heard him drop in the next cubicle.

If you work with me and I ever die on a conference call, please drag my body outside and shoot me. Throw me in front of a bus. I don't care. Just kill me again, but outside of the office. The last thing I want to hear in my life is something like, "Well, it's in the pipeline, and we plan on rolling it out..." And my last words would probably be, "This is Mike Toole. I am here."

That would blow. I'd rather them be something like, "The sun does seem awful low today. And fast." So yes. I would prefer to get hit by the sun, than die on a conference call.

You know what commercial is way worse but way more entertaining than the Hanes commercial? This one for Vermont Teddy Bear. Holy crap, just watch it. They sort of equate the bear to a penis. The girl gets it and loves it and one of her co-workers says, "It's so much bigger than I thought." Then one of them says, "I could just kiss it and kiss it." So all the dudes in the office are now looking over and are like, "Hey, what's all this whoring going on?"

So then those dudes get online to order their teddy bear because they like boners too, and they need to send a bear to their lady so their lady will get all hot and horny over the thought of a stuffed bear. One guy even realizes one of the bears and he share a heart tattoo that says "love"! So he thinks to himself, Perfect! It's like me, but in bear form! Then he says, "The bear and I are so alike, I hope she blows me and not the bear!"

OK, that's a lie, but while watching this on youtube, I noticed one more thing to make this commercial even more sex driven then it already is. Check out how much the bear costs...

69, bro! The price of love!

Of course at the end of the commercial, the girl says all sexily, "I can't wait to give him my surprise."

Somebody's getting laid, dude.

Actually, I bet most guys who are lame enough to get a Vermont Teddy Bear for their gal on Valentine's Day probably are getting laid. I would guess that it's going to be pity sex, because the girl is going to dump him after she gets her shitty bear, so she figures she'll give the pathetic turd one more romp before she breaks his heart and his heart tattoo.

I kind of want to call the bear expert and see what she can offer. "I want something that will remind my girlfriend of me, but you know, it's a bear. Like every once in a while, I take a giant stinky shit. Bears take giant stinky shits, right? Do you have a Giant Stinky Shit Bear? OK, I'll take two."

2007-02-06T10:48:00.000-05:00

I would like to thank this crazy astronaut lady for ruining my theory that all astronauts are All-Americans. I once posted something about that after the Columbia blowed up.

So when she perishes in a tragedy, Katie Couric can be like, "You might remember Nowak as that crazy bitch who drove to Florida while shitting herself so she could threaten some other lady with a BB gun and a rubber mallet. She was 52."

I didn't know that astronauts wore diapers. Maybe that's why so many little kids want to be astronauts. They've already got that part down. You never think of that, though, when you see astronauts walking to the shuttle, they are wearing diapers that will soon be filled with poop.

What a glorious feeling that must be. To be floating in space and to not have to worry about how your next fart might actually be poop.

2007-02-05T11:43:00.000-05:00

I might post some more about the Super Bowl later on, but I might not. But here is a prediction: While Tony Dungy has already claimed the honor of first black head coach to win a Super Bowl, I predict that the next black head coach to win the Super Bowl will be known as the blackest head coach to win the Super Bowl. People will ask him, "What was it like to hoist the Lombardi Trophy knowing that you were blacker than Tony Dungy?" Hopefully, that really black coach will say, "Nigga, please!"

2007-02-02T12:09:00.000-05:00

I have heard that some creative type people have had songs come to them in dreams or ideas for films. I had a dream last night for a new video game which will probably be titled, "Bitch Betta Not Be Tracking Snow Up In My Motherfuckin' Crib."

So I had this video game dream where this gangsta type guy was walking around his phat crib, and some ho came in with snow on her shoes. He took one look at her feet, with dirty, muddy snow, and he started yelling at her and then he pistol whipped her.

I suppose this is because here in Cleveland, there is a lot of snow and a lot of black people. So the dream is a natural combination. How it would turn into a successful video game, I am not so sure just yet.

2007-01-20T14:46:00.000-05:00

My mom and I are Netflix friends. She has only rated probably ten movies, but when I view my friends page, the little trivia quiz is frequently a quiz about my mom and Roger Ebert and it always involves the same movies. And it goes like this:

Critical Disagreement!
Your mom disagreed with Chicago Sun Times critic Roger Ebert on only one of these movies and agreed on the others. Which of these movies did your mom dislike and Ebert like?

