I AM READY FOR A FRESH START...

with the NEW YEAR upon us.  So on the final days of 2009, I will be delivering a few TOP TEN lists.  Thank you all for sticking with me throughout the year.  It has been a pleasure.

My first list is... TOP TEN songs most frequently played on my IPOD during this Holiday Season.

10.)  YOUR EX-LOVER IS DEAD by STARS.  This song was introduced to me by a good friend well over a year ago and has been playing on my ipod nonstop ever since.  I love it.  It's heartfelt, soothing and vindicating.  Not a bad tune for all of you HOPELESS ROMANTICS out there.

9.)  WAKE UP by THE ARCADE FIRE.  I've been listening to this one for quite some time.  The Arcade Fire have always been one of my INDIE favorites.  A couple months ago I was in a theater and the Trailer for "Where the Wild Things Are" came on... And sure enough this song was playing.  I said, "I guess they're mainstream now".  Check it out... It's a great one.

8.)  CHRISTMAS (BABY PLEASE COME HOME) by DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE.  You had to know I was bound to mention some Christmas tunes since it is the season.  I've always loved when one of my favorite artists takes  a swing a Christmas tune.  And Death Cab knocked this one out of the park.  This one could bring a single tear down the face of a statue of JC.

7.)  SMOKERS OUTSIDE THE HOSPITAL DOORS by EDITORS.  I've been rocking out to this track for well for over a year now and for some reason I just can't stop listening to it.  Maybe it's that good.  Yeah, that's it.  It's amazing.  Give it a listen.  Believe me, you will not be disappointed.

6.)  ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU by MARIAH CAREY.  This song is on the soundtrack of one of my favorite Holiday movies, "Love Actually".  Every time it plays I'm as happy as a pig in shit.  This one could make any member of the Islamic Jihad smile.

5.)  CUPID by SAM COOKE.  This one really brings me back.  I'm not sure to when because I was born in the 80's and this song is like 50 years old, but it brings me to a happier time.  This oldie may be the greatest song ever created by a human.  It's a perfect melody for the Holiday Season and feel free to "draw back your bow" on Valentine's Day with this sure fire winner.

4.)  EMPIRE STATE OF MIND by JAY-Z (Featuring ALICIA KEYS).  Honestly, as corny as it sounds, this song makes me feel like anything is possible.  I could climb Kilimanjaro listening to this one.  I know the radio has overplayed the SHIT out of this track, but I don't care... it gets better every time I hear it.

3.)  LISZTOMANIA by PHOENIX.  Phoenix may be the best band to drop onto the scene this year.  You may know them best from their hit "1901" which plays during every Cadillac commercial.  That's a serious payday... Congrats dudes.  I saw them live at "The Greek" in a LA a few months back and the show was awesome.  If you get the chance to see them live... DO IT.  Otherwise you'll regret it later.

2.)  CHRISTMAS IN HOLLIS by RUN DMC.  By far my all time favorite Christmas tune.  This one first caught my ear while watching the original "DIE HARD" many years ago.  You can't go wrong with RUN DMC... those guys are LEGENDS.  Period.  "It's Christmas time in Hollis, Queens; Mom's cooking chicken and collared greens!"  Unbelievable track.

1.)  JUST BREATHE by PEARL JAM.  Ever since their debut album "TEN" landed in my lap back in 1992 I've been following these guys religiously.  Their tunes have continued to transcend the industry.  The honesty in Eddie Vedder's voice on this track is humbling to say the least.  Please give this one a listen as soon as possible.  It may change your life.

Honorable Mentions: A Dustland Fairytale by THE KILLERS, Can You Tell by RA RA RIOT, Kings and Queens by 30 SECONDS TO MARS, 4th Chamber by THE GZA, Cinnamon by THE LONG WINTERS and Manhattan by KINGS OF LEON.  ENJOY.

I AM ALL ABOUT THE HOLIDAYS...

Ah, Christmastime.  How can you ignore it?  The time of giving.  Love is peeking through the bitter cold air.  Snow.  Greens, reds, and whites cover the landscape.  Christmas Trees, ornaments, presents, eggnog, and FAMILY.  The music of the season plays throughout local malls and on every radio station in your car.  I don't know about you, but I love me some Christmas tunes.  Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Mariah Carey, and Nat King Cole all kill it.  And Christmas movies... The Best.  Give me Love Actually, Christmas Vacation, A Christmas Story, Home Alone, Die Hard, The Family Man, and The Family Stone on repeat please.  I love them.

