Tastes Like Burning*

The End

2007-10-14T16:30:00.001-04:00

The End by Roadrunner Unitedhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XqRQmGoaB4
So, 565 posts later I've decided to bring this blog to an end. I'd like to thank the few people who read my less than brilliant rants over the three and a half years I've been doing this. It's been fun but as of late I just haven't been feeling it. Good bye all. Stay in touch ...

Fox In The Garden

2007-09-30T23:49:00.000-04:00

Maybe the Knicks will have a chance now that they have some Marist brains on the team: Knicks Acquire Draft Rights To Jared Jordan From Clippers, Work On Dan Dickau Buyout

I can't wait to buy a Jordan jersey.

Goin' Nowhere Fast

2007-09-27T07:45:00.000-04:00

I think it's safe to say that this little fool isn't going to be too quick to get anywhere. Ever.
Store manager Jay Jacoby displays a two-headed red slider turtle at Big Al's Aquarium Supercenter in East Norriton Pa., Wednesday, Sept. 26, 2007. The rare turtle is on display at the store. (AP Photo/Matt Rourke)

That's No Lie

2007-09-26T23:32:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I got this message from Lozo via Gmail chat: Your instincts for finding jackassery never fail you

It was part insult, part compliment and part fortune cookie wisdom. Either way, I think it's absolutely correct and maybe even worthy of being a tattoo on my body someday.

Bacon That Sausage

2007-09-24T20:44:00.000-04:00

Everybody knows that bacon is delicious. Really, most meat considered suitable for breakfast is. This weekend an acquaintance was making some bacon. I was patiently waiting by for a piece. As the bacon is cooking he busts out some sausage patties. Breakfast is looking batter and better, right? Well yes, but the curious thing here is that it wasn't breakfast time at all. It was like 10pm. But whatever! If salty pork products are being made who am I to complain about the timing?

Anyway, the bacon is pretty much cooked and the cook has not bothered to drain any of the bacon grease at all so there is a pretty deep collection of artery clogging liquid in the bottom of the pan. As he pulls the bacon out I'm expecting him to dump the grease in a can or whatever and continue to stage two -- sausage. As opposed to the expected grease drain and then sausage cook he just goes straight in with the sausage. Now we're cooking sausage right in the bacon goodness! Genius.

Sure I've cooked eggs in some bacon grease, some potatoes in bacon grease and maybe even a couple of pancakes in a little residual bacon grease, but I don't think I've ever bathed my sausage in bacon grease. I'm guessing 5 out of 5 doctors would agree that this isn't a good idea, but I am also guessing that 5 out of 5 doctors would agree that this idea is mighty delicious.

Whorin' Across America

2007-09-20T23:38:00.000-04:00

This posting on craigslist got me wondering many things, but mostly, who the fuck in their right mind would buy into this "deal"?:

Ladies-Cheap/free ride to SF or LA 9/28
Reply to: comm-427573769@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-09-20, 4:29PM EDT

The trip:

Western PA
Chicago
Omaha
Laramie
Salt Lake City
Reno
SF-2 nights
Big Sur
LA

All hotels three star or better. Real restaurants,no Denny.s no fast food.
The options:

Share all expenses. Rooms with two beds or get your own room.

I pay for rooms with two beds and we share my bed an hour each night.

I pay for hotels,gas, meals and all expenses. We share one bed each night

I suppose the "own room" option isn't bad, except that you know the guy you are in the car with all the way across America is creepy as hell and is wanting to hump you for the cost of splitting a hotel room. What's that, maybe $40 in most parts of the country? The other option will save you money, but will have you in that creepy guy's hotel bed for at least 9 nights. Sure it's just one hour each night, but that one hour is probably 60 minutes more than would be comfortable. And of course, this is all contingent upon you making it past night three without being chopped up and thrown in a ditch.

It's like a movie waiting to happen.

And no, I'm not the guy who posted that deal.

Watch Love

2007-09-15T11:16:00.000-04:00

So I got myself a new watch. Mostly for running which I have been trying to do yet again. I did a half-marathon not too long ago, but once I was done with that what did I do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I ran twice the week following just to stretch out and get back in the groove, but it was really hot that week and as opposed to getting back in the groove all I did was get really sweaty, curse a lot and complain about how my legs hurt. After that, I sat on my ass for close to a month.

I'm beginning to face facts that I don't really like running. I don't look forward to running or get runner's high or anything like that. I do get a sense of accomplishment if I reach a goal I have set for myself and I tend to lose some weight and I think I must like self inflicted torture on some level, but other than that running is not my friend. Anyway, now I'm back into it again and since the battery on my old watch was dying I just opted for a new watch. This is the one I got: Highgear Enduro Max (in red).

Fancy.

I haven't even gone running with this watch yet, but I love it. Yeah, so I'm excited about a watch. Fuck off.

Black and red (my favorite), easy to use, on sale at Campmor and has all the features I need/want. I am especially excited at the fact that it has the ability to keep track of intervals. So if I want to run for five minutes and then walk for one minute and then run for 15 minutes and then walk for three (or whatever combo I'd like), the watch can be set to count that down for me. No more math in my head while trying to run. The less math the better I like to say. I didn't even know this watch had this ability until I got it home, making it a pleasant surprise indeed. I had asked around at various stores for years trying to find a watch that did this. Everyone would always tell me that such a thing did not exist. Most watches would have a standard chronograph and a countdown timer and usually some sort of lap counter, but not something for intervals. Well, my quest is now over. Thanks, Highgear.

If you'll please excuse me, I'm going to go have some sex with my watch now.

Playtime Over

2007-09-13T23:42:00.001-04:00

This is a sad state of affairs, no? The Playpen not only closed, but knocked to the ground?: Old Times Square Theater Now Porno Emporium Faces Wrecking Ball I hate it.

Not only is the Playpen the only filthy Times Squarish porn joint I have ever been in (very briefly), but it also served as the backdrop for the liner photos on Kid Rock's Devil Without A Cause. Not a landmark, my ass! I say build your big, "luxury" high rise and keep the facade, marquee and all. It would be awesome.

"Hey man, where do you live again?
"Oh, I live in the Playpen building."
"Sweet. I'll be right over."

I'm no real estate mogul, but keeping that facade certainly sounds like two things: (1) Genius. (2) Gold mine.

Think about it, Tishman. Think about it.

Slightly Therapeutic. Only Slightly.

2007-09-11T13:22:00.000-04:00

So another September 11th is upon us. I would like to think that at some point this day will stop being a depressing, reminiscing, anger brewing day, but I'm sure this is the way it will always be. This year sucks extra as it's pretty difficult for me not to trek through Ground Zero and the chaos that surrounds it on the way to work via the PATH train. Conveniently, I got out of the subway and was a quarter of a block away from Ground Zero when the bells start ringing, signaling the time when the first plane hit. Downer. And this rainy weather certainly isn't helping either. I can't believe all that went down six years ago. How fucking old am I?

Anyway, I don't care to watch any video montages of that sunny day back in 2001 or really blah, blah, blah about this, but I figure some sort of WTC something is in order, no? How about one of my favorite uses for the towers ever (at least in a media sort of way)?: Is Fred Durst a tool? You betcha, but that's not the point. Rockin' out on the roof of the south tower is pretty cool (Who gets to do that? And how much did all that cost -- clearance, helicopters, dancing girls?) Personally I find it a bit less depressing than watching planes hit buildings, people jumping to their death and lots of running from explosions of dust. Wes Borland's makeup is pretty cool too. Take note.

Keep your chin up, everyone.

Not On Oprah's List, But I Don't Care

2007-09-06T23:26:00.001-04:00

After work today I went to the Strand where I picked me up some books. Imagine that, me reading! Anyway, among the books selected, I picked up Melissa Plaut's book, Hack: How I Stopped Worrying About What to Do with My Life and Started Driving a Yellow Cab.

I've been reading her blog for quite some time now and figured why not see how she is in non-electronic form and at the same time possibly contribute some cash to someone who seems like a decent human being.

I can't really give a review yet (nor will I knowing my laziness), but I can tell you a couple of things. First, I was reading her book on the train uptown tonight and read right through my stop. I didn't notice I had missed it until I was two stops past where I should have gotten off. That must be some sort of endorsement. Also, during my ride uptown and then back out to Brooklyn I managed to read 52 pages which is very unlike me. So, my review at this point is "thumbs up." Go ahead and buy it.

Just When I Thought Things Were Gettin' Better

2007-08-28T12:23:00.000-04:00

Another fun day in my 'hood ... three blocks from my apartment: Brooklyn Girl Shot, Leads Little Brother To Safety

And that girl? Totally badass.

Consolidate My Pocket

2007-08-27T14:34:00.000-04:00

I always seem to have my pockets filled with crap when I leave the house. Keys, cash, cell phone, credit cards, ID, ATM card, MetroCard, PATH QuickCard, grocery store discount cards, library card, insurance cards, blah, blah blah. Sure, some of it I never seem to use, but the one day I leave it at home is always the day I need it. This little iCache may just be my answer to me livin' a bit lighter: iCache

Keep that in mind, Santa.

Who Doesn't?

2007-08-27T00:25:00.001-04:00

I went to N.J. today and the first car I see when leaving the ferry terminal had this awesome bumper sticker on it:
Maybe the greatest bumper sticker of all time.

Slightly Bingey

2007-08-20T23:15:00.000-04:00

Here you go, Lozo. No more toe photo. You can stop your crying ...

This weekend I went away with some of my friends and despite not being quite as young and iron-livered as we used to be we still managed to drink a fairly decent amount of booze. Along with the cans of Genesee and Coors Light (I don't know why -- leave me alone), we also busted into the hard stuff. It was a textbook binge drinking sort of situation. Note this photo:
That Chivas bottle? 1.75 liters. Little more than halfway gone. That emptiness is due to myself and one of my friends going a bit overboard one night.

The other bottle? That's 90.4 proof Smirnoff. At the liquor store, there was two bottles of Smirnoff to chose from. One, the standard 80 proof, the other the 90.4 proof., both the same price. I'll take the kick in the face please. About three quarters of that bottle was gone by morning. That was me too. That was split with a different friend the night after the Chivas night.

Moral of the story? I think at the time there was one, but at this point, I don't really know. Nevertheless, I think my liver hates me.

Toe vs. Cart

2007-08-13T01:12:00.000-04:00

Maybe it's too many years of having my groceries delivered by Fresh Direct or perhaps it's just the fact that I am a shopping spaz, but here's what a trip to the grocery store on Friday resulted in:
Yeah, so accidentally kicking the wheel of your shopping cart, while trying to get at some produce isn't good. Unless turning your little, defenseless toe a purplish black is somehow good.

The Ohio and The Bklyn

2007-08-10T10:48:00.000-04:00

So, as I previously mentioned, I've been out in not so sunny Cleveland, OH for work. It was a two week stay, then back to New York for the weekend as I was signed up to run the NYC Half-Marathon and then after brunch and repacking, it was back to Cleveland again for another week.
Cleveland has involved work (obviously), a baseball game (Indians vs. Twins), some runs through some sketchy neighborhoods, a lot of corned beef sandwiches, some grilling, a lot of rain, some bowling (143 and 137, thank you very much), many comments about Styrofoam and other environmental fiascos the city seems to embrace, some beers, a couple of concerts (Slayer/Marilyn Manson & Incubus/The Bravery), lunchtime naps in my hotel room, etc. It's not the worst place in the world, but certainly not the best either.

Speaking of worst places in the world ... remember how I recently moved? Well, while I don't find my neighborhood scary or horrible (yet) there have been a few neighborhood "incidents" that are making me wonder what the hell I have gotten myself into.

Incident #1: Saturday, (the day I moved in), this guy manages to carjack two different cars, shot at the home of his girlfriend and then got killed by the police in a shootout (135 shots, NYPD? Really?). story

Incident #2: Early Monday morning (two days after I moved in), police pull over a stolen SUV. As they approach the vehicle, both cops are shot. One dies, the other would have been dead if not for his bulletproof vest. story
Note: the dickheads involved were caught quickly

Incident #3: This past Saturday, when I came back to NYC from Cleveland, I get in a cab at LGA to go home. I tell the driver where I am going and he looks at me in the rear view and says in a thick Indian accent, "That's not a very nice area, sir." Gee, thanks. Either way, that's where I live so let's just go. The as we get close, he adds, "Perhaps this is not a very good neighborhood for you. When I drive around here, if I get lost? I don't stop to ask for directions. I just keep going."

Incident #4: This past Sunday, post running the half-marathon, as I'm cleaning up the apartment and myself a bit and packing for my return to Cleveland, the doorbell rings. I answer it and see a guy standing there with a badge around his neck. He introduces himself as whatever his rank is at the NYPD and asks if I live in this apartment. I tell him I do. He asks if I was home last night. I tell him I was. He asks if I heard or saw anything unusual outside the night previous. I tell him that I was in the back of the apartment in my room or the "office" most of the night and ask why he is asking. He tells me, "There was an argument between two men out here last night and one of them got stabbed." Perfect.