Forrest Gump
Steel Magnolias
There's Something About Mary
When Harry Met Sally

Most of you readers don't know my mom, but I think you can probably guess where she and Ebert disagree. If there were three movies that most moms would be happy to see, they would be Forrest Gump, Steel Magnolias and When Harry Met Sally. So my mom disagreed with Roger Ebert about There's Something About Mary. If it was Mom and Ebert instead of Siskel and Ebert, this would have been their conversation:

Ebert: What a blessed relief is laughter.
Mom: Oh, it was so stupid. Just dumb and gross.
Ebert: I love it when a movie takes control, sweeps away my doubts and objections, and compels me to laugh. I'm having a physical reaction, not an intellectual one. There's such freedom in laughing so loudly. I feel cleansed.
Mom: Oh, you're an idiot.

Those lines are taken directly from Ebert's review. What a homo. And my mom's lines are taken directly from what I believe she would say to Ebert.

Hey, because I have been bad at blogging and have had not much to blog about, I am going to answer some of those three questions people asked a really long time ago.

These are from Tommy.

1.) When you move to Cleveland, do you get one of the rubber Dog Masks a'la
the Browns' DawgPound for free, or do you have to buy it yourself?

Well, I have been here for nearly two months and I am yet to receive my Dawg Pound mask, so I guess I'd best buy one. I do live really close to the stadium, though, so maybe I can score one next season. The parking lot next to my building turns into a tailgate party on Browns Sundays, so maybe I will just wait until the end of the partying, then try to find a passed out Dawg and take their mask.

2.) At what point should one see a doctor about an ingrown toenail?

I don't know. I don't think I've ever had one that made me think I might need to see a doctor. Here you go... I found this link on WebMD.

I know you asked me this question in November, so I hope this wasn't a pressing medical issue, and if it was, I hope you sought out help other than mine.

3.) Would you be more interested or less interested in politics if matters
of election were settle in some manner other than voting? Perhaps a
pie-eating contest? Thumb-Wrestling? Raiders of the Lost Ark style
drinking contest?

More interested, of course. Last night I was awake at 4 or 5 in the morning, and ESPN2 had on the Arm Wrestling Championships. That would be pretty awesome, although George W. would probably win a lot. He seems pretty buff. But drinking contests? He'd get killed. Ted Kennedy would be our overlord by now.

Speaking of the presidency, isn't it kind of ridiculous that the flags are supposed to stay at half-staff for a month when a former president dies? A month? Look at this headline -- Period of national mourning for President Ford ends. Really? I was over it quite a while ago. I think Betty is probably over it by now. It's crappy because this means that some time in the future, the flags will have to be lowered for George W. Haven't we suffered enough? Some month in the future, we are going to have to look at half-staff flags to remind us of the worst president ever. (OK, maybe not ever. Granted, I don't know much about Franklin Pierce, other than that he apparently was known for asking, "Has anyone seen my wallet?" during his portrait.)

If this law was around in 1841, that means after William Henry Harrison died, the flag was at half-staff for thirty days, which was just as long as his entire presidency.

But we didn't start doing this until 1954, thank you very much Dwight D. Eisenhower. Egotistical prick.

2007-01-14T02:58:00.000-05:00

Hey, I have never seen a James Bond movie. Did you know that? Blame my parents, I guess. I do believe that the first one I had the chance of seeing was A View To A Kill, which I have heard is the worst Bond movie ever. I think my mom rented it or something way back when, and I started watching it. It starts off with this cool ski chase scene or something, which I watched about eight times in a row. It was awesome. But then Grace Jones and Christopher Walken started making out, which creeped me out, and that was that. The end of my Bond movie watching.

Anyway, I kind of want to see the new Bond, because I liked Daniel Craig in L4yer Cake.

So what's up? I have a sweet buzz on. The best thing I said tonight was, "Yeah, we paid a guy to rape him." Trust me, it was funny in its context. But you had to be there. You should have been there. Where were you?