I have such fond memories of the Holidays from my childhood.  My parents did a really good job instilling the Christmas Spirit in our house.  They must have since I still believe in Santa Claus.  I remember creeping into the living room one time at 5AM and admiring the allure of the our tree... or maybe I was just eyeing up the gifts.  I eventually passed out under the tree around 6 because I had given up on every one else getting up that early.  My mom, dad, and brother came out around 7:30 and enjoyed a good laugh at my expense.

Christmas was my favorite Holiday and it wasn't just about the gifts.  I especially loved Christmas EVE.  We always went to my Aunt Sandy's (my Godmother) house, where we enjoyed a traditional old school Italian meal with the 7 fishes and plenty more where that came from.  Vino was flowing like the Mississippi and everyone was always laughing.  Good times.  My family was simply enjoying each other's company.  Man, those were the days.

Surprisingly, Christmas has kept its luster.  I still enjoy it as much as I once did as a child.  The only problem now is we all live far away.  My parents live in Florida.  My brother lays his head in New Jersey.  And I reside in Southern California.  So it's interesting trying to get all of us together around the Holidays.  My mom and brother REFUSE to get on Airplanes.  My dad doesn't mind flying, but refuses to leave my mother behind.  My brother thinks it's sacrilegious to celebrate the birth of Christ anywhere it doesn't SNOW.  Then again, my mom doesn't want to travel too far now that she's in her Golden Girl years and my pops, who seems to be indifferent, just wants everyone to be together... only if we can afford it.

Last year was the first Christmas I spent away from my family.  On Christmas Eve, I hosted a little dinner and White Elephant Party for 10 of my friends who couldn't make it home.  I cooked for hours, drank wine, blasted X-MAS tunes, and played Home Alone on a loop.  We all had a great time.  Although I missed my family, I realized that a wonderful Christmas can be had anywhere.  Since I didn't make it home for Christmas or New Years, I flew to Florida for my Mom's birthday and the Superbowl a month later.  And we had our own BELATED Christmas.  Better late than never.

I love giving gifts.  It's an amazing feeling to watch a person's face when they are genuinely grateful for what they've received.  I find so much joy in coming up with a thoughtful, fun gift.  It's awesome.   You feel so good, you don't even want a gift in return.  And if you're lucky enough to get one, you appreciate it more than usual, even if you don't like it because it was all about the process and tradition.

One year when I was about 16; we were having some family problems.  I came home from boarding school for the Holidays and for the first time EVER... THE TREE WASN'T UP!  I felt like I had been TASERED by a Righty copper at a Lefty Political Rally in Missoula, Montana.  My mom just didn't have time to worry about it.  She was busy working her ASS off to keep a roof over our heads, while she and my father were going through their issues.  My parents were separated at the time... and that was the reason we were SANS tree.  It was nobody's fault.  There were more important things to worry about.  Dad wasn't around to take care of the Tree business.  My brother was at college, god knows where, but one of the 10 universities he attended and I was away at Prep School.  It was hard for my Mom to get all of these things done while trying to work and take care of the house.

During dinner that evening something was different.  My mom wasn't sad, she was definitely happy to see me, but she wasn't in her regular Christmas season kickoff dinner mood.  We talked about the tree.  She explained it was hard for her to carry up the stairs (we had a fake tree) and we weren't really exchanging many gifts that year dude to rough times financially.  I completely understood.  So I helped her with the dishes, kissed her goodnight, and she went off to bed.

As soon as she closed her door; I started working on my gift to her.  I immediately went downstairs to the basement and found the tree.  There was shit all over the place because we had moved into that house less than a year before.  I wrestled the tree out of its box and hauled it piece by piece upstairs.  Even though my mom's bedroom door was on the ground floor right next to the basement door, I knew she wouldn't hear a thing.  She can't hear anything when she's knocked out.  The woman sleeps like a F'in LOG.  A tank could roll over her bed firing heavy artillery and she wouldn't notice.