So, that's the fun in my life at this point. Two more days here in The Cleve and I'm back to my glamorous NYC life.

Secret Sauce

2007-08-04T21:25:00.000-04:00

I've been out in Cleveland, OH for work the last couple of weeks. More on that later.

In the meantime, check out this receipt from a pizza I ordered from Donatos while out there:
CUMSHAKE? I don't remember ordering that at all.

Nothing To See Here

2007-07-19T11:42:00.000-04:00

This post on craigslist isn't even a tad bit sketchy:

I need to rent someone car with tinted windows
Reply to: comm-377346903@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-07-19, 11:11AM EDT

I need a car with tinted widows to rent thanks

Location: Staten island
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 377346903

Lexington Crater

2007-07-19T00:31:00.000-04:00

So I happened to be in midtown (or whatever you want to call that neighborhood) last evening and got to witness this shitshow. Crazy.

I took an obligatory cell phone photo and once again kicked myself for not carrying my real camera with me more regularly:
Mmmmmmm smokey
I have to wonder if a bit of karma or cosmic intervention or luck or whatever might have saved my ass. On my way up to 42nd Street on the 4 train, we get to 14th Street/Union Square and proceed to get stuck in the station for like 15 minutes due to some door issues. I guess they wouldn't shut or something. If not for that, I probably would have continued on as planned, got off the train at 42nd Street and walked back down Lexington to my destination. And the timing of it all makes me think that I very well could have been right around the explosion zone at the wrong time. Instead, thanks to some crappy door, I wound up getting off my 4 train and got on the 6 train (also slow). When we got to 33rd Street they announced that it would be the last stop and everyone got off only to come upstairs to a giant cloud of smoke and steam.

Man September 11th has changed everyone. It's just complete panic if anything goes wrong. Not that I wasn't thinking like that too, but it really is shitty that when anything of decent magnitude happens we all think "terrorists!"

So anyway, it wasn't terrorists so that's nice and I guess I owe that shitty door some thanks. Or maybe the stars. I don't know. Either way, I feel pretty OK to be alive.

Stop Me When I'm Passin' By

2007-07-17T23:08:00.000-04:00

So this new neighborhood of mine is quite different from my old one. There are a lot of things such as (a) I'm the only white person that I've seen and (b) there are lots of anti-robbery styled Chinese restaurants and delis. There are plenty more, but I don't know that they need to be discussed here and now. That said, the one difference that I think is the most entertaining so far is the ice cream man.

Now maybe I've lived a sheltered life, but most of my experience involves the ice cream man rolling by in the afternoon or evening -- targeting times when kids with money from mom and/or dad can chase them down. Not around these parts. The first night I was here was a Saturday and two friends were over enjoying some Chinese food and a 40 oz. or two. Then that distinctive ice cream man music came sailing through the sticky Brooklyn air. It didn't even really register at first, but then a couple of minutes later my friend says, "The fucking ice cream man? It's 12:45! A.M.!" I instantly think of Mr. Whoopee from Vice City out delivering things other than ice cream.

Then tonight I just heard him again. 11:04pm on a Tuesday? Lot of kids out there? Maybe there are. I don't really know nor do I feel like looking, but nevertheless, it's odd. At least odd for everywhere else I've ever lived.

Ah, Brooklyn.

When Lacking in Material Run With Gore(d)

2007-07-16T22:50:00.000-04:00

So I was going to blog and then sort of drew a blank. There's some shit I wanted to blah, blah, blah about, but can't for various reasons. It's a little annoying to say the least but that's life I suppose. Anyway, just so I don't have nothing at all, I thought I would post a photo. Photos are always fun, no?

So, I was away this weekend. Where? None of your F'ing business, that's where. Ha! Anyway, when I was away this weekend I picked up the local paper during breakfast/TV watching and there was a nice, big version of this photo. Pretty sick for a family publication, but really, who's going to pass on this shit when the AP shoves it in your face?
Michael Lenahan, 23, of Philadelphia, Pa. is gored in the leg by a fighting bull during a traditional bull run in Pamplona, Spain, Thursday July 12, 2007. Two American brothers were gored Thursday during the longest and bloodiest morning bull run at the San Fermin festival in the northeastern city of Pamplona. Lawrence Lenahan, 26, of Hermosa Beach, Calif. and Michael Lenahan, 23, of Philadelphia, Pa. were gored by a bull who strayed from the pack, turned around and ran the wrong way. The older brother suffered a eight-inch (20-centimeter) goring in the left buttock after a dangerous sharp right turn in the course Lenahan described as a 'dead man's curve.' The younger brother was injured shortly before the bull ring, the end point of the daily runs, after the bulls horn entered beneath his skin in his right shin. (AP Photo/ Inaki Porto) [http://news.yahoo.com/photo/070713/481/ef5af798074f4a4e8070577d110017a8]
And if you read that caption, you'll see that Shin Boy and his brother both got gored. Worst running family ever it seems.

I knew it was bad, but the color version really shows the detail a little better than the B&W version in the newspaper. I think it's safe to say that this is not something you want happening to your leg. Ever.

I'm into piercings, body modification and cool scars, but a horn under my skin from mid-shin to knee is a bit much. Nevertheless, who wants to run next year? It looks like fun. Oh, and you Lenahans ain't invited.

New Pad

2007-07-09T13:02:00.000-04:00

So as of this past Saturday afternoon I am a resident of Brooklyn. You can probably tell as I am already way more hip and slightly more gangsta.

When I first moved to NYC, I lived in Manhattan for a bit, but then moved to Brooklyn where I spent a year in a rather annoying and awkward living situation. Although I managed to have fun (mostly thanks to $1.75 PBRs at The Village Idiot), it wasn't my greatest year on the planet by any means. I sort of blamed Brooklyn and swore to never move back, but here I am once again. But whatever, I think this time through it might be a little better. If nothing else I'm sure it will result in some blogging material (let's hope).

Also nice is the fact that I can now make use of some popular (or not so popular if you're not me) music that just isn't fitting unless living in Brooklyn. Well I suppose it could be, but I think it's a little bit better as a resident. Let's see:

Beastie Boys (featuring Kerry King of Slayer fame on the guitar solo)
"No Sleep Till Brooklyn"
You know you this will be in my head during every late night journey back home. Rule of the year -- don't fall asleep until I get to my bed. Or at least the couch.
Universal Music Group ain't down with the embedded feature so you'll have to hassle yourself with a link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RI2IyHXJo5M

Biohazard
"Five Blocks To The Subway"
This is nice as my new crib is actually five blocks away from the subway. Now I can honestly sing along "Five blocks to the subway, I can do that any day." Any day. I did it this morning as a matter of fact.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qVO8tSbJgPY

Biohazard
"Wrong Side Of The Tracks"
This is all about gearin' up for possible trouble when wondering around, but probably more useful when wanting to (a) scare my family with how tough my neighborhood is or (b) building street cred with all those pansy friends of mine who are back in fancy Manhattan or the suburbs. I'm tough now. Remember that! Oh, the phrase that makes it all work is "And when you're in fuckin' Brooklyn, you best watch your back!"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-Qw0Y_w6n4

3rd Bass
"Brooklyn-Queens"
After those Biohazard tunes, you have to lighten the mood a bit. How better than with some good ol' 3rd Bass? Brooklyn footage, sweet 1989 fashion and some dope dance moves by MC Search (including a sweet leap frog move) make an already catchy tune even better when in video form. Feel free to sing along.
Another Universal Music Group restricted deal (what's up with you, Universal?): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4WWDprtFMM

Watta Ya, Born In A Barn?

2007-07-09T00:07:00.000-04:00

So on Saturday I moved out of ~~Stink~~Stuytown to head for greener pastures. Greener? Well probably not, but definitely cheaper pastures at least.

On my way out I had one of those nice last kicks that made the leaving less bittersweet and more just F.U., I'm out.

I'm standing by the moving truck guarding all my riches and this older woman comes out and heads my way. She's old enough to be my mom and seems pleasant enough. She starts off with "You have the door propped open." Definitely a statement, not a question.

Me: Yeah.

Lady: You know there was a break in a few weeks ago because the door was propped open and someone got held up at knife point.

Me: [thinking "Bullshit, lady"]: No, I didn't hear that.

Lady: Well it happened.

Me: Sorry to hear that.

Lady: Well the door shouldn't be open.

Me: OK.

Lady: You wouldn't think a knife point hold up was funny if it was your mother or girlfriend or sister.

Me: I don't really think it's funny now. I'm not laughing.

Lady: Well it's serious.

Me: OK. I know that.

Lady: You are standing here within sight of the door, I understand that, but you don't know who lives here and who doesn't.

Me: OK. I get it.

Lady: [walking away] If you get it, then go shut the fucking door.

Me: I'm not sure why you are cursing at me.

Lady: Fuck you.

Geez. How I'll miss my friendly, friendly neighbors.

On a side note, the neighbors I "saved" were nice about me leaving. No "F" word at all. The lady gave me a hug and even got a little teary and the guy gave me a "Good luck out there kid" which is I think as close to a hug as he's ever come.

Chili Dog

2007-06-24T23:37:00.000-04:00

I'm not Mr. Sports by any means, but this is a sports story that inspires a little mention here in Stinktown. Rod Beck was found dead in his home on Saturday. Two things motivated me to write here.

The first is that he was 38. This always freaks me out. It sounds pretty young to die to begin with, but then I realize that I'm only four years younger than that and I think "shit I'm old" and also reinforces that 38 is too young to die. At least for me.

The second thing is my friend and former co-worker, Matt D. Matt is probably the only reason I paid any legitimate attention to Beck. This happened back when Beck was on the (hated) Red Sox. One night we were watching the some Yankees/Red Sox action on the work TV (watch CNN my ass!) and Beck was just being his usual fat, messy, crazy mustache-wearin' self, but that was enough for us.

Matt says to me something like, "You know what that guy's favorite food is?"

I say, "No, what?"

"Chili dogs."

"What? How do you know that?"

"I don't know. He just looks like he eats chili dogs all day long."

"You have a point. That's entirely possible."

I was sort of mulling over the idea of eating nothing buy chili dogs a little while later while still watching the game and Matt comes by again.

"You know the flavor that gum Beck is chewing?"
I look over at Matt and before I could throw out a guess ... "Chili dog."

So, ever since that day I've referred to Rod Beck as "Chili Dog" and probably always will. I hope Beck will understand that this isn't all that much of an insult coming from someone with my eating habits and won't ask God to drag me off this wacky planet in less than four years. I've got shit to do around here still.

Thanks for the memories, Chili Dog.

Smokey Wakeup

2007-06-14T00:46:00.000-04:00

So I'll start by saying that I sleep pretty heavy. If there is one thing I do in this world well, it's sleep. I've been known to sleep through some pretty loud shit in my day and honestly it is nice.

So, that said, last night I'm doing my usual deep sleep and I get blown out of it with the sound of breaking glass. The first one I'm thinking maybe it is just some A-hole garbage truck guys throwing shit in the back of the truck, and don't allow myself to get all the way awake, but then another one comes and another. I jump out of bed. It's 2:50am. I go to the window figuring that someone is smashing up someone's car windows or something. Maybe some sort of Jerry Springerish love triangle exposed or something. When I look out, there's none of that. Instead, it's a big fucking fire truck, ladder extended up to the 5th floor (just three floors under me) with a fireman smashing out my neighbors windows so they can get at what? A fucking fire. A fucking fire! Just three floors below. Holy shit!

Years of stupid fire drills at work and school and then all kinds of PSAs and educational pamphlets and movies and whatever else fire-related shit I have in storage fly through my head. I grab some shorts, jump in them, throw on my newly purchased flip flops and gather up money, cell phone and credit cards/ID. I quickly rethink my process and then opt for sneakers instead of flip flops as that seems like open toe style could be a mistake. I open the door (after feeling it first, of course) and the hall is filled with smoke. Stinky smoke. It wasn't so bad that I had to crawl or anything, but I did put my shirt over my mouth and nose. I knock and ring doorbells waking up neighbors (Hero!!) and hit the stairwell furthest from the fire.

Once I got below the 5th floor I felt a little safer and tried to get the adrenaline under control. I was still pretty jittery for awhile though. I think waking up to glass breaking alone would have gotten me riled up, but the fire along with it was sort of overdose.

Anyway, the fire was put out and other than the usual water/smoke damage I think everything ended well. My hall still smells a bit smokey and I'm sure there are some messed up apartments, but mine is fine. Phew. I was able to get back in bed around 4ish and got back to what I do best, sleep ... and oversleep, making myself late for work. Perfect.

Here are some photos from the night taken with my cell. I missed most of the action (the smoke, flame and glass smashing) but at least it's something:

From the ground, looking up:

From my living room window looking down:

Nothing Like Sex To Bring Back The Blog

2007-06-12T23:24:00.000-04:00

I've had some complaints about my lack of blogging. You know what? Fuck you guys. Really. I do this for free and to be quite honest I have quite a bit going on in my world.