Here are some guys that my girlfriend has a crush on:

Peyton Manning
Jack Bauer (not Kiefer Sutherland... just Jack Bauer)
Brett Favre
Sheriff Bullock from Deadwood
Ed Hochuli

There are more, but I forget. I can't keep track. So it's great that my girlfriend likes football, because on Sundays during football season, I know we can just chill and watch football and I won't get shit for it. However, I get jealous that she has crushes on tons of dudes. I always have to be like, "Wait, you don't have a crush on Tony Siragusa, right?" (She doesn't.)

And actually, I am OK with all of those crushes except for Peyton Manning. He's an ugly guy who always has some red shit around his lips during interviews. He looks like he makes out with a guy that has a 5:00 shadow before his interviews.

The best crush, by far, is Ed Hochuli. Any guy who watches football knows that Ed is the best referee in the history of professional sports. And he's got some serious guns.

Tonight when I was walking home, I walked past this group of girls and one of them said quite loudly, "I fucked a Middle Eastern man." I can't tell if she was ashamed or if she was boasting about her open-mindedness.

I work with this guy Geoff who I didn't realize was funny until this weekend. I have a bias against guys named Jeff who spell their name Geoff. It's queer. He has friends that make gross sounds. But anyway, here was a conversation between him and this girl named Melanie. They were talking about an executive in our company.

Melanie: He makes an insane amount of money
Geoff: How insane?
Melanie: I mean, insane. Like, six figures.
Someone else: Well, low six figures or high six figures?
Melanie: I don't know, but insane.
Geoff: Do they pay him in oranges? Because that would be insane.

That made me laugh for a while.

So anyway.

2007-01-09T23:21:00.000-05:00

After Jeremy Shockey's helmet losing play and the same thing happening to a Florida defender last night, I would like to petition the NFL to do away with helmets. They aren't necessary and make the game more dangerous. All those dangerous helmet to helmet hits? They will be gone under my NFL.

Or wait. Maybe this is a better idea. Because it is exciting and nerve wracking when a player loses a helmet, the new rule should be that three players from each team must always be helmetless.

For some reason, I woke up with a most awful song in my head this morning. It was such a bad song that I actually tried to get "This is our country" song to get stuck, because that usually gets very stuck, thank you very much NFL football. The song I had in my head this morning is a song I have probably not heard since it was done at a fifth grade lip synch. It is by this dumb ass band called The Jets and it's called "Crush On You".

I don't know if it was in a dream or what. The only reason I know who sings that song is this:

In fifth grade, my elementary school was burying a time capsule. We were told to put crap in there and write some shit. I remember this girl Jessica Henderson had to write who was popular in music that year (1985). One of the bands she wrote was The Jets. I was all, "Who the fuck are The Jets? That's a football team, dumb girl." With the exception of the word "fuck" and the second sentence, that quote is verbatim. Anyway, she told me that they were the coolest shit ever and were a great band. And that is why I know who The Jets are.

Oh, so I am telling this to Tania this morning and she tells me she has never heard of them. The first thing I did when I got to work was check to see if there was some asshole who was lame enough to create a Wikipedia entry on the worst pop group in the history of shit, and sure enough, that asshole exists. And in case you were wondering what they looked like, here is a photo. I am not positive, but I think that sweater on the upper right died of AIDS in 1987.

I leave you with some Norm MacDonald.

2006-12-31T12:39:00.000-05:00

A lot of my friends right now either have a baby or two or a baby on the way. That seems very grown up to me. Here is where I am in my life:

Yesterday, Tania and I were at a restaurant, the kind where you place your order, then get a number, then they yell out your number and you go to pick up your food. We got our food, I forget our number, but as we sat there, they kept calling out numbers.

61!

We ate.

62!

More eating.

63! 64! 65! 66!

We were just about done with our food and I said to Tania, "We have to wait until they yell out 69. I want to giggle."

So Tania was OK with it and she kind of laughed, but I could also see a thought run through her head, which was probably something along the lines of, "I've made a huge mistake."

Anyway, they yelled out 68 and we waited. They didn't seem close to yelling out the number I wanted to hear, so I decided we should leave. I walked slower than normal to the door, and they still didn't yell. Just as we walked out the door, I heard "69!" I gave a patented Bill fist pump and we went on our way.