This wasn't my first RODEO with a tree, but it was the first time I'd ever tried to do it on my own.  My father was always there, and I was his little helper.

This tree was a big MOTHER, almost 9 feet tall.  First I put that sonofabitch together and wrapped the skirt around the bottom.  I meticulously put the lights up after that.  Then I decorated it with all of my favorite ornaments from childhood concentrating on the ones I knew Mommy loved best.  I followed up with applying a few layers of tinsel.  Finally, after sneaking a few beers from the garage refrigerator (sorry H) and almost 4 hours later... I placed that beautiful white STAR on top.   I stepped down from the ladder, plugged everything in and stepped back.  It was beautiful.  I smiled at my creation and walked upstairs to hit the sack.

The next morning I woke up early to see the look on my Mom's face.  She came out of her room, put up a pot of coffee, lit her morning smoke and walked into the living room.  I heard her say "Oh my GOD!"  She was so happy.  I came downstairs and she showered me with hugs and kisses and thanked me an infinite amount of times.  She really appreciated it.  It was the best gift I could have given her.  She didn't want material things... She just wanted to feel the Christmas Spirit like she did when we were young.  Although we didn't have as many gifts as usual to exchange that year, we still had another GREAT CHRISTMAS because we had something much better... Each other.

Happy Holidays Kids!!!

I AM THE ANGRIEST MAN ALIVE...

or so it may seem.  Do you ever feel frustrated when you're not getting your way?  Come on, of course you do... I do sometimes.  It's because you're spoiled, but do not fret, everyone does at some point.

I've always thought of myself as a "NICE" guy.  A simple man... if you will.  Yet the older I get, the more I realize, I'm anything but that.  And when I mention the word nice, what immediately comes to mind is that's another word I dislike with a passion.  It's a word we use nowadays to shut people up on IM or text... Or in a phone conversation when we aren't listening.  When putting it that way, "Nice" doesn't sound very good at all.

Some days I come home from work MISERABLE.  Well, to be completely honest, it's actually most days.  I never thought I would be THAT guy.  You know the guy... The one that brings his work home with him.  The funny thing here is my job is not difficult.  I don't have problems there.  I get along with all of my coworkers and my boss.  They're my friends.  So what's the problem?  I'm not angry on the way home, but once I step through the door I find reasons to be disgruntled.  I just wish I could come home and find the house clean, with nobody in it.  I don't hate my life, but I can't say I'm completely happy with where I'm at.

Having a roommate is HARD and has proven to be even more difficult when you know the person extremely well.  I'll be the first to admit; I'm a pain in the ass.  I'm sure I'm no cupcake to live with.  Having a best friend as a roomie is worse than being married (or living with your girlfriend) because there's no sex, no tax break, and domestic violence can occur often without the Policia showing up.  When you know someone so well, live with them, and have all the same friends; everything in your lives seems to be meshed together.  I don't even know which towels are mine anymore.  I'm having a great deal of trouble with that.

I have set so many goals for myself and so many standards in which to live by, that on occasion I don't even know which way is UP.  I want my house to be clean, especially if I'm expecting company.  I make my bed every morning.  I want the dishwasher emptied as soon as it's run its course so dishes don't pile up in the sink...  I want to feel like an adult.  I require a certain amount of privacy.  I want to EARN a decent living.  I want to be respected by my peers.  I want to treat women the way they deserve to be treated.  I want my family to be proud of me...  I have so much to live up to and I'm not sure if I'm fitting the bill.  I don't understand why I put so much pressure on myself.  I also like to drink Green tea... Maybe if I pour a cup on this rainy day everything will be okay.

So who's judging me?  Probably nobody... Nobody but me.  Most of my friends don't really give a shit about what I'm doing with my life.  It's not their job to.  I don't blame them.  They just want to hang out and have a good time.  And if I'm not readily available to them; they almost always unintentionally make me feel bad about it.  It's as if they cannot have a good time without me.  I know this isn't true; I've seen pictures.  And that's my own shit I've have to deal with.  It's not their fault.  They simply want me around... As I want them around.  But sometimes people NEED to understand the circumstance.  There are times I can't afford to have a GOOD time out on the town.  The truth is most of my friends are willing to pick up a tab just so I'm in attendance, but you know what, I'm not that kind of guy.  I don't want any part of it until I know I can offer something in return.  I love what they're trying to do, but the most important thing right now is getting my life started in my area of focus, not getting shitcanned every Friday and Saturday.   