I kid. I'll admit it. I have been pretty lazy, but I guess that's nothing new. I've been really lazy. Really, really lazy. Plus I've been just feeling rather lacking in the creative or interesting I guess.

Anywho, here's something for you complainers, those of you with patience and maybe even for me as perhaps this will get the old creative juices flowing a bit ...

I went to the Central Park Zoo this weekend. The polar bear swimming around on his back was cool as were the wacky penguins, but this was my favorite part of the day:
That's right. Reptile sex!! Note how the guy doing the riding is using his buddy's (or maybe competition's) head for leverage. Just step right on there and you've got a whole new angle to work from. You can click on the photos for a bigger version if you want to really inspect the method in use and perhaps incorporate it into your own bedroom or barnyard antics.

Although I couldn't get him to turn his head any further, this shot still manages to capture the O-face pretty well:

Good times!

Man, That's Refreshing

2007-05-13T10:27:00.000-04:00

I keep stumbling upon this retarded ad for Skoal Citrus Blend:

I'm not much for analyzing ads, but every time I see this I think there are some major problems going on.

First, is the gal in the background with the surfboard. Where the fuck is she going? There are no waves anywhere in sight and unless a tsunami comes I don't think there will be. Sorry honey, but that's the way some of these reef-protected tropical islands work.

Second (and this is the big one, at least in my eyes), is these idiots jumping off the boat. Check out the two girls closest to them. The water barely comes up to their thighs. That leap from the boat is going to hurt. The water isn't going to do a damn thing to cushion the impact. Those three midair jackasses are going to hit the water, the packed sand below, break their legs, scream, swallow their Skoal, throw up and then get dragged to some shitty hospital where they will stay for the remainder of their vacation. They will not be getting laid, getting tan or having fruity drinks with little umbrellas in them. How embarrassing. But shit, maybe that is just one of the best ways of "discovering local flavor."

A-holes.

Sunday Again

2007-05-06T22:55:00.000-04:00

For the first time in awhile I have had a weekend that was a nice mix of activities. Really all the way from nothing to something. Such a Renaissance man, I am.

Thursday, I went to B.B. King's to see Front Line Assembly with Jeff (aka Y.B.). Not one of my favorite bands ever, but I've heard some of their shit and I thought I'd give them a shot. It was a good time. Good music, dry ice fog, lots of kickass drumming and a wacky crowd. A lot of older, industrial/punk types which is always fun -- business jerks by day/hard rockin', head bobbin', surly starin' fucks at night. It doesn't get better than that.

After a late start on Friday, I found a date for some early evening fun. My date was Lozo. H-O-T!! When I get together with Lozo there are two givens: (1) making fun of people (including ourselves) and (2) laughs. I guess I really should add (3) drinking as I think every time I've seen Lozo since he left my place of employment there has been beer involved. Anyway, we went to see Hot Fuzz. I'd recommend that you go read Lozo's review here, as he is a bit more slick with the words. Brigita has a little review 'round here also. I'll just wind up saying things like "fucking funny" and "I nearly pissed my pants laughing" which isn't really classy enough for you educated readers so I'll leave the dirty work to them. But really, I suggest seeing that movie STAT. That is if you like to piss your pants in public.

Saturday, I headed up to the Boogie Down for some Yankees baseball. Bleacher seats, baking in the sun, idiots all around and thanks to "rules" there is no beer. No beer in the bleachers. It's like prison. I eventually got over this irritation and was fine, but really! Come on! The game came pretty close to being a historic event. Chien-Ming Wang, so very, very close to being only the 16th pitcher to manage a perfect game since 1900 and the first since 2004, but alas, one out into the 8th inning it all got wrecked.

Saturday night I had some Brooklyn time, visiting with some long lost friends in "The Slope." We went to Union Hall. Pretty cool minus all the douche bags there. Especially the one guy playing bocce who was so fucking smug I was feeling the urge to smash my beer bottle across his face. You'd think I would have just gotten in there and beat him in bocce, but I felt like the beer bottle was a better solution at the time. Nevertheless, I opted to not play or smash.

Today (Sunday) I did jack shit. Well, I did some stuff, but nothing worth reporting at all.

And the curtain falls on another weekend.

Say It How It Is

2007-05-02T21:30:00.001-04:00

On my way to work today I passed the Beauty Bar as I often do. The majority of the front window is totally smashed. The one chunk of surviving glass had this note attached that really started my day off right:
Photo taken with my new phone. Not too bad.

Nevada to the Pig

2007-04-27T12:05:00.000-04:00

Dear Nevada Smith's,

Sorry it has taken me so long to write this, but I've had a bit of an off week. But anyway, better late than never as some like to say. So, here we go. Remember last Sunday when I stopped in to have a couple of brews with my friends? Well, whether you do or not, I'd like to voice my disapproval and give you a big ol' "fuck you" for throwing me out just because I had a skateboard with me. Was I riding it or swinging it around or even talking about its existence? No to all of the above. It was just leaning against the wall, out of the way. It wasn't dangerous to anyone or anything. This is extra sad as we've had such a long history together. Since I first visited you back in June of 1996 you have been filled with annoying people, but at least you were cool to me personally. But now you've wrecked it. WRECKED IT! I'm sure you'll survive without me, but I thought you should know what happened. Jerks. You suck.

Sincerely,
WJR

PS We went a few blocks away to the more accepting, Blind Pig Bar and Grill. They didn't mind the skateboard or the fact that we liked exchanging money for beer.

Bring On the Heat

2007-04-19T22:16:00.000-04:00

I know it's not even the end of April yet, and I know the weather certainly hasn't been hinting at anything other than winter lasting forever, but today I got something that makes me feel a little confident that summer is just around the corner. Strawberries. Feast your eyes on this fat motherfucker and tell me that juicy, red deliciousness doesn't shout "Warm days ahead!"

And it was indeed delicious.

The Cleve

2007-04-18T22:26:00.000-04:00

So, this past weekend I went to Cleveland, Ohio. I got to visit with some old friends and made some new ones. Sure the new ones were mostly drunken lunatics, but would I want to meet anyone who's not?

It was my first time in Cleveland. Actually, it was my first time in Ohio. Due to the last second nature of the trip, I got there via automobile instead of by plane. Just in case you are thinking that is a good idea, I could tell you otherwise. While it's not the worst thing in the world, it's certainly not the most fun either. Construction, truckers clogging up both lanes, rain, snow, wind, zero scenery to look at ... it's crappy. Co-worker, Jeff (aka Y.B.) made the trip with me in a rented Hyundai Sonata. I didn't think it was too awesome on first glance, but it was remarkably smooth drivin' and quick. When traffic wasn't messing up our business we hovered around 80mph or above, and the Sonata complained not. Nor did the police. We survived 1,018 miles of driving over a span of about 16 hours (roundtrip, stops included) on a steady diet of sunflower seeds, water, beef jerky, Gatorade, DQ Blizzards and CDs galore (including Huey Lewis and the News -- can someone tell me how they are not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?).

So anyway, despite all that, it turns out that Cleveland was pretty fun. I'm not sure I'm prepared to move there, but as far as a town with some good people, drinkin' options and entertainment, it ain't half bad. We hit an Indians game, had some beers, stole some pizza, yelled at smokers, did a little tour of the town, ate some brunch, went for a jog, ate some dinner, went to a birthday party, drank many drinks, brawled with one of my hosts (the female one), went on a joyride to Denny's and slept very little.

An exciting sidenote, is that I have now been in another state in our great land. That puts me to being in 50% of our great nation (does not include stopping in airports), and spending the night in 39%. I have a ways to go, but I have plenty of time.

Been in 26 states (50%):

create your own visited states map

Slept in 20 states (39%):

create your own visited states map

Woooo! Exciting stuff!

Here are some photos that I think are worthy of showing (hopefully the subjects in them won't mind):

Myself and Kevin doing God knows what. Looking tough. Or maybe just lost. I don't know.

When I was younger, someone making this mistake might get written/drawn on with a Sharpie. Now that we are older, wiser and more mature, they just get fingers of disapproval. Here Alberto gets the abuse.

Here's me with Meg C., 50% of the birthday team that was our motivation for our trip to begin with. I think we may have had a bit to drink at this point in the night. Oooh, yes. I actually have a shot in hand at that very moment. Kudos to me.

Here my trusty roadtrip sidekick/co-pilot, Y.B. [right] demonstrates how we in Jersey City react when B.C. [left] sends us requests/work/anything from Cleveland.

That's all I guess, until my next journey to the state that's Hi in the middle and round on both ends: O-Hi-O ... get it? That never gets old.

Peeped

2007-04-10T23:43:00.000-04:00

Last night I went to see Peeping Tom at Irving Plaza. Fucking good.

Before I get to the goodness, a brief side note. According to a sign there, that was the last show at Irving Plaza as the name is changing to The Fillmore. Why? I don't know. Change in ownership I'm guessing, but even so Irving Plaza seemed good to me. Irving Plaza on Irving Place ... it seems like that all makes things easy to recognize and easy to find, but that's just me.

So, in any case, the show was good. Well, I said fucking good in the first line so I guess I should stick with that. The show was fucking good. Mike Patton (although possibly deranged) is a musical and entertainment genius so off to a good start. Along with Patton was Dan the Automator making Synthesizer noise/scratching, a keyboard guy, the Dub Trio (a drummer, bass player & guitar player), a back-up singer, Imani Coppola who added some violin when not singing, and another back-up singer/beatboxer, Butterscotch.

As an added bonus, Jennifer Charles of Elysian Fields and Lovage fame (?) came to (sort of) help out on a tune and Rahzel of The Roots fame came on encore style, to do a little beatboxing and help out on a cover of Bobby Womack's "Across 110th Street." Pretty sweet.

I'll also mention that Patton was wearing a red, button down shirt with a bulletproof vest over it. I guess he was going with the gangsta motif. Anyway, that's all the recap I'm gonna do.

I will also mention this too ... now I'm not one to often get all that excited about famous folk, and even less often do I get a stage or celebrity crushes going, but I think I now have one. It's Butterscotch. The beatboxing was awesome, she sings, she plays instruments, she can dribble a basketball better than me (that might not be too impressive actually), oh and did I mention the cuteness? No? Well, she's cute too. I think big, fat guy when I think beatbox, but not in this case.

There. I said it and it feels good to get it off my chest.

Anywho, here is a pretty cool clip of her on Tom Green Live. Sit through the whole thing. It's worth it:

-fin-

Sneaking Under The Midnight Cutoff

2007-04-09T23:43:00.000-04:00

Dear Meg C.,

Happy Birthday, yo!

Sincerely,
Me

Calendar Confusion

2007-04-08T21:16:00.000-04:00

Is it just me, or is it odd they are releasing the remake of Halloween on August 31? That's two months before the actual Halloween just in case you couldn't piece that together. It will probably be out of the theaters by the time October even hits. I think that might be beyond just odd. It might actually be dumb. But then again, I'm not a Hollywood bigshot.

If you desire, you can peep the trailer here. I don't know if it will be good, but I think it is safe to say that it will be bloody.

Geographical Genius

2007-04-07T00:50:00.000-04:00

So I'm at the post office in good ol' Jersey City on Thursday. I overhear a conversation between a guy in line who has a package going to Canada and the woman behind the counter:

USPS lady: You want airmail?
Guy: Sure. I guess.
USPS lady: OK, that will be seven to ten days.
Guy: OK. How long for the non-airmail option?
USPS lady: Airmail is seven to ten days, the other option is by boat which will take fourteen to twenty days.
Guy: By boat?
USPS lady: Yup.
Guy: By boat?
USPS lady: Yes.
Guy: Um ... Oh ... Kay. Um, I guess I'll go with the airmail.

Boat to Canada? I'm not sure which part of Canada it was going to, but it's odd they wouldn't just drive it or maybe put it on a train. Maybe they go via Erie Canal? Or maybe from Jersey, down through the Panama Canal and back up to Canada? Who's to say? I guess the USPS knows best though.

That Looks Natural

2007-04-04T22:06:00.000-04:00

When I was up at the 'rents house a couple of days ago I found a bag of photos in my closet. I haven't looked through all of them yet, but from the looks of things most seem to be from my college years. And that means some real historical gems. Lucky readers you are!

Instead of being patient, looking through them and finding an order or a theme I'm just going to get one from the top of the bag into the blogging mix ASAP.

This is another in the "Man you had some ~~stupid~~ awesome hair!" category. I had had some dumb haircuts before this, but this is my first venture into dye ... well, that is if you ignore the time I soaked my hair in cranberry juice (which seemed to attract a lot of winged insects and not really make my hair reddish) or the time I dunked my head in a bucket of undiluted swimming pool chlorine (which burned my scalp and made my hair feel a bit like straw). So, yeah. Let's just say it's my first hair dye venture. This was my sophomore year of college, so it was 1992 or 1993, making me 19 or 20. My friend Marge helped me with this venture as she is always up for anything that she can laugh at.