Perhaps as we enter this new year, this 2007, I will grow up a bit and not giggle every time I hear 69. But I doubt it. I can't wait until I turn 69-years-old. That is going to be the funniest year ever.

2006-12-28T18:16:00.000-05:00

I was recently speaking with my friend Alisa about New Year's. Here was our conversation.

Alisa: What are you doing for New Year's?
Me: I don't know. No plans, really.
Alisa: We don't know either.
Me: Last year we just stayed in and made dinner and got kind of drunk. That was nice.
Alisa: That's always good. Eat some dinner, drink wine, watch some dick.
Me: Watch some what?
Alisa: Watch some dick.
Me: (Just staring at her like I've just learned something incredibly new and shocking about her.)
Alisa: You know, Dick's Rockin' Eve?
Mike: Ohhhh. I thought it would be weird that you and Rick would watch gay porn on New Year's.

So anyway, this year I am totally watching gay porn.

Hey, how have you been? I'm fine. Getting used to the Cleve. Every girl here is named some form of Katherine.

Oh, I forgot to post the best picture I had from vacation. You know how on a cruise the person who makes up your room will often make the towels look like some sort of animal like a dog or something? On our first night, we got what I believe to be a vagina.

There were some eyeball stickers somewhere on here, but I took those off. Because vaginas don't have eyes. Tania says it was supposed to be a walrus or something. I don't buy that. Maybe a walrus vagina.

Someone at work today was talking about a press release being put out by this publishing company, which had published Gerald Ford's last book. It wasn't a new book. So he said, "They are just trying to ride the wave of his death." Now I want to start a band called The Gerald Ford Death Wave. I really need to learn how to play an instrument.

2006-12-25T23:23:00.000-05:00

My Christmas gift to you is one of the few funny things from Saturday Night Live in the last year or so. You can stop watching once Tenacious D comes on, because ironically, that is when it stops being funny. Will Forte, you are a funny fella.

2006-12-19T00:45:00.000-05:00

Hi! I am back from vacation. I was on a cruise. You could call it The Big Redneck Boat. It was a Carnival Cruise. The weather was terrible. The company was fantastic. I did have lots to blog about, but I am now forgetting everything I was going to write about. There were lots of Nascar fans.

Here are some photos.

Here is what Tania and I left getting out of the Cleve. So we were all, "We are totally going to come back with kick ass tans (Tania) and sunburns (me), so eff everyone!!!!"

Turns out that didn't happen. We had lots of clouds and rain. But that wasn't the worst thing ever. We went to Grand Cayman, and well, it rained. We were bummed, as Tania and Alisa demonstrate here on the boat over.

So we walked around for a bit, got soaked from the rain, then decided to hit a bar. We then decided to play Asshole and get drunk. It was 11:00 in the morning.

I was very drunk. Here is a picture of me saying "Drinks in pink cups are deceiving and make hairlines recede."

So I took a huge nap and got drunk again later.

The next day we had an awesome day with a fella named Ed. And what I have learned in my life is that you can't spell Edventure without Ed. But even better was our driver named Carlos. He was a guy that you want to have with you in Mexico. My friend Rob, pictured above playing cards, said at one point that he felt so safe with Carlos. His quote was, "I feel safe with Carlos. Like if anyone fucks with us, he will kill them. And then he'll toss me a beer from the cooler."

Carlos is on the left.

So anyway. The last night we had a 70's party, and my friend Rich provided the mustaches. It was awesome.

This is Rich taking the greatest picture of all time.

This is Rob and his wife. He is totally pissed off. I am not sure what the deal is with the guy to the left. He is either sweating a lot or was just on Family Double Dare.

This is Rick, aka Daredevil. He is fairly awesome.

This is JJ. He can kill you with his tongue and his fingers.

And this is Brian. He can't kill.

And here is my lovely lady, in what is possibly the most disturbing picture of all time. She is wearing my old man mask, which I love, but I am not sure I love it so much when worn by my girlfriend.

2006-12-06T00:49:00.000-05:00

I've had Cleveland Rocks stuck in my head for about a week now.

So yeah, I live in Ohio. It's different than most places I've lived, but you know, it's still America. Not totally different, but enough to go, Oh hey, that's different.