Most of my friends are enjoying some kind of financial success in one way or another; I, on the other hand am not.  I respect them for it.  Most of them EARNED it.  And I want to hang out as much as they do, but I don't feel comfortable when people want to buy me things.  It's totally a poor man's syndrome.  And I don't want people to feel sorry for me.  Yes, I'll let you buy me a drink here and there but I absolutely REFUSE to take advantage of someone I love.  Yes, I have a great core group of friends.  Yes, I have a great family, but me allowing myself to use other people as a crutch is not the key to my happiness.

The key to my happiness is PURSUIT... And I have been slacking... Again.  Pursuing a dream is the purest form of living.  If you want something; you have to take it.  You have to try... And try pretty fucking hard.  I mean isn't this what it's all about?  Making your dreams a reality...  You can't let anyone tell you something is impossible, because it's just not true.  If you want to be a fucking ASTRONAUT, by all means study your ass off, go to a great school, and enter the space program at NASA for fuck's sake.

I made a life-altering decision to move and completely redirect where my life was headed over 5 years ago.  I left a stable life, for one without an iota of stability.  Looking back, I know I made the right choice, but it's time to get back on track.  What am I doing about getting to my final destination?  I'll tell you... I'm learning.

One thing I've learned on this journey is... YOU CAN'T CHANGE PEOPLE.  They are who they are and that's FINAL.  If you live with someone that doesn't live by your standards, it can be difficult, but asking them to be like you isn't fair.  They don't want to be like you.  They want to be themselves.  So getting mad at someone for being his or herself is a BAD idea.  And if you continue to try and change others you'll continue to be unhappy.  So move on... Move up... or Move on out like the Jefferson's did.  And maybe, just maybe... start thinking about making some changes of your own.  Trust me, you'll smile more.

I AM IN THE MIDST...

of a RAINY day in California.  Days like today come few and far between, so we must relish them.  The normally empty river beds and canals now rush with ample amounts of water.  It's particularly cold on this dark, dreary afternoon in Los Angeles.  The rain falls steadily, causing the city's inhabitants to move at a turtle's pace.

The WEATHER out here can be tricky... especially in the Winter.  The rest of the year it's almost always glorious.  Sunny, 75-85 Degrees... A slight breeze sweeping off the shores of Santa Monica.  Brilliant.  Yet in December, January, and parts of February we have what they call a rainy season.  Translation... It rains maybe 8 times; if we're lucky.

I remember a few years back it was 80 degrees throughout most of December.  On Christmas day I was on my porch with my shirt off reading a book.  The year I moved west, LA supposedly had more rain than it had experienced in over 15 years.  There were MUDSLIDES, sinkholes, and all kinds of shit you've only ever seen on CNN if you're from the East Coast.

The denizens of this famed city seem to hate the rain.  I'll tell you one thing... They're never prepared for it.  We probably have one of these local dipshit weathermen to blame.  You know... The one with the kooky name... Like Dallas Raines.  Man that guy gets on my nerves.  Being a meteorologist in this city has to be the easiest paycheck on the planet.  All he has to say is, "It's gonna be nice out people and this job is a joke!"  Then the one day a year it rains; the shit hits the fan.  Houses slide down from the cliffs of Malibu and the Palisades.  Water mains burst causing floods at major intersections in Hollywood.  Everyone I know asks to either borrow my raincoat or for me to suggest a place to get a good one.  Accident rates go up exponentially and yet traffic appears to creepily die down.  All I hear on Pico is sirens, instead of the normal flow of Traffic.  It's weird... Like people won't drive in the rain... and those that decide to venture out operate their heavy machinery much worse than they normally do.  And good old Mr. Raines is munching on a Pink's Hot Dog in a Burbank studio shrugging his shoulders at his producers like, "Who knew?"