Along with the color, there seemed to be a strange part going on. Just to set the record straight, I think this part was created from having it in some sort of weird position, up in a towel while drying. I didn't generally walk around with my hair parted like this:

Either way, it was pretty obnoxious. Mission accomplished.

Stay tuned for the evolution of WJR's hair. Eventually more photos will surface. Guaranteed.

Back To The Grind ... A Slightly Odd Grind

2007-04-04T21:12:00.000-04:00

So, Friday was supposed to be my last day at work, but I was asked to stay on for a little while. I had a couple of days off, and went upstate to visit with the 'rents but was back to the grind today. When I walked into work this morning I was the only person here. Really, the only person. So it's just me and my computer and the apple I brought. A little spooky coming in and seeing nobody in an area that in normal times, over the course of the day had forty somethin' people running around, screaming, throwing papers and slamming phones. ... it was actually so quiet today that I could hear water running down from the roof through some sort of drainage pipe in the wall behind me. At least I hope there is a pipe back there. My aloneness ended after an hour and a half or so, but even then it was only a five person posse. Anyway, crisis averted, other than a lot of forest destroyed to fulfil my need of tissues to mop up my tears.

I did get to have some "me time" before anyone got there which involved staring into space and listening to the new Machine Head album. Only eight tracks, although some were long, so we'll let it slide. It's actually pretty good. Some are saying their best ever. I'm not sure if I agree with all that. The music may be more intricate, but intricacy isn't what necessarily brings joy to my ears.

Anyway, work is OK in this new format. Fewer people, fewer phones, less interaction with the outside world all pluses. I thought going back after already having my mind set on being an unemployed slob would be bad, but it's not all that horrible. At least after one day it's not. We'll see if that lasts.

What a disjointed mess that post was!

Still Workin' It Out

2007-03-30T22:03:00.000-04:00

So, as I mentioned before, March 30 (today) was my last day at work. Exciting, no? Well, actually no. There was a last minute change of plans. I'm back working again. Just keeping you people on your toes, yo!

Due to some staffing issues in other offices, good ol' work was looking for some people to help out for awhile longer. This was brought up on Thursday which, if you are familiar with calendars you may be able to figure out was just one day before the end. It was at like 3pm the day before the end. Not the best prior planning in the world.

Anyway, some of the helping is for our Dallas office and our San Francisco office. At first I thought this helping out was going to involve going for a little venture to SF, but as it turns out I will just be helping from Jersey City. Not quite as fun or exciting. But nevertheless, I'm still employed. Until the end of May unless I find something new in the meantime or I freak out and quit.

So, that's really all I need to say about that. Just thought I would let you know that I'm not a leech on the neck of society yet.

Yet.

Celebrate With Liver Damage and Murdered Brain Cells

2007-03-30T15:06:00.000-04:00

So last night was our last hurrah for work. One more night of boozing before we all go our separate ways. It was enough of a hurrah that my original plan of going out Thursday and Friday was pretty much crapped on. Those of us who worked in the morning were a little too spent to do a second round at 1pm on Friday. Although, I'm sure if we got a beer in hand we would have been off to the races again, the thought of that first one just crushed our motivation. Let's review the evening and the day after went, shall we? It went something like this ...

Work, class, bar, drinking, coloring, drinking, yelling, drinking, hugs, dismantling a trophy, laughing, drinking, posing for photos, drinking, cab ride, bed.

The drinking began around 9pm. The bed was hit at 4am. My alarm goes off at 5:15am. You can probably see how this day was not one of my best.

My alarm was going off forever apparently. Eventually my wife gets up, and wakes me up. I'm late as hell and definitely still drunk. No doubt about it. I take a shower (which mostly involved staring at the floor of the tub with the water falling on me and not making me feel better in the slightest).

After getting dressed, I grab my skateboard and head for the door. I get this from my wife:

You might want to wear some sunglasses today, champ.
Why?
Have you seen yourself?

Off I went sans sunglasses.

I get to work about 50 minutes late. Late, but I still managed to beat a good number of my co-workers ('cause I'm fucking great!)

My lateness prompts some understanding giggles from those who are there. And me too.

A co-worker who was not out with us comes in awhile later. She says:

You look like you had a late night.

I guess I really am looking shitty.

Just to confirm, a few hours later Kevin comes in and as he flies by on the way to his seat spits:

Did WJR even sleep?

Jesus. I'm a ~~mess~~ rockstar.

In a related note to the end of an employment era, my friend Todd throws a little zinger my way. If nothing else, it sounds like some sort of challenge to prove that we still have it. Who's down with a little reputation redemption?

Todd: how's the head
me: Not as bad as it should be. My stomach isn't doing so hot though.
And my brain isn't really working.
Todd: nothing worse than an irritated stomach
was it ever?
what's your plan for the afternoon
me: Nothing planned.
Todd: no 1:00pm drunk fest?
me: I don't think so. Only the morning people are coming in and I don't think anyone is really too excited about booze right now.
Maybe just some couch time instead.
Rest up for tomorrow.
Todd: now i know why they are closing that place down... that PRN crew just ain't what it use to be.

Jump Around

2007-03-25T15:26:00.000-04:00

I've had some pretty dumb hair in my 33+ years on this earth. Some might say I still do. In any case, I stumbled across this old photo yesterday and could only wonder what the fuck was possibly going on here (if you click on the photo you can get a closer view of the disaster):
I wasn't even sure if that was my hair until I was able to lighten up the image. I thought maybe a plant was behind me. Nope, it's my hair.

Beyond the hair, what the hell was I doing other than getting really excited about finger guns? Finger guns and jumping in the air with them locked and loaded. Although it seems to have my friend Jay rather frozen with fear, so maybe they looked realistic at the time.

I have no recollection of this particular party or this photo, but I'm presuming it was around this point that things started to get out of control. That poor, poor house. If my parents only knew half of what went on there.

At Least I'll Look Good

2007-03-24T17:41:00.000-04:00

Being forever an optimist (yeah right) I'm anticipating a new job (or at least some interviews) so I went out today and bought three suits, three shirts and three ties. Credit card says "thank you" and bank account says "ouch."

Now I better get a fucking job that requires some gettin' fancy or you may find me lookin' fancy for no reason at all. Out at bars, jogging, going to concerts, etc. Or I may very well wind up the best dressed homeless guy you've ever seen, sleeping on a bench in the East River Park.

We'll see.

Head First

2007-03-24T11:05:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure if this is a trait that I should be proud of or embarrassed of or at least grown out of, but yesterday I was e-mailing with a friend of mine who now lives in Seattle and I asked her how she was liking it and this is what I get:

I love Seattle. You should come visit! Lots of great dive bars. :)

"Lots of great dive bars." Jesus. Is that what lures me to visit a city? Yes. I guess it actually is.

I'm so easy to please and so fucking predictable. Nobody sells a place to me with "Lots of great clubs" or "Lots of fine eateries" or "Lots of museums." She hit the nail on the head with what entices me -- dive bars. That's what I like to judge places on. Sad or perfectly sensible? I'm not really sure.

I Think We're Beautiful

2007-03-23T17:46:00.000-04:00

I love the intro to this video. "You and me in a world that stinks." Classic:

Totally Lacking

2007-03-23T17:18:00.000-04:00

I don't really have much to offer, but I've had some complaints about my slacking (some even from me). So in an attempt to please, I guess I'll share the big news on my end which is that I only have one more week or work left. As I mentioned briefly a couple of times, my office is getting packed up and moving. I've opted to not move, so as of right now, I've got five days of work left and then it's into the unfamiliar world of unemployment. Five days!! Slightly scary. Slightly exciting. Either way, the countdown is on.

That said, the tail end of next week has all the ingredients for a good ol' fashioned bender. And who doesn't like that? There are plans for boozing Thursday night (which should feel real nice on my final day of getting up at 5:15am) and there is also talk of a part II on Friday. I have a bachelor party on Saturday and then Sunday (or maybe Monday depending on my liver's status) I'm heading upstate to hang with my 'rents as it is my father's big 75th birthday. I don't know if that part is really part of the bender, but you never know. Maybe my father will be all about kegstands, strippers and robbing banks on his 75th. We'll have to wait and see.

Anyway, that's really all. Hopefully these little calendar bookings will turn into a legitimate post or better yet, maybe I'll have something before then.

Happy weekend, everybody.

McLetdown

2007-03-17T23:17:00.000-04:00

One St. Patrick's Day ritual I used to like to enjoy, even before I introduced boozing into my ritualistic was, was the McDonald's Shamrock Shake. A frozen treat with a mysterious green color that has the funky taste of mint and mulched up leprechauns. So festive!

I used to get one every year around this time just for the sake of tradition. I don't think I really even like them to be honest. At some point (and I wish I could remember who turned me on to this) someone taught me a delicious, little trick of mixing a standard chocolate shake with the Shamrock, making a minty, chocolatey mashup. Sometimes the McDonald's server wasn't really down with the mixing, but they were easily swayed. Delicious!

Anyway, at some point in college I went to get a Shamrock Shake from my local Mickey D's and they didn't have any. I went to another. They didn't have any. Worst. St. Patrick's. Ever. I went home, busted out the phone book and started calling McDonald's one by one. Eventually I found one but it required quite a drive. After that year, my ambition wavered a bit, and when I couldn't find a shake at my local option I'd give up.

Well, this year I was craving to get back on the tradition wagon. I figured with all the McDonald's scattered in NYC I should be fine. I checked out a couple with no reward. Then I see this article telling how they just don't exist in the New York Metropolitan area. Bullshit.

Despite this article, I decided to take a chance with the McDonald's on Grove Street in Jersey City. I called ahead since the weather was crappy and it is a decent walk to get there.

Me: Hi. Do you have Shamrock Shakes.
McD's: Yes.
Me: Great.

I'm living large!

I get my jacket on and walk out there. The exchange in person was a little different than it was over the phone.

Me: Could I have a Shamrock Shake?
McD's lady: [Blank stare]
Me: Do you have Shamrock Shakes?
McD's lady: We have shakes.
Me: Yeah, I know that, but do you have Shamrock Shakes?
McD's lady: [Confused look]
Me: They're for St. Patrick's Day? They are green? They taste like mint?
McD's lady: We have banana shakes.
Me: What? Banana? No. That's not right.
McD's lady: We have vanilla, chocolate, strawberry and banana.
Me: Thanks anyway.

Fuckin' A that's annoying! What is the problem!? Get some mint up in this town!

Help Us, Al Gore!

2007-03-16T23:37:00.001-04:00

Is it my imagination, or was I outside two days ago wearing jeans and a T-shirt?

68 degrees and sun on Wednesday to 28 degrees and snow on Friday? Seems like a bit much.

Always An Idiot

2007-03-16T14:25:00.000-04:00

So, as stated a few posts ago, things have been a little hectic 'round here as of late. Mostly in my head, but I'll give you the rundown of frenzy. It will probably bore you, but that's tough shit.

A few months ago a friend of mine mentioned going on his annual trip to Whistler, British Columbia. The previous year I had been invited, but couldn't go for whatever reason. This year I didn't plan on going either as I was soon to be unemployed and I was also taking a class at NYU. On Saturday, February 24th, in anticipation of some good stories I text my friend to ask if he had been yet.

He texts back: Next week. Getting there on 03/03.
I say: Shit. I should have invited myself. I could use a break from work before it is all over.
He says: Do it.

I think, hmmm, that would be nice, but I'm not convinced I should do it.

I think. I discuss with the wife. I think some more.

I can't get there on Saturday, as they are, because I have already committed to the Vertical Challenge upstate, but I decide I could, at least in theory go up after that if I want to torture myself -- trip upstate, 24 hours straight of snowboarding, back to NYC, sleep, wake up get on plane. Skip work, skip class, run myself ragged ... walking that fine line between brilliance and insanity. Yes!

I then speak with my friend the following day. He confirms that it is cool with the rest of the crew going and even though it is last minute I should check out flights.

That night I get online. I find a flight for a little over $400. I likes.

I do a little more thinking overnight. I sleep on it as they say.

I wake up Monday with a decision to do this thing. I get to work and go to book it. The price of the flight has gone up. A lot. I won't be deterred as I now have vacation on the mind. I find another flight. This one's not direct, but whatever. I'm on a fucking mission. I book my flight -- Monday morning, NYC to Dallas to Vancouver and then the return is Vancouver to Seattle to NYC. Easy fo sheezy. So, I'm thinking all is cool, feeling that happy, "I'm goin' away" feeling.

That night I figure I should dig out some of my shit that is mandatory for this trip. My snowboarding shit, my camera, my passport, my flight information, etc. After some searching I eventually find my passport. I throw it on the table. Then I happen to browse through it, checking out my various stamps from here and there for a little reminiscing and then, the horror! My passport expires on Tuesday -- one day after my arrival in Canada. That's not good. I panic.

I get online. A passport is definitely needed. Fuck.