Lots of dudes with mustaches around here. And not ironic hipster mustaches. The guys here actually have real mustaches. There seem to be a lot more fat people here, but I might just be imagining that one. Like now when I see a fat person, I might think, Ohio is so fat! Whereas if I saw a fat person in New York, I'd just be like, "Outta the way fatty! Back to Ohio with you!"

So what else? I love my new apartment and entire apartment building. So far no one has been murdered outside. So that's nice. We have a gym in our building, which I totally intend to use. Tania is there right now. I am here eating Taco flavored Doritos and blogging. I feel like every Dorito since Cool Ranch has been basically the same as Cool Ranch, but they just change one ingredient. Like you could play the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon game with Doritos. But it's the Six Degrees of Cool Ranch. Holy crap, their web site is annoying.

Sheesh. How hip can you make a snack chip? Apparently this fucking hip. You can rock your mouth out and do a stupid dance in your UGGs. This picture could have easily been stolen from www.BadHeismanPoses.com. That should be a real site.

Oh, this site is actually kind of fun. If you go to the Spicy Nacho page, this totally radical chick throws a spray paint can at you. I fart tagged that shit!

Oh, check this shit out. Ethan Hawke is apparently a Black Pepper Jack kind of guy.

Check out Cool Ranch lady. She is apparently riding an electric bull head that has sticks of margarine in place of its horns.

Well, that's enough fun for one night. I'll blog a little more when I am settled or something. Although I am going on vacation next week, so you might have to sit tight. No, tighter. Come on, tighter! No wait. Too tight.

Love Mike.

2006-11-27T18:57:00.000-05:00

I have a theory that Eli Manning was a Make-A-Wish kid and his wish was to play quarterback for a day at the University of Mississippi. Somehow, paper work got mixed up and he has now gotten this far. Somewhere there is an NFL caliber quarterback sitting in a children's hospital who has been saying this for the last seven years, "I keep telling you guys, I am not sick or retarded!"

I was just in the city for what will probably be my last visit as a resident of the northeast (for the time being). Unfortunately, it was to make a return visit to the dentist. As I was making my way through Herald Square, there were some people giving out free tickets to the Stephen A. Smith show. I didn't even know he had a live audience, but that's only because I can't stand to listen to the guy for more than two seconds.

So I keep walking, thinking to myself, You would have to pay me to go see his show. I was also thinking that given the choice, I would rather go to the dentist.

Then I started doing my Stephen A. impression, which is pretty awesome. It is better in person, but here is how it goes. Just imagine Stephen A. yelling the next sentence:

Froot Loops taste betta than Cheerios!!! I'ma tell ya right now, and ya heard it here first. (quietly) Froot Loops. Taste betta. Than Cheerios.

So I am doing this impression in my head, and it's good. Just as I am really yelling it, who walks right by me? Stephen A. Smith. I was so close to yelling "FROOT LOOPS TASTE BETTA THAN CHEERIOS!!!" It is times like that where I wish I always had four beers in me, because I would have done it.

Oh well. So it looks like my last celebrity spotting in NYC is Stephen A. Smith. That is kind of lame.

2006-11-21T17:06:00.000-05:00

I had to go to the dentist today, so I had my usual pre-dentist visit breakfast. Peanut butter and Oreos on a poppy seed bagel with a glass of red wine. Then when I get to the dentist and open up my mouth, I look at him and say, "Work for it."

I am trying to sleep right now and in the last hour or so I have heard someone hammering, a baby crying and a dog barking. People don't respect the daysleeper.

"I'm not a racist. That's what's so insane about this."

I don't know much about much, but I would venture to say that the guy on stage there is a racist and he is insane.

2006-11-20T19:36:00.000-05:00

The going away bash was basheriffic. I was drunk. My parents hung out until about one. My brother in law is dead to me.

Here are some photos.

There was a kitty litter cake, courtesy of Meg and Meg.

And here is my favorite photo from the evening. Stat Boy arm wrestling my dad.

I suppose those are the only photos I will show. The rest you can see on Flickr, and it's pretty much just the usual drunk people photos. From what I can recall, it was a great time and lots of awesome people showed up and my mom can hold her liquor better than I can.