Most ANGELENOS drive like assholes regularly, but when precipitation falls... Forget about it.  Every other wannabe is still speeding down the freeway to get to his/her Wendy's commercial audition and they're already 45 minutes late.  They buzz by you in a the carpool lane with no other passengers aboard their vessel, all while flicking you off, wearing obnoxious sunglasses, a designer shirt from Zara's (The European Gap), talking to their manager on Bluetooth and texting the STRUMPET they shagged the night before.  As far as I'm concerned, you can take your shades, bluetooth, and your manager and shove them all up your waxed ASS CRACK.

I just saw a woman walking down the street dressed in a completely inappropriate manner for a 45 degree rainy day in December.  She had on a short skirt and high heels, sunglasses, a make shift rain coat (leather jacket), an umbrella in one hand, and a leash for her mini dog in the other.  I walked outside to watch this woman painfully scurry down the block.  I noticed she was shivering and her little Beverly Hills Chihuahua was hopping around a few steps ahead wearing the nicest raincoat I'd ever seen.  The dog was having the time of it's life.  I laughed my ass off.  These people are hilarious.  I thought to myself, "That's nice, but get your priorities straight lady."

At nighttime rainfall is the best.  I find the sound of drops hitting the rooftop comforting.  The sight of streaming water on a window pane and the glaze it creates is beautiful.  The rain tends to set my mind at ease and helps me close my eyes when my head hits the pillow.  I miss the rainy, cool days of Spring back east.  Lightning.  A good THUNDERSTORM.  Thunder is virtually non existent around these parts.  Whenever you hear rumbling, go stand in the doorway cause it's usually an earthquake.

My advice to anyone that comes here is avoid being on the road in the rain.  And if you must go out, don't drive like the majority of these dimwits.  Drive safely, but normally.  It's just rain.  It's not Midwestern HAIL or a Vermont snowstorm.  You don't have to go to COSTCO and stock up on water and canned goods.  The rain eventually stops, and might not come again for a while.  So I say take it in.  Enjoy it... And feel blessed that we only have to step over a few puddles and dodge some mud a couple times of year... Rather than dodging a 50 foot TIDAL WAVE rushing upon us from the shores of the Pacific.  Oh yeah, and go get yourself a DAMN RAINCOAT.

I AM THE GUY...

Who saves all kinds of STUPID stuff I'm so sure I need to survive.  Whether it be an inspiring FORTUNE from a fortune cookie, or a ticket stub from a great concert or movie; I save it.  Other examples: An embarrassingly awesome Granny-like, red sweater I wore to a "Bad Christmas Sweater Party" 2 years ago.  Free T-shirts with absolutely NO sentimental value line my closet shelves like a Salvation Army Store in St. Louis.  2 Dollar bills.  I can't help but save them.  And where do they come from anyway?  I know we don't print them any more, so how the HELL are they still in circulation?  I thought only barbers framed them to hang on their mirrors and hobos used them to wipe their stinky asses.  I had a couple over the past year, but wound up giving them to my roommate to buy smokes when he was down on his luck.

I was doing some WINTER cleaning the other day in preparation for the Holiday season.  And when I say cleaning, I mean under the bed and in every crevice of my little walk in.  I found so much SHIT that had no business being in my possession.  Jets tickets from 5 years ago when they waxed the 49ers.  A BRAVEHEART movie ticket stub from opening night in 1995.  A Bass pro Shop netted trucker hat I picked up on a field trip in college... I wouldn't wear that puppy to a SHIT FIGHT.  The CD case for Counting Crows debut album AUGUST AND EVERYTHING AFTER.  I have the CD somewhere and the whole album on 3 different ipods and on my computer.  Point Break on VHS, which I obviously own on DVD and had the Bluray in my hand at BEST BUY two days earlier.  My first concert tickets for Barenaked Ladies, who I saw at JONES BEACH back in 1997.  Airplane tickets from 3 years ago when I went to SUNDANCE to promote a film.  Sides from an audition I went on 2 years ago for a part I didn't get.  Fuckers.  

So I grabbed a trash bag to throw all of this stuff away... And I just couldn't do it.  Eventually, I shoved everything I wanted to keep in a shoe box and filled the bag with depressing, old bank statements and bills I paid from 2 apartments ago.

Why do I save this NONSENSE?  Am I the only one?  As I type on my MacBook, I look down where I have a fortune taped to my laptop just below the keyboard reading... "Happiness isn't in having what you want, but rather in wanting what you have."  What the FUCK does that even mean?  I see the little sliver of paper has one of my lucky numbers (6) underneath the text which is undoubtedly the reason I defaced one of my most prized possessions.  But hey, they're just possessions, right?  Who needs em.