I start trying to figure out how to get me a passport. Fast. Use someone else's? Alter mine? Walk across the border somewhere in Montana? I've seen Fahrenheit 9/11. I know there is only like one guy that patrols the whole middle of nowhere section of the border. Fuck.

After about a million calls to the passport people. Well, the automated passport people anyway. I get nowhere. I give up that night and decide to call in the morning. (That phone system sucks balls. I'm not even going to get into it, but believe me. It's the worst.)

Early Tuesday morning I finally reach a human. There is an office in NYC that can make a passport on the spot. When's the next time I can get in? March 14. Four days after I return. That's not going to work. There's no talking my way in, no walkup-squeeze-you-in service, no nothin'. I decide I should try the local post office to see if they can do anything.

I get myself a photo, fill out all the paperwork and go to the post office right when the passport window opens on Wednesday on a break from work to see if they knew of any way out of my predicament. The woman at the Jersey City USPS was surprisingly nice. And helpful, or at least understanding. She couldn't really do anything for me, but suggested I try the office in Philly. Good thinking, lady! I tried to get an appointment at the Philly office that does the on the spot passport renewals, figuring if I could get in I would bus down, get my passport and be golden. No luck there either. The earliest day I could get there was March 12. Damn all these last second A-holes!

At this point I decide this passport thing is a loss. Even though I have my photos and my application filled out, I'm not getting myself a new passport in time for this trip.

I do a little more research and find that getting into Canada shouldn't be a problem, but getting back will be (thanks U.S.A.!). I actually called USAirlines to see what they had to say. It went like this:

USAir lady: [Answering formalities]
Me: "Hi. I'm going to be flying with you on Monday to Canada and then I'll be returning the following Sunday. My passport expires on Tuesday. You think that will be an issue?"
USAir lady: "Well you do need a valid passport to return to the U.S."
Me: "Right, but you don't getting into Canada will be a problem?"
USAir lady: "I don't think so."
Me: "And coming back? What happens without a passport? I'm not going to get thrown in prison am I?"
USAir lady: "No ... I don't think you'll wind up in jail. I just think you'll be delayed."
Me: "Well, if there is no jail involved what's to worry about really? I think I should be fine. Thanks."

Although being delayed doesn't sound horrible, I'm not that interested in sitting in the Vancouver airport with nothing to entertain me so I do a little more research. I find that the passport rule only applies to flying. For some reason you can still get across the border with a birth certificate and photo ID if you drive, walk or boat. I guess terrorists only travel by plane?

I get on the horn again and call Orbitz (just for the record it was a very pleasant experience). After some minor financial adjustments I alter my trip. Now it's NYC to Phoenix to Vancouver and on the return it's just Seattle to NYC. And to get to Seattle I find me a bus. Right from the Vancouver airport to the Seattle airport. Thank you, loophole.

I know that was long. And boring. And unnecessary, but you could have skimmed or skipped it or whatever. This is my shit and I'll babble however I like.

So, the trip up was easy (and might I remind you that a previous trip to Canada did not go smoothly at all). The gal at the Canadian border just asked me some basic questions and I was in. Suckers!

Then it was bus up to Whistler. The bus was pleasant. Great scenery outside, a movie inside, and a free Arson sticker which I put on my board. Whistler itself was fucking awesome. Great snow, breathtaking (really, it made me slightly weak feeling) views, Beirut, some stinky BC weed, cold beer (served in "jugs" not pitchers), bacon, jacuzzi, grilling, many laughs and lots of curling on TV. Almost heaven. There are some photos floating around if you care (check out the Flickr thing in the right column).

On the way home, it was pretty smooth sailing too. Big, dumb stretch SUV (or Stretchcalade as we like to call it) down to Vancouver, bus to Seattle and then on home. Once again, no hassle at the border. The border guy didn't say shit about my expired passport. I had my birth certificate at the ready but didn't even need it. Figures. I'm sure if I flew I would have gotten the pinch. But whatever. Mission accomplished.

So, take a deep breath. You made it through the longest post I have ever done or probably will ever do. And all for a really shitty story. If I happen to go again next year I'll be prepared and eliminate the drama and only share meaningful events. Promise.

Look in the Mirror

2007-03-14T15:13:00.000-04:00

The other day I was reading about how Sheryl Crow dislikes American Idol. Here's a quote from an interview with Ladies Home Journal (just for the record, I wasn't reading Ladies Home Journal, the quote was in an excerpt in the newspaper): "Let's face it, it undermines art in every way and promotes commercialism. I am sad people love it so."

Really Sheryl? Commercialism like your Revlon commercial or the Subaru commercial that was using "Everyday Is A Winding Road" or your fucking GAP commercial? Or maybe the song you did for the movie Cars or the song you did for Tomorrow Never Dies or your appearances on "The Today Show" or "The Late Show" or any of the other commercial as hell appearances you have made? And those are just the ones I can remember. I can only imagine how many things you have done that have "undermined art" if I actually did some research.

Get over yourself, hypocritical clown.

Finally Foxes

2007-03-14T08:46:00.000-04:00

I know it's the NIT and not the big NCAA tournament (where you should have been), but whatever! Nice work, Marist.

Marist 67 - Oklahoma State 64

"A great example of one team that wanted to play, that cared about being in this tournament, and one team that had a few guys that would rather be on spring break." - Oklahoma State coach Sean Sutton

Ouch!

Next up ... North Carolina State on Friday.

Oh, and the ladies? In the real deal NCAA Tournament ... Ohio State on Saturday.

The Only Direction We Flow Is Down

2007-03-13T18:20:00.000-04:00

So, I'm a little behind on the blogging here. It's been a crazy couple of weeks. Some travel, some quick plan making, some passport expiration, more travel, some snow, some booze, some international borders ... I'll get into all that later (maybe).

Part of my traveling brought me through Seattle. Actually just quickly through Seattle proper on a bus (see photo taken through the bus window) and then out to good ol' Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. As I was sitting at Sea-Tac, coming off the high of my week of fun, eating a crappy airport cafe's turkey and roasted red pepper panini, River of Deceit came on my iPod. Staring out the window into the gray, rainy sky of Seattle with this song playing might be top five on my depression list. Jesus. Mix that with a little heroin and other influences and it's no wonder Layne Staley OD'd.

Not So Good With Kids (or Things in General)

2007-03-04T22:50:00.000-05:00

One of the guys I did the Vertical Challenge with has two kids. You'd think knowing this I would be a little less retarded, but alas ...

Right around 9:00 the morning following the Vertical Challenge the phone rings. The phone is old. Probably early 70s if not older, with rotary dial and the loudest fucking ring ever -- especially when it is 12 inches from your face.

The phone rings again.
I pick up. "Hello?"
Little kid: "[incomprehensible babbling]"
*Click* I hang up.

Phone rings.
Me: "What the fuck!?" I pick it up. "Hello?"
Little kid: "Hi Daddy. Hi Daddy. Hi Daddy."
Me: "I'm not your daddy."
Kid: "Blah, blah, dinosaurs. Blah, blah."
Me: "Hey Peewee, you've got the wrong number."
*Click*

I get up to take a piss.

Phone rings.

Friend with the kids laughs.

Other friend: "You want me to get that?"
Me: "Fuck it. Let that kid talk to the answering machine."

More laughter from friend with kids.

I get back in bed.

30 seconds later the phone rings.

Me: "God kids are dumb." Pick it up, "Hello?"
Woman's voice: "Hey, it's E___. M__ wants to speak to his father. You think you could put him on?"
Me: "E___? Shit. I'm an asshole. Hold on a minute. Sorry about that."

More laughter from friend with kid.

Me = idiot.

V-Challenge Recap

2007-03-04T21:11:00.000-05:00

Wisely, myself and the guys making up our Vertical Challenge team went out drinking the night before the event. We didn't stay out too, too late, but Genesee Cream Ale, Busch and a few mixed drinks out in two bars that gave zero shits about the NYS smoking ban doesn't lead to feeling tip-top. We may like snowboarding and are charitable enough to raise money for cancer, but obviously we're not that bright.

I won't bore you with the details of the actual Challenge, but essentially it was snowboarding, eating, drinking, more snowboarding, cursing, more snowboarding, etc. At a point about eight hours into this thing we realized that needed sleep was not going to happen, mostly due to the loud assholes hanging around the lodge. Normally I don't mind the lack of sleep, but we started thinking about the impossibility of safely driving three hours back home the following morning and realized it would be in our best interest to wrap it up early. Our money was already turned in and our three person team wasn't on any sort of impressive path in the most trips down the mountain contest, so no harm done. Beyond the driving issue, our wrapping up early was probably in the best interest of the shitheads next to our area who were well on the path of receiving a punch in the face from me. There had already been a brief debate by our team about taking a dump in one of their sleeping bags so clearly that team was on a path to extinction.

So, with violent tendencies rising and exhaustion running the show, we packed it up after about 14 hours, headed back to our outpost where we squeezed in seven hours of sleep before the ride home. We all agreed to push for longer next year. Maybe.

Thanks to everyone who donated.

You Can't Stop This Mouth

2007-03-02T00:37:00.000-05:00

So NYC has banned the "n" word ... hmmmm.

Two things about that.

First, why are you city council members wasting time conjuring up and voting on something that is strictly symbolic and isn't enforceable? I'm guessing there might be something a little more pressing in this mess of a city.

Second, I don't use the "n" word and I don't normally have a big issue with the government sticking their nose in my shit. Feel free to watch me via cameras on light posts, search my bag when I'm getting on the subway, listen to my phone calls or whatever. I don't care. But telling me what I can and can't say? Here's two words that have yet to be banned ... Fuck. You.

I'm Not A Cannibal

2007-02-25T19:45:00.001-05:00

This probably isn't right to say but every single time I see this photo I think the feet look like candy. Perhaps some chewy, delicious, gummy feet.

In this Oct. 2006 photo provided by Baptist Hospital, a healthcare worker displays the feet of Amillia Sonja Taylor. Taylor was just 9.5 inches (24.13 centimeters) long and weighed less than 10 ounces (284 grams) when she was born Oct. 24. She was delivered after just under 22 weeks of pregnancy; full-term births come after 37 to 40 weeks. Parents of Amillia got to take her home Wednesday, Feb. 21, 2007, for the first time since she was delivered last fall. (AP Photo/Baptist Hospital)

NYC --> CL

2007-02-25T01:01:00.000-05:00

Friday night was a drunken night indeed. Friend and co-worker Alberto is off to Cleveland, OH to continue working (as opposed to me who is opting for something new or unemployment). In celebration of this move there was a big ol' drinkathon since that is what we do best. There were laughs, shots, special guests, hugs, drugs, nearly a fight and everything else you might want in a going away party. There was even a celebrity (not really with us, but who the hell is keeping track?). Peter Greene aka the guy who flicks the cigarette at Stephen Baldwin's face in The Usual Suspects and the guy who humps Ving Rhames in the pooper (who then has Ving get medieval on his ass with a pair of pliers and a blow torch) in Pulp Fiction. Celebrity!

So, good bye to Alberto. Here's my favorite photo of myself and Alberto. We're doing our "You're shocking and disappointing us to the point that we are going to kick your stupid ass" face:

Good luck, fool!

My End

2007-02-21T20:01:00.000-05:00

Over the course of the last few weeks I've been exposed to a prophesy that has me thinking of doom. DOOM I said!!

I don't want to alarm you, but my days may be numbered. Well, I guess all of us could say the same, as dying is inevitable, but I think my days on this earth may be a bit shorter than I anticipated. Why? Dreams. Not even my dreams. This is actually dreams of two co-workers that predict my demise. One co-worker had two dreams about my death and then another just reported that she had a dream about my death too.

Normally I'm not a big believer of dreams predicting the future or anything like that, but when it happens and then happens and then happens again, it starts to infiltrate the ol' noggin a bit. Why people are having dreams about me at all is one thing, but dreams about my death is beyond my comprehension. But, it's not like I have any control over that. Also, it should be noted that the two dreamers are located in different offices and do not really communicate with each other so there was no chance of cross-fertilization of ideas. Anyway, here's the breakdown:

Dream #1 - Apparently this one was suicide or accidental suicide. I messed something up at work and was ultra upset about it (unlikely). As opposed to taking a day off or drowning my misery in booze I decided to actually drown myself. I jumped onto the ice on some frozen body of water, went through the ice and down into my icy water tomb.

Dream #2 - Some sort of horrible car crash. The dreamer isn't sure if I died or was just badly injured. Either way isn't particularly good.

Dream #3 - I was outside my old office and some guy comes up and shoots me in the face. Dead. I asked, and the dreamer said I definitely didn't instigate the shooter. It was just totally random. Also, the shooter was quick enough with the shot and escape that nobody could ID him. Avenge me!! Avennnnge Me!!!!!!!!!!!

So, that is all in the death dream department for now. If any of these events come true please see to it that the dreamers are held in some sort of mystical regard. Maybe they can go talk about it on Larry King or Geraldo or something. After all, I have always been a fan of Geraldo's crazy mustache.