2006-11-16T17:26:00.000-05:00

So last Friday I am watching Spirited Away on a Friday morning. It is a cartoon about a girl and her parents who find what seems to be an abandoned amusement park. Then her parents turn into pigs and then she starts hanging out in a bath house and she falls in love with a dragon/boy. And I am pretty sure she is on acid, but they never actually show her dropping said acid.

Anyway, with about half an hour left in the movie, I hear a really loud noise outside. Hm, I think to myself, that was an awfully loud and different sounding car backfire than normal. Oh well. Let's just focus on this 8-year-old girl tripping her balls off.

About 15 - 20 minutes later, I hear sirens approaching my apartment, and they usually just speed by. But these sirens stopped seemingly right below my apartment. I then realize the noise I heard was a gunshot. Hot damn.

So I put some shoes on and run downstairs and sure enough, the street is all taped off and right around the corner are paramedics running over to a man face down in the street. Then I see them pumping on his chest trying to save the dude. Then they put him in the ambulance, and where you would usually expect to see an ambulance peel out and fly to a hospital, they just sat there. Dude was dead.

So yeah, nice neighborhood I live in. People get murdered in broad daylight. If it's dark out, I am totally cool with murder just around the corner.

Anyway, the guy turned himself in, so that's that. Well, I am glad I am moving, I suppose. I could just as easily get shot in Cleveland, I guess, but what the heck.

I kind of didn't like the end of the movie, but I can't tell if that's because it was a bad ending or it got ruined by a murder.

Oh, you know what was funny about this whole thing? As if it's not already hilarious enough. The first responder to the scene was the fire department. I mean, it's great you guys are here, makes me feel safe if there is ever a fire, but I don't think watering that guy is going to help. But hey, I'm not a doctor, so what do I know? Water the shit out of him and see if maybe the Dalmation knows CPR.

I was surprised at how long they were hanging out, because I thought once the paramedics got there and confirmed that he wasn't going to explode, maybe the firemen would leave. I went back inside, finished the movie, then about an hour later went on my back porch and could see a firefighter hosing down the blood. Ah, so that's why they are there.

They are putting up all these luxury condos around my apartment, which is funny, because the projects are right across the street. It's like some sort of insane sociology experiment. I have a feeling there are going to be a lot of luxury apartments being unsold or sold for cheap fairly soon.

"You are going to love it here. High ceilings, all new appliances, sure there is the occasional drug related murder, but as long as you don't do drugs or murder anyone, you should be fine."

Where do I sign?!

Tania and I are having a going away party this weekend, so if you read this and I didn't invite you, lemme know. Even if I don't know you, show up. You can be like, "Hey, I Googled 'my feet smell like popcorn' and I found your blog and now I am at your party!"

See you Saturday, stinky feet.

2006-11-15T11:16:00.000-05:00

Lozo asked me three questions, then thought his questions sucked and asked me three more. I will answer three of the six.

1. Would you take a bullet for Bob Barker?

My initial answer is yes, of course. But then I realize that he is old and will probably die soon, so I shouldn't take his bullet, right? I guess it would depend on the situation, you know? It would be a spur of the moment thing. So Dave, please somehow get me and Bob Barker in the same room together, then without warning me, shoot him. Then we'll see if I take a bullet for Bob Barker.

2. On your first day on your new job in Cleveland, would you please consider wearing this shirt and have pictures taken of it?

http://www.jiggy.com/product.html?t_q=TD0004T

I am not answering.

3. Please describe what you consider to be the perfect date. Wait, that's not a question. What do you consider to be the perfect date? (I'm just looking for answer that's more than yes or no)

This is the gayest question I could imagine, especially coming from Dave. In fact, this question shocked me in how innocent and twelve-year-old-girl-esque it was. It really made me wonder what was happening to Lozo... but then he asked the next question.

4. where is the strangest place you've ever ejaculated? interpret place anyway you'd like.

That's more like it, Lozo! But I am not answering, you sicko.

5. if you had to pick one, how would you rather die -- be set on fire or drown?

I already kind of answered this question in a previous three questions.

For those too lazy to click on that link, but still want to know, here you are. (This question was asked a day after the tsunami and soon after that lady had her baby stolen from her womb.)