Yes, I want things I don't have... like we all do.  Yes, I want to keep the things I already have, but does that have to include ticket stubs, half-dollar coins, Airline tickets and shoes I don't wear?  Perhaps.  I should probably give the clothes and shoes away to people in need; it is Christmas time.

I believe we save things because we're desperately trying to hold on to our past.  We fear letting it go, but is it really going anywhere?  I have all of these memories locked into my tiny brain.  I will always remember the time everyone said I was cockblocking my friend from his date during the Phoenix and Metric show 2 months ago at the Greek.  I don't need the stub to remind me of that... Unless I'm diagnosed with Alzheimer's when I'm 73.  Having said that (Curb Your Enthusiasm Reference for you buttheads that don't watch) I'm going home tonight, buying a Christmas tree, decorating that shit, watching Christmas Vacation on Bluray, listening to Frank Sinatra's Christmas Album, drinking EggNog spiked with RUM and throwing out or giving away everything in my apartment I don't need.

I AM DROPPING A TOP TEN...

On a Monday.  This one's for my boy C. Riley who appreciates when I do a top ten on my college email chain like no other.  Here are my top ten favorite INVENTIONS...

10.)  SOAP.  Without this one we'd all look like Joe Pesci in "With Honors".  Soap-making was established in 7th Century Europe.  We have Italy, Spain, France, and ENGLAND to thank for manufacturing this great invention on a large scale.  It soon became a profitable enterprise by the 12th Century.  People were fed up with being dirty.  Cities were disgusting.  Government officials were sick of looking at paupers with dirt on their faces, so they made soap available to all.  Too bad nobody took their advice... If they did maybe they could have avoided the fucking PLAGUE.  Probably not though (as I squirt some PURELL on my hands like a maniac).

I have to say, I am forever grateful for Europeans bringing the first movement of cleanliness to the world, but it still confuses me as to why they won't wear DEODORANT.  A shower just isn't enough, pal.  Clean it up.  Rite Aid is having a sale on my favorite deodorant right now.  Let me know if I can pick a stick up for you on my way home from work.

9.)  THE RAZOR.  I don't need to explain this one.  If you're interested in my take on the razor, go back and read my entry from early April.  http://iamkeadly.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-am-eternally-grateful-to-first-woman.html

Nobody likes a hairy lady.

8.)  INDOOR PLUMBING.  Seriously... Maybe the best invention of them all.  I can't imagine having to go outside in the middle of the night to take a DUMP in a wooden outhouse.  Who the hell wants to freeze their ass off outside and get a splinter on their bum while trying to have a healthy BM at 2AM?  Not me.  I guess I have to thank the inventor of the TOILET as well.  Thanks, toilet guy.  

And what about Showers?  I mean what's better than a hot SHOWER in your own bathroom?  Nothing in my opinion.  Where would we be without these luxuries?  I know...  Picture yourself standing knee deep in a river lathering the crack of your ass with a bar of SOAP, all while taking a PISS, when your neighbor strolls by with her two kids and the family Cocker Spaniel.  You wave.  They scream.  That would be awesome... and terrifying.  

Credit for the invention of Indoor Plumbing is given to the Romans.  Why not, right?  They invented everything else.  They also conquered most of the Earth at the time.  My only beef with their inventions is the underlying GAY theme with most of them... Just not sure what this one is?  Roman Bath Houses.  Yeah, that's it.

7.)  THE CAMERA.  It was first invented as a tool for ARTISTS to see a subject clearer at a distance for purposes of drawing with depth of field.  This took off early in the 19th Century.  At first they were only able to capture a still for a brief period of time.  Shortly after a device was developed so that the picture seen through the lens of a camera could be captured onto material (paper).  Genius.

Cameras are the BEST.  We shoot movies on cameras.  We take pictures for sentiment with cameras.  The art form that is PHOTOGRAPHY comes from the camera.  Cameras have allowed us to take tangible memories with us wherever we go.  Some of us even use them to get famous.  Paris Hilton.  Some of us use them to relaunch our careers.  Tommy Lee and Pam Anderson.  Some of us use them cause we are complete fucking idiots.  Carrie Prejean.  That stupid, simple minded peasant otherwise known as Miss California.  So with that said, take naked pictures of yourself, shoot a porn with your boyfriend and throw them up on one of my other favorite inventions (The Internet) and you'll immediately have a following.