Slayed

2007-02-16T20:59:00.000-05:00

So the Slayer show last night was some kind of insanity. I guess I wouldn't expect anything less, but somehow when you get there the hugeness of the show and the excitement/obsession of the fans always manages to exceed the expectations. Slayer fans are some serious shit.

As I mentioned in my earlier post, I was going solo to the show but as luck would have it I wound up unsolo. I was waiting in the coat check line and look over and see Fran, a guy I know from college. 2,500 people there and I run into someone I know. He too was solo. Well fuck that. We were now a duo.

Coats checked, it was upstairs to browse the shirts and whatnot ($31 for a T-shirt, Slayer? Come on!) and then grab an obligatory drink. The drink turned into two before I knew what happened. Jagermeister and Coors both in plastic cups. What a team.

Fran and I head out onto the floor to enjoy the remaining tunes by Unearth and check out the scene. Once the Unearth ended the Slayer excitement really started to build. Chants of "Slay-er! Slay-er! Slay-er!" would start at random and Slayer reminiscing was running rampant. This show, that show, "awesome shirt, dude." We got in a conversation with two guys at one point who had been to see Slayer up in Poughkeepsie last weekend, were (obviously) seeing them in NYC this very night and then were heading down to DC to catch them on Monday night. Sick! Like Deadheads but with way less mellow and tie-dye and way more metal and black T-shirt.

Before we started talking to these guys, Fran and I were discussing how Slayer fans, despite being fucking lunatics, are a polite, friendly group as a whole. Sounds nuts, but it is true. I heard many more "excuse me" and "sorry" and shit like that during the pre-show crowd than at any other show I have been to. It's like everyone is part of a big, friendly, misunderstood, music-loving cult. As if to solidify our discussion about the niceties, as we wrapped up our chat and moved on to get closer to the stage, one of the multi-city Slayer fans we were speaking with says, "Hey, have fun guys. Be safe." Wha?

Fran and I move our asses up towards the stage. We get so we have only three or four people between us and the stage. The lights go down the crowd starts getting tight. Smushed is probably more accurate. Stage lights on and Slayer rips into "Disciple". Not 10 seconds in and I get elbowed right in the fucking eye. I can see the sort of night this will be. But again with the cultish love ... even during the frenzy of the show there is a constant helping people up who had fallen, blocking the crowd so you can tie your shoe and not get crushed, being courteous and giving a boost to someone who wants to crowd surf, etc. That said, I wound up with the previously mentioned elbow to the eye, the back of someone's head in my upper lip/teeth and a fist right in the bridge of the nose. No blood, no visible bruising (aka "badges of honor" as Fran likes to say).

So the show is nuts and possibly the loudest thing I have ever witnessed. Concert or otherwise. I had earplugs that have a noise reduction rating of 29 decibels and it was still LOUD at some points. It was crazy. Double bass drum, two guitars and bass pounding in rhythm. It would give you that feeling that your chest might cave in from the crushing noise. The hits rolled on -- "Raining Blood," "Die By The Sword," "South of Heaven"/"Silent Scream," "Mandatory Suicide," "Cu lt," "Seasons In The Abyss," Grammy winner "Eyes of The Insane," "Bloodline" ... fucking great.

I tried taking some photos via cell phone. It was a difficult task indeed. Not losing the phone was tough and even if a photo was taken it was usually a blurry mess. Here are the only ones even slightly worth posting. And I use slightly rather lightly:

Tom addressing the crowd

Kerry destroying 5,000 ears

This photo is pretty awful, but I liked the lighting and the blur:

This is getting longer than necessary, so I'll wrap it up I guess. A few additional notes:

Some skanky, red leather-clad gal up on one of the side balconies flashed the crowd before the show. I felt like it was 1993 again.
Somebody in the pit smelled like mothballs. I don't get it. Why? Do you store your classic Slayer T-shirt in mothballs so it will be fresh and moth free for each tour?
Note to guys who are with their girlfriends (or whoever) that are trying to protect them. You are annoying. If they are deliberately throwing their five foot frames in the mix, they probably can hold their own. If they weren't into the thrashing, they'd be on the balcony or in the back.
Hammerstein coat check ... you suck. A complete clusterfuck.
Guys who like to crowd surf. You used to weigh 168 pounds back in the day. Now you weigh 226. Nobody wants that shit on their head.
I saw a guy coming down for the balcony post-show that had two broken arms in slings. Pretty hardcore being out in public at a metal show when you can't even wipe your own ass.

One last thing. After the show (and the nightmare coat check) I go in to use the bathroom. On the wall, in six inch high letters was the word "Slayer" ... written in blood.

Sick!

Fostering What Is True And What Is Decent

2007-02-16T13:01:00.000-05:00

Dear Catholic Church,

Here's something I thought you should know:

People are going to have sex, condoms or not. Your theories and statements are absurd.
Not everyone in this world is Catholic, therefore they don't follow your rules, suggestions or sexual restrictions.
There are some couples (hint: non traditional male/female couples) that (a) the Church won't recognize and (b) aren't allowed to marry even in non-religious settings, so your theory to abstain until marriage doesn't really fit

Please remove your heads from your antiquated asses.

Sincerely,
WJR

PS This opinion has nothing to do with my witnessing of Slayer last night.

Showbound

2007-02-15T19:14:00.000-05:00

Tuesday night I went on a solo journey to see MC Chris at Mercury Lounge. That guy is some funny shit. Sort of a mix of Pee-Wee Herman and well I don't know ... um, ODB? Probably not, but definitely Pee-Wee. Anyway, on his MySpace page under the "Sounds Like" section he has "Sounds Like a smurf having an orgasm" I think that just about sums it up. So the show was good. Funny, full of crowd participation, and lots of rhyming. Here's a photo of MC Chris I took (note the "ATHF is the bomb!" T-shirt): click. I know, I know. A shitty photo. What else is new?

Yesterday was the big V-Day. Nothing exciting to report there. The wife and I are pretty fed up with dealing with the formalities of the day so we did our best to make as if it wasn't even happening. Again, what else is new?

Tonight ... actually just an hour or so from now I'll be going on another solo mission, but this time to see Slayer with openers Unearth. It should be retarded. Not many old school metal bands continue to stand, but Slayer keeps on going. When bands like that come around the old school metal heads (the guys who you were afraid of in high school) come out of hiding. Leather jackets, ripped jeans, Camels, gnarly mustaches and a lot of throwing up the horns. It should be great. Even if I didn't like Slayer's music (which I do), they always bring out a crowd that is worth the cost of admission. Alright, I gotta go get my back ready for the show ...

Hand It Over

2007-02-13T10:40:00.000-05:00

The first weekend in March some friends and I are participating in the Vertical Challenge at Greek Peak up in Cortland, NY. It's 24 hours of skiing/snowboarding to benefit the American Cancer Society. 24 hours of up and down the mountain should make for a lot of falls, a lot of laughs, maybe some crying and definitely some sore legs, but hopefully in the end it will also help fight cancer.

If you would like to donate some of your hard earned money to Team Porkoholics it would be much appreciated and you can do that good deed here. (our team page is a work in progress so get off my back). You smokers should definitely think about this as it's your nasty, black lungs I'm trying to save.

Thanks everybody!

Oh! Also, we may still have some room on Team Porkoholics if you are interested. If you have the urge to join such an elite group, please contact me. If you are qualified and you can pass the stringent Porkoholic's review board, you are in!

24 hours of skiing/snowboarding -- American Cancer Society Vertical Challenge

Greek Peak Mountain Resort

March 3-4, 2007

Liquid Heat

2007-02-12T11:28:00.000-05:00

So I was walking around for a good chunk of time the other day, generally freezing my ass off and got the craving for something warm. Coffee? Hells no. I'm not a coffee drinker. I don't like it. I don't even like coffee flavored ice cream. Tea? Eh, I can make that at home and by the time I get there I'll be warmed by a little something called heat so the moment will have passed.

I spy a Dunkin Donuts and due to being choked to death by advertising I think, "Yes. White Hot Chocolate. I'll try that." Let me tell you how delicious. It tastes like vanilla frosting. Vanilla frosting that not only rots your teeth and makes you fat like regular frosting, but also warms your innards too. Scrape the frosting off a birthday cake, heat it up and put it into a cup. Fucking good ... at least to my juvenile taste buds.

It seems to be far from good for your health, so if you get one, make sure you have burning off calories and intend to continue to do so or you'll look like "Weird Al" Yankovic in the "Fat" video before you even finish the cup.

And on a side note, shouldn't they call it Hot White Chocolate instead of White Hot Chocolate? I feel like White Hot Chocolate could be regular hot chocolate that is just so fucking hot it is beyond hot. "Shit, this hot chocolate is beyond hot. It's white hot!" Just a thought.

No More Awards For Me

2007-02-11T22:03:00.000-05:00

When will I learn to just not even try to watch award shows?

I find myself much more of a music person than I am a movie person or television person, so I don't really get surprised when I can't deal with the Oscars, and I am smart enough to know I want nothing to do with Emmys, but I've tried watching the Grammy Awards tonight ... it sucks balls! Every year I have to realize this all over again. Well, I have once again have realized it and I will not do it again. This was it. What a waste of time. P fucking U.

Another Round

2007-02-10T12:11:00.000-05:00

Alright. I'm back.

After focusing on some soul searching, therapy, socializing, exercising, job hunting, cursing (even more than usual), sleeping, and other such activities, I guess I will give this blogging business another try.

Thanks for the support, sass and threats from the handful of you who actually read this garbage. I just hope I can now live up to whatever expectations you may have. Such a buildup for the return and all you get is my blah, blah, blah. Well, I guess you get what you pay for, cheapasses.

Taking A Break

2007-01-08T13:41:00.000-05:00

Not that I have been a blogging machine or anything like that, but I just thought I would officially announce that this blog is on hiatus. At least for awhile.

That is all.

Are You Mocking Me?

2007-01-05T23:27:00.000-05:00

You may or may not know that I am a sucker for covers. Most covers anyway. I prefer them to be sort of fun thing for the band to do that entertains me. Maybe something for the encore at a concert or a bonus track on an album or something whipped up for a movie soundtrack. Whatever really. But, I think it is a little corny when say, Limp Bizkit did that cover of Faith. Don't get me wrong, it was a cool idea to do that cover, and God knows it was catchy, but it was corny to make it the single that essentially introduced the band to the world. Anywho, now that I've said all that (for pretty much zero reason), I just wanted to share this particular cover that I stumbled across that I find pretty amusing: video

(I tried to embed this video, but it wasn't working, so you're going to have to deal with this unsexy clicking. Also, even though it says that the artist is Rise Against on the side there, it's not. It's Cobra Starship.)

They're Not Playing Grab-Ass Anymore

2007-01-02T18:25:00.000-05:00

About a minute into this video this Kodak guy gets ranting pretty nicely:

When selling something, you just can't beat going the crazy route as far as I'm concerned. Besides the crazy/funny, I'm glad to see Kodak seems to have a plan to get back in the game. Keep upstate NY and the good ol' U.S. of A. in the thick of things!

Back To A Clean Slate

2007-01-01T17:48:00.000-05:00

So today is a new year. Two thousand and seven! How unexciting.

Last night I did something different for my kicking the old year out and welcoming the new year in routine. I did a 4 mile run in Central Park. Not just by myself. I'm not that much of a loser. I did this. Myself, my wife, three other friends and 5,000 other idiots starting the year off with healthy style. I was concerned that it might have been yet another mistake to add to my list of 2006 retarded moves or a poor, unfestive start to 2007, but when I woke up this morning with some slightly sore legs instead of a headache and cottonmouth, I realized I may have done myself a pretty sweet service. It was fun and wacky and certainly the healthiest thing I have ever done on January 1.

I was trying to recap my previous New Year's activities (it's a tad blurry) and I think this may be the first December 31 to January 1 transition where I haven't been at least drunk, if not completely shitty in 16 years. That figuure makes me feel (a) gross and unhealthy and (b) old.

[In the name of full disclosure, I did have four beers throughout the night, but I don't think that messed with my wits at all.]

Anywho, it's now a new year, so drunk or not, I hope all of you had a nice evening and will have a kickass '07. Leave the stupid bullshit from '06 behind and start fresh. This means you! (and me too). Try my resolution if you'd like. It's this: Don't be an asshole. Word on the street is that this is doomed to fail, but I don't like that street's negativity. Not one bit.

The Year in Tunes

2006-12-30T16:40:00.000-05:00

No year is complete without some sort of "top [insert number here]" list. I figure I should follow the rules so I give you my top 10 albums of 2006 (in no particular order):

Peeping Tom - Peeping Tom
Trivium - The Crusade
Basement Jaxx - Crazy Itch Radio
Rise Against - The Sufferer & The Witness
Gym Class Heroes - As Cruel As School Children
Slayer - Christ Illusion
Swollen Members - Black Magic
MC Chris - Dungeon Master of Ceremonies
Robert Randolph & The Family Band - Colorblind
Europe - Secret Society

Check 'em out.