Can you think of a worse way to die than being sucked into a giant tidal wave? (perhaps burning, but that is up for debate)

I do think that burning would be worse. We can debate this tomorrow at work. Actually, there are many worse ways than drowning in a tidal wave, but when it happens to more than 20,000 people at once, well that's just fucked. But I can still imagine worse ways, like being strangled and then having your baby cut from your womb. Imagine that happened to 20,000 people at once. That would probably the worst tragedy of all time.

6. if you could win a championship in any major pro sport (nfl, nhl, mlb, nba) by making the winning play, which would it be?

This is a good question, because I think any guy who likes sports has asked himself this question many times.

Well, let's see. I don't really like basketball, so that's out. Plus, I am afraid of black people, and I imagine there would be a lot of black people hugging me, so that's out.

I love football and I love playing football, but for some reason, I don't think I would choose it. If I did though, I would want to return an interception for a touchdown in overtime.

I have to believe that every boy in America at some point has imagined hitting a home run in the bottom of the ninth of game 7 in the World Series. Every boy. I am convinced. It would be awesome. Or throwing a perfect game in game 7, hitting a home run for your team, and winning 1-0. That'd be pretty sweet. And then you die right on the mound right after the last pitch. That last part is just mine. It would be super dramatic. You'd be in all the papers.

Then there is hockey. It would have to be game 7 in overtime. And it would have to be a dramatic, Bobby Orr kind of goal. No lucky bounce or redirection kind of shit. And I'd have to be playing for the Rangers in MSG. Imagine doing that in Anaheim or Nashville? No one would notice.

So it's baseball vs. hockey. The one thing that will put hockey over any other sport every time is the Stanley Cup. Factor that in and it's always going to be hockey. So that's my answer. Hockey. It's a shame that no one watches hockey anymore and it will probably be obsolete in ten years. Oh well.

Oh, and when I get to have the Stanley Cup for the day, well, you'd probably get your answer to number 4.

And I guess, technically, I really only answered two questions. Hm. Well, let me tell you about what would not be my perfect date. I was once out on a date with a nice gal and we had been out a few times before. We had a lull in the conversation and she kind of sighed and said, "I wish your blog was here."

It looks much worse in writing than it actually was. But still, it made me jealous that my blog could probably get more action than me.

2006-11-13T10:26:00.000-05:00

Here are more questions from readers, along with my answers.

The first three are from srah dot net . You should visit her blog and play with the Pepto Bismol Dance Machine. You can make a black guy, a homely lady and a cowboy grab their butts because they have the scoots.

Oh, these would have been more timely if I answered them closer to Halloween.

1. If you could trade places with one fictional character, who would it be?

Hm. That's a good question. Not Jack Bauer, because the dude needs a nap. They should have an episode of 24 where he does take a nap and the entire hour is Jack's dream. It can be the craziest 24 ever. Also, if we traded places, he would be super bored with my life. Although my lady would be happy with the trade, I think Jack Bauer would find my job a little less intense. He'd keep yelling at people, "Who are you working for?!?!" And they'd be like, "Um, you."

Anyway, that wasn't the question. It'd probably be a George Clooney character. One of the cool ones. I'll go with Jack Foley from Out of Sight.

2. What is your favorite kind of Halloween candy?

Like the last question, I am going to answer it with the opposite of what you asked. My least favorite is candy corn. So nasty. That's the only real Halloween candy I can think of. Know what I mean? Like, you only see it around Halloween. Most of the other candy is all year round candy, right? I dunno. I like Twix.

3. What's the best Halloween costume you've ever worn?

Mrs. Roper. I was in college and it was totally last minute. I had some connections in the theater department (I was gay) and we went into the costume shop and tried to think of things. Finally, this funny gal named Karen says, "Mrs. Roper." It was brilliant. We found a muumuu, a reddish wig, she let me borrow a really long necklace, I threw on some sandals and that was it. I was Mrs. Roper.

Not everyone knew who I was at first glance. Some people were able to guess after a bit, but once everyone did find out, they were quite impressed. I actually made out with this chick that I had a crush on for the longest time, so that was exciting. But then the next day I realized I was wearing a wig and a muumuu, so that was kind of awkward. She turned out to be a big druggie, so that might have explained things.