Without the Camera we wouldn't have such a clear picture of HISTORY.  We'd still be reading people's accounts of what happened in a particular place and time.  And since more than one person knew how to write, we'd be juggling stories and realizing that people were just as full of shit back then as they are today.

6.)  THE LIGHTBULB.  This one goes to fellow New Jerseyian Thomas Alva Edison.  Yeah the guy was born in Ohio, but so what... he did all of his important work in Jersey, so piss off.

At the time of Edison's lamp invention in 1879, gas lighting was a well established industry.  The gas infrastructure was in place, franchises had been granted, and manufacturing facilities for both gas and equipment were in profitable operation.  So without a doubt, people were both excited and pissed about what was on the horizon.  Soon enough Electrical lines were up and houses across the world were lit up.  The world was a much brighter place.

Of course none of this would a have been possible without ELECTRICITY... which wasn't invented.  It was probably stumbled upon by some dude who rubbed his feet on the carpet and then zapped his girlfriend by simply touching her.  Or maybe Allesandro Volta invented the first source of continuous electric current in a lab somewhere... who knows.

I can't fathom living in the DARK.  Fucking candles and gas lamps?  Are you kidding me?  We really have it easy.  Can you picture all those people having SEX in the dark for so many years?  Poor chaps.  Who has sex in the dark anyway?  Weirdos.  It must have been easy to get drunk at the local watering hole and take some 10 (or 2) home.  It didn't matter what she looked like, cause you could barely see her... until morning when you wake up next to OLGA and are as terrified as I was when I first saw the film "CANDYMAN".  Oops.  At least back then you had an excuse.

5.)  THE WHEEL.  Obviously.  The Wheel is arguably the most important invention of all time.  The world would be a completely different place without it.  

The wheel was the cornerstone of the INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION for Christ's sake.  Take a second to think about all of the things that work with wheels.  It will drive you out of your mind.  The ball on my Blackberry is a wheel.  Cars, bikes, trains, planes, roller skates, the automatic pitching machine, VHS tapes (do people still own these? I do... and have nothing to play them on), The AB roller, the mouse on your computer, Dr. Finkelsteins chair in "The Nightmare Before Christmas", and most suitcases (for you lazy bums) all have wheels.  Phew.  I'm definitely thankful to the HUMAN responsible for creating the first pottery wheel, which is believed to be the first kind.  Back in 3500 BC people thought this invention was unimportant, since it dealt with making bowls, plates, cups, and vases... little did they know what would come.  Silly Mesopotamians.

4.)  THE GAME OF FOOTBALL.  Allow me to begin by thanking the English for inventing RUGBY first because without them we wouldn't have been able to steal their already great idea and make it so much better.  Like we did with "The Office" (I know everyone says that the English version is better, but you're wrong) or murdering and pillaging people on land we claimed, but was already inhabited.  Thanks Brits.  Love you guys.

American FOOTBALL was started in 1879 by a player/coach named Walter Camp at YALE University.  If you were wondering why they only let smart people into that school... Here's your answer... It's because the dude that invented FOOTBALL went there.  Duh.  

What Camp did was take Rugby and make it a more complex game, with an intricate set of rules.  What most people don't know is football is a game of precision and strategy.  It's like Chess.  Each move you make must be carefully, yet swiftly executed...  I know the brutality of the game is a bit primative, but there is so much more behind the game.  Not just any moron can play... and play well.  Football players are actually quite smart; not always book smart, but in order to have any success on a major level, a player must be intelligent.  There are so many rules, plays, and so much instruction going on during the course of a game you'd be surprised at how smart some of these dumb asses are.  

By the way, the first football game ever played was in NEW BRUNSWICK, NEW JERSEY between Princeton and Rutgers.  The game was won by RU 6-4.  Must have been a barn burner.

3.)  THE CELL PHONE.  Now, I know I've mentioned my distaste for jerks yapping on this device loudly, and how impolite this