As Long As You Are In The Spending Mood

2006-12-28T19:02:00.000-05:00

I was just reading an article in The Village Voice about the folks at Google opening a new office in NYC. The whole thing is pretty interesting (you can check it out here), but the part that really got me was this:

"Based on conservative real estate industry estimates of the building's asking price -- about $33 per square foot -- Google will likely pay at least $10 million per year in rent ... "

$10 million per year ... Yikes!

Um, Google? I'm not sure if you are aware of this or not, but I am going to be out of a job as of March 30. So if you are going to be throwing that kind of money around perhaps you could get me involved? I live close, I'd cost you way less than $10 million a year and I am a dedicated worker. I look forward to hearing from you (my e-mail is near the top of the column to the right). Thanks.

Toll Fun

2006-12-28T10:42:00.000-05:00

I really enjoy this little comedic prank: http://www.zug.com/pranks/turnpike/

IOUs, a photo of a guy flipping off the prankster, 50 Cent stickers, citrus, foreign currency and Mariah Carey ... apparently, that's a great recipe for making me laugh.

Family Time

2006-12-26T18:43:00.000-05:00

So, I was upstate this past weekend for some Christmasy family time. It was the usual routine ... a lot of blah, blah, blah by my mother, too much unhealthy food in my gut and talkin' sports and my career unknowns with my dad. Some memorable moments:

I got up to my parent's house Friday night. I have to wake up sort of early (at least by my weekend standards) on Saturday to pick my wife up at the train station. I didn't bother setting an alarm, but conveniently my father wakes me up. In the years since I've been away from home his ability to hand out a heart attack has not wavered. My wake up was like this, "Bill! Do you know what time it is?!" I'm in a deep sleep, no idea where I am or what day it is and I can guarantee I don't know what time it is but it certainly sounds like I am late for something (I wasn't).

My Uncle discussing before dinner his dislike for his cousin's son (I guess he doesn't really work or attempt to work): "So I tell him, 'Look, your son is a loser.'"

My Aunt, a former fan of Rachael Ray, who unbeknownst to me has done a 180 since we last spoke: "She's on all the time. All the time. And she's gotten more and more annoying. That fake laugh, the way she hams it up for the camera and God, has she gotten FAT!"

Driving back from the mall I pull onto the highway and immediately have some chubby, frog-like woman in a minivan box us into an "exit only" lane. After I mumble some insults and threats I manage to get around her only to notice my father who is riding in the backseat giving her the finger. It's not just the finger either, it's a violent gesture like he might be trying to jam it up her ass. All about the holiday spirit in my family.

On the train ride back to New York City I saw a murder. A murder of crows that is. Just south of Poughkeepsie. Shitloads of crows. If not for my protective metal and glass cocoon, it would have been a little unnerving.

Just The Way Baby Jesus Likes It

2006-12-24T18:34:00.000-05:00

Enjoy your Christmas everyone ...

... even if you don't really celebrate it.

Somethin' Ain't Right

2006-12-22T11:52:00.000-05:00

Dear Amtrak,

I have an issue with you. Many issues actually, but I'll just focus on two for now. Think something looks screwy when you compare these two trips? One is my trip to Chicago a couple weeks ago and one is my upcoming trip to Albany, NY. Take a look. See anything odd?:

American Airlines
New York --> Chicago, IL --> New York, NY
Round-trip stats: 4 hours, 45 minutes - 1,440 miles
$139.60

Amtrak
New York, NY --> Albany, NY --> New York, NY
Round-trip stats: 4 hours, 55 minutes - 284 miles
$121.00

Screwy issue #1: A flight, which involves jet fuel, free snacks/drinks and little air nozzles for personal climate control only costs $18.60 more than rumbling up the banks of the Hudson? Jesus. AND you're subsidized by the government. Why so expensive?

Screwy issue #2: The train up to Albany takes 10 minutes longer (in the event that the train is actually on time) than a flight to Chicago? I know planes go faster than trains, but the train is not being used to its full potential. Fix the tracks, upgrade your engines/cars and let's move!

Despite my irritation, you'll see me later today. Don't make it any worse than it already is.

Sincerely,
WJR

Moms ... Always Jumping To Conclusions

2006-12-21T13:42:00.000-05:00

So Mothers Against Drunk Driving decided to cut ties with Miss Teen USA Katie Blair thanks to allegations of hard partying (whatever that means). Isn't MADD getting a bit out of control cutting ties with Miss Teen USA? They aren't Mothers Against Underage Drinking, they're Mothers Against Drunk Driving! I see that there are statistics on MADD's web site about underage drinking being a big cause of accidents/deaths, but isn't an underage Miss Teen USA setting a good example if she drinks (as many, many teens do) but does not drive?

Perhaps the decision makers at MADD just don't remember what it was like to be young (and/or hot).

Stocking (and shirt) Stuffer

2006-12-21T10:06:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite press release headlines of 2006:

Dr. Stephen T. Greenberg Says It's Going to Be a Cosmetic Christmas As Many Patients Are Saying 'All I Want for Christmas Are My Two ... New Breasts!!'

Dear Santa,

I've been really Effin' good this year therefore I'd like the following:

A pony
T.M.X. Elmo
new breasts
Xbox 360

Thanks. I'll leave some cookies out for you.

Stay Warm,
WJR

Put Your Junk In The Box

2006-12-20T19:10:00.000-05:00

Just a few short shopping days until you need to get something under that tree. How about a gift that keeps on giving? Watch and listen carefully to this video and you'll see that in just three easy steps you've got yourself a present worthy of masterpiece status: click here

Perhaps you've seen this already. Perhaps even numerous times. I don't care. It makes me laugh and I don't see any reason to not have it at my fingertips at all times.

FYI - please do not try to give me your dick in a box. Thanks.

You Can't Stop It

2006-12-15T23:21:00.000-05:00

Venezuelan Leader Says Castro Not Dying

Um, not to be Mr. Negative or anything Chavez, but I'll let you in on a little secret. We're all dying. We're all sloooowly dying. Me. You. Even Castro. Just a little something to think about.

P.S. Castro is closer to death than most of us.

Two In A Row Is Enough

2006-12-15T18:43:00.000-05:00

The other night I caught Gwen Stefani on Letterman doing Wind It Up and then last night I was in a bar and her video for the same song came on.

Is it bad? No.

Is it catchy (yet slightly annoying) and is she easy on the eyes? Sure. But ...

But?

Yeah. But. There's always that. My but is that I'd like some No Doubt back. Am I a huge fan that can't live without them? Not even. I just prefer Gwen rockin' that, rather than doing this other stuff. Two solo albums in a row ... sure it's a nice creative outlet and it's a chance for her to be all independent and dress how she wants and synchronize a bunch of Japanese girls in wigs, but what about my ears? I'd like some No Doubt. That's all.

It's just a request.

Chicago Recap

2006-12-12T11:41:00.000-05:00

In case you were wondering, I survived my venture to Chicago. My second time there and my second time enjoying it. I wouldn't mind living there one bit. There wasn't any groundbreaking events to report, but here's a brief rundown of the happenings:

Arrived Thursday. It was fucking cold. Low double digits, with wind that was making it pretty much miserable. I decided to not be a pussy and get out there anyway.

I headed to the Shedd Aquarium. I briefly thought art museum, but then realized my attention span is about the same as a housefly, so I figured fish and lizards might be a better bet than art. I had a cool photo of a California moray, but I think I may have sent that from my phone to a stranger in a bar at some point in a Bluetooth experiment. I do have this one of some jellyfish though:
While snapping this photo I heard a little kid ask a question, "Why are they called jellyfish? You can't eat them, can you?" If only there was an open top. I would have slapped one of those things on toast and handed it over to him for a delicious afternoon snack.

I also got a shot of the dolphin tank that overlooks mighty Lake Michigan (I'm guessing just to tease those bottle-nosed perverts with a view of freedom):

Thursday night was out to The Dark Horse for some eats and Steelers watching. The Steelers fans and bar workers (also Steelers fans) were pretty nuts. If someone had knocked me out and I woke up in The Dark Horse I would have no problem believing that I was in Pittsburgh. There was a lot of yelling, chanting, dancing and drinking in the name of the Steelers. Despite my being a Steelers fan, I pretty much spent my time focused on my burger, wings and $3 Guinness pints.

Friday morning I woke up to a pleasant offer from Todd, my host's roommate. Pancakes. There was also bacon. Todd, myself and Todd's lady friend discussed how much bacon should be made, and we opted for the entire one pound package. Although there was some talk of saving the leftovers for BLTs or whatever, we ate the whole pound. The three of us are now forever bonded in salty pork. Bacon bonds can never be broken. That's a fact.

Post breakfast, after some digestion time (which included running) I hit the town. First stop was Mr. Beef. You can tell it is going to be good just by looking at the outside:

Beef, peppers, celery and beef juices ... simple, old school and delicious:

Despite the obvious potential for shitting my pants after all that healthy eatin' I ventured on to my next stop, The John Hancock building observatory. I did a lot of looking out windows and cursing annoying French tourists under my breath. Here's me keepin' it real 1,000 feet above the Chicago streets:

From there, it was out for some happy hour at various places around Wrigleyville with former co-worker ACG until it was time to meet up with my host and comedy writer, Matt at his latest show at Second City (there are three more chances to catch it Two Thousand and Sux, so get on it). Post show was a stop at the Old Town Ale House. $8 pitchers of Old Style and a jazz only jukebox. 'Nuff said.

Saturday was a bit lazy in the morning, but some brunch from Kitsch'n got the ball rollin'. There was a little shopping, a little TV watchin' and a jog, but once the sun went down, it was time for a chili cook-off that one of the guys from the Two Thousand and Sux show was hosting. Nine chili entries for the tasting and voting and lots of ridiculous discussions such as: aquarium mammals and their genitals, vegetarian chili being "total bullshit," U.S./Canada relations, wearing beer stained clothing, fag hags, chili voting fraud, Rice Crispy treats - greatest dessert ever? and much more.

After the chili voting was done and awards were handed out (I am protesting the results) and further socializing was accomplished, we were off to continue the night. Stops at the fancy Hop Leaf, the less fancy Simon's Tavern for some Glogg and the not fancy at all, Carol's Pub. That was more than enough.

Sunday was breakfast and then some football (American and otherwise) watching until it was time to get back to the airport.

A little tired and slightly lacking in health, but overall I think it is mission accomplished.

Seize Your Opportunities

2006-12-11T17:52:00.000-05:00

Dear Oscar,

Next time you have an opportunity like this, please slam the lid down and ship that can off to a garbage barge heading for deep ocean waters.

Thanks in advance.

Sincerely,
WJR

Sell Out for J.C. in J.C.

2006-12-06T08:45:00.000-05:00

Seen Yesterday in Jersey City:

Chilly Willy

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

November was so full of freakishly warm days that I seriously started thinking of where I could buy property now that would eventually turn into oceanfront property once the polar ice caps melt. Before I had all that figured out, yesterday came along and WHAM! it's cold. No easing into this winter I guess.

A certain negative on the winter weather is being outside, getting cold and then needing a visit to the bathroom. Come inside, head for the bathroom ... warm genitals do not like cold hands.

At all.

Adding To The Unnecessary

2006-12-05T13:49:00.000-05:00

I'm a little confused as to why anyone gives a shit about this whole Gwyneth Paltrow thing.

Maybe she was misquoted. Maybe not. Either way, I really don't care what Gwyneth Paltrow thinks or what Gwyneth Paltrow says or what Gwyneth Paltrow does. I'm not sure why anyone does. She named her kid Apple for Christ's sake. You think she gives a shit about what anyone thinks?

I'm not a big fan of people saying nasty things about where they are from since if you don't like where you are you can go somewhere else, but does this need to be a major news story?

A more important question I guess would be why am I even addressing this? I really have no idea.

Now I'm Ready For Month Twelve

2006-11-30T19:41:00.000-05:00

Whenever I am out of the apartment or lying in bed or showering or whatever else it is I do, I always think of shit to blog about, but then I either (a) say "fuck it, it will never be written well enough to be as intriguing a story as it was when it was in my head" or (b) forget what the hell I had been thinking of or (c) just feel too lazy.

They always say "finish strong" and it's now the last day of November so I feel like I need to add something on this piece of shit. So, here we go ...

I've actually had a decent week of shit to talk about, but see (c) above for the lack of writing about that. In short, here is the recap:

(1) I went out on Tuesday to see Toole off to Cleveland* properly. By properly, I mean $1 mugs of Bud Light, mocking "We Didn't Start The Fire" (the "cola wars" part was really the catalyst), screaming a lot, shooting virtual deer and cursing the PATH. There wasn't a lot of sleep that night and I probably would have been better off going to the psych ward rather than work the following day.

*I really hope Toole dances and runs around like a fucking psychotic Drew Carey when he gets out of work. He never did in NY/NJ, but I think Cleveland may change him.

(2) Wednesday night I went to see Hamell on Trial. I don't know how many fucking times I have to say it, but I guess I'll do it again: Go see Hamell. You won't be sorry.

(3) Today I had off from work. I wound up helping a former co-worker move her crap out of her apartment as she is off to live upstate.

Productive, No?

I also booked myself a trip. Next Thursday, I'm heading for Chicago for a long weekend that will probably be an extended version of (1) above, but instead of Bud Light it will be Old Style and there will be no PATH train or Toole. Last time I was in Chicago, things were a little messy in more ways than one. I can't wait.

There. That was good. You may now enter, December. Welcome.

Have Fun Being Solo, Little France

2006-11-27T22:46:00.000-05:00

Dear Canadians,

Go ahead and let those Quebecer fucks cut out and make their own country. Face it, you hate them just as much as I do (at least every Canadian I've ever met has). They bring your whole nation down. They give you normal Canadians a bad name. Let them be free. I promise to visit Canada -- real Canada -- and never set foot in their snooty "country."

So you lose out on some mountains and maybe some beer, but there are plenty of other non-Quebec options around your great land. Plus, if you really need to, we can always do a little search for "weapons of mass destruction" and the place will be all yours once again.

Sincerely,
WJR

PS I'm willing to give up Voivod and Men Without Hats in exchange for keeping Celine Dion and Simple Plan locked in the new nation -- physically and aurally. Deal? Deal.

See You Soon, Turkey

2006-11-24T09:19:00.000-05:00

On this special day where we all gather around our annoying family and eat until we feel like we'd be better off dead, I thought it would be nice to post something turkey related.

There's probably no better way then with some lines from "Into The Oven" by everyone's favorite band, Anal Cunt:

"First you lived on a farm.
Then you got your head cut off.
Then I bought you in a grocery store.
Pretty soon you'll be on my plate.
Into the oven.
Into the oven.
I'm gonna eat you for Thanksgiving."

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Cord Says Winter

2006-11-20T18:03:00.000-05:00

I have a brief iPod-related rant here. I know Lozo is already losing his shit at the mere thought of such a thing, but just hang tough*, Lozo. It's not going to be that crazy. I'm not a huge iPod freak to begin with. I only have a shuffle, so I'm not hauling around every album I own or feel as though I'd die without my iPod or any such shit. My thought process for iPod use pretty much involves jamming my iPod in a USB port, hitting Autofill button, letting it fill and then walking out the door. I get a random sampling of the retarded crap I stockpile for convenient listening on the PATH or if I feel like increasing my odds of death, while I skateboard home from work.

Anyway, my rant isn't really about the iPod itself, the awesome songs I may or may not have heard, the iPod's role in society or anything like that. I wanted to bring up the way the cord for the headphones gets so stiff and annoying when it gets cold. Today was the first day I really dealt with it this year. The viscosity (if that is even correct terminology with cords or even solids in general) gets all out of wack, and out of wack with the quickness. The cord is all stiff and sticking out all strange and it is impossible to get under control until warmth is restored. It really drives me nuts.

That's really all. I don't really have some sort of awesome conclusion to all this. I just thought I'd mention it.

*I'm sure some of you were hoping for Hangin' Tough rather than Hang Tough. Now everybody is happy.

Somethin' Wrong With a Little Bump and Grind?

2006-11-17T20:08:00.000-05:00

Ahh, school dances ... so dramatic. So controversial. It's always something with the kids and their hormones vs. the adults and their judging. Parents (and teachers) just don't understand!

The headline for this news really should be "Rebecca Watson's Popularity On The Upswing At Fayetteville-Manlius."

No Grinding for You! Upstate School Cancels H.S. Dance

MANLIUS, N.Y. -- Administrators in a suburban upstate New York school district have canceled a high school dance over concerns about students "grinding," a sexually suggestive dance style.

"Grinding to its extreme is pornographic," said Fayetteville-Manlius High School Principal James Chupaila. "Kids say this is how they dance at a club or on MTV. But this is a school event, and we have a responsibility to monitor these things. It's just inappropriate for a school setting."

Administrators canceled a Dec. 2 dance because of students "grinding" at the Homecoming Dance in October, which was so persistent that officials ended the dance early, Chupaila said.

The suburban Syracuse district is banning grinding at all future dances, Chupaila said. The next dance, in February, will be combined with an "activity night," with alternatives such as volleyball and badminton offered, he said.

Dirty dancing isn't particularly new, but school officials have been paying more attention as it becomes more explicit and popular with the mainstreaming of rap and hip hop music with suggestive lyrics and videos. Schools in Maine, New Hampshire and Montana this year outlawed the dance style so that dances could go on.

At Fayetteville-Manlius, parents were upset and some students complained about "inappropriate grabbing or touching" on the dance floor, Chupaila said.

Some students objected to the ban.

Sophomore Abby Damanski, 15, said kids won't attend the dances, which raise money for class events, if there are restrictions.

Junior Rebecca Watson said the dance style replaces slow dancing, which is no longer popular.

"Your clothes are on, so I don't see the problem," she said.

---

Speaking of Parents Just Don't Understand, what the fuck is this ?

Straight Shooter

2006-11-14T22:50:00.000-05:00

I was checking out the most popular news stories/photos on Yahoo! and oddly this photo caught my eye:
The caption alerts me to the name of Katie Price. I thought, "Katie Price? Is that someone I should know? She is on the most popular list and all." So I look her up on the ol' Google and it turns out, Katie Price is also known as Jordan.

Now we've all seen Jordan naked or close to it about a million times (just in case you haven't, I'm sure you can find a sample here), so big deal, I know. Well, the real point of this post is honesty. Yes, honesty. I love this quote from Katie or Jordan or whatever we call her:

"Some people may be famous for creating a pencil sharpener. I'm famous for my tits."

Now that's a gal who knows her reality.

Fully Aware

2006-11-12T17:26:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I was heading out for a run and two guys cross my path. First guy is carrying a case and a half of Milwaukee's Best. Second guy is carrying a case in a half of Schlitz.

I say to guy number one, "That looks like you guys can plan on a hungover day tomorrow."

He responds, "Oh, I think this one will be bad enough that it will be hungover tomorrow and Monday."

Eating Rampage

2006-11-11T13:14:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, as the workday and workweek drew to a close, I got that craving I often get -- get home and lie on the couch. Just for a little while or the whole night. Whichever feels right. However, this wasn't an option this day as I had a birthday party to attend at Dinosaur Bar-B-Que.

Stand by colon. Here comes meat ... and lots of it.

Since I didn't really have enough time to go home before the party and I couldn't think of anything to entertain myself with otherwise, I headed up to Harlem about an hour early. I took the train up to 125th Street, found Dinosaur, ordered a beer and sat outside drinking, reading some Harry Potter and watching the douche bags stuck in traffic out on the Henry Hudson (why people drive at rush hour on Friday is beyond me). It was great. Relaxing, entertaining and away from people. If the Mother Nature were to keep things warm for awhile, I would seriously think of doing this every Friday.

Anyway, when the party people arrived, it was time to eat. And eat I did. First the table shared some wings and fried green tomatoes. Off to a good start. Then, for myself I got one of their combo plates. This plate had a lot on it: 1/4 Chicken (leg & thigh), 1/4 Rack of Ribs, Texas Beef Brisket (sliced), 1/4 lb. of peel & eat shrimp, corn bread and two sides (mac & cheese and salt potatoes).

Holy Shit! So good.

I ate all of it. Plate clean! All that meat along with several beers and a shot of Jagermeister ... my stomach was bloated and happy. So good.

If anyone wants to do a field trip, let me know. I am all about a repeat performance.

Out With Questions

2006-11-09T20:43:00.000-05:00

On my way home tonight as I walked through the mess that is Union Square I hear some guy say to a woman, "Excuse me miss. Could I ask you a question?"

I thought to myself, Whenever anyone does that "could I ask you a question" shit you know something annoying is coming. Asking for money or asking for sex or asking for something that will lead to one of those things in one form or another. If someone just has a question about say directions or a request for matches, it's just "Excuse me miss [insert harmless and innocent question here]" with none of that "could I ask you a question" follow-up.

Anywho, as I was thinking all this, the woman responds (apparently thinking as I was). She says, "It's seems to me you already are asking me a question."

The guy is clearly thrown off a bit and just says, "What?"

And she says, "'Could I ask you a question?' is a question. Do you see the problem?"

Pretty snotty, but pretty much on target if you ask me.

I was out of earshot before I found out how things went from there, but I'm guessing it didn't go the way the guy had originally planned.

Wait Until You Leave The Train

2006-11-09T20:35:00.000-05:00

Two things I witnessed on the subway today (by two separate people at two separate times) that fall into the category of "not appropriate activities to do in public" and especially fall into the category of "not appropriate activities to do in public when in a fairly restricted space":

flossing teeth
cutting toenails

Pretty nasty.

Cluck, cluck

2006-11-07T13:03:00.000-05:00

Oh, little man ... you are in a lot of trouble. It's a giant chicken. Don't just sit there. Run! Run like you have never run before!!

Peace Sells

2006-11-06T22:44:00.000-05:00

I know we're not voting for President this year, but on this eve of Election Day perhaps it' s a good time to start thinking about your options.

This quote from an interview in the Sydney Morning Herald by Dave Mustaine of Megadeth pretty much has me sold on my 2008 candidate of choice:

"I'd be a really cool president (of the U.S.A.), I guarantee you, man. We'd have a party for a few days and then American sentiment in the world would go up.

"I'd say, 'We're taking back our soldiers from Germany, Korea, the Philippines and the Middle East. You guys fight your own f—ing battles. And by the way, if you're in the United States right now and you're illegal you've got a 90-day grace period. Get out.' Teachers would get paid a lot of money, so would cops. Politicians would get shit."

Get out your write-in voting pencils! This country (and maybe even the world) is as good as fixed.

Sporting Weekend

2006-11-05T21:51:00.000-05:00

The latter half of last week I spent out on Long Island for some conferences and learnin' courtesy of work. Three days dealing with my geographical arch enemy -- Long Island. Exhausting.

Having survived my fight to survive out on Long Island, upon my return to NYC on Friday evening it was no rest for the wicked. I dumped my crap off at home and headed up to Hunter College for some Gotham Girls Roller Derby. This time was Manhattan Mayhem vs. Brooklyn Bombshells. My borough reps, the Mayhem eeked out a victory by one point launching their bruised asses into the finals. Here's a taste of the action: That's trouble in the works there on the right.

Post victory, it was down for more action. This time of the bowling variety. No photos (because they came out like shit as bowling photos so often do). But trust me. There was bowling. And drinking.

Saturday, admittedly was a bit of a negative as far as sports go, unless you count lying on the couch, watching college football and eating some sushi.

Sunday I got back on it with a viewing of the ING New York City Marathon. I know viewing isn't half as impressive as participating, but shit, it's still something right? Plus, it makes for some decent photo ops (this would especially be the case if I had any photography talent). Anyway, let's move on.

First group is the wheel chair division. These fuckers fly.

Here's eventual winner Jelena Prokopcuka (in the orange shorts) kicking everyone's ass.

Here is the guy everyone was excited to see ... Lance Armstrong (in the dark green). Even the locals up on 1st Avenue and 103rd Street, know who Lance Armstrong is.

"You Are Freakin' Hot" This is my second favorite fan sign. I was unable to confirm if the sign was made for a certain runner, all the runners or just me, but either way, it's better than "Run. Bubba. Run." which I saw someone else holding up.

And this one is my favorite sign of the day. It's what everyone is thinking, this guy just had the balls and the artistic talent to make it happen. Kudos.

The end.

Oh, and I also watched the Steelers crap it up yet again. Super Bowl champs, my ass.

Happy Halloween!

2006-10-31T10:37:00.001-05:00

Finally, Seats in the 100 Section

2006-10-30T20:43:00.000-05:00

Today I selected for myself two season ticket seats at MSG for The New York Titans. My first season tickets for anything, so that is sort of exciting. I know it's not Rangers or Knicks season tickets, but it's a start. And to be perfectly honest, I'd prefer tickets to lacrosse over those two shit storms.

There are just four games at the MSG home and the first home game is in January, so if you have any desire share in my purchase, I suggest you be nice to me starting now.

Hombre Loco Del Pollo

2006-10-30T11:23:00.000-05:00

Back in the days when my office was located in New York City instead of Jersey City I did a good share of lunching at a place we like to call "Chicken Man" but was really just one of the many halal food carts scattered around my office and the rest of the city. $4 for lamb or chicken (or a combo if feeling crazy) with rice and salad. You can't beat that. Sure there is the chance that you may find a chunk of metal in your food or perhaps shit your pants before you are even through with your meal, but it's still worth it.

Anyway, it seems as though my first choice Chicken Man was the scene of a disagreement that didn't end so well: http://www.nydailynews.com/front/story/466625p-392516c.html

I'm guessing that this is the sort of food purchase transaction Allah would approve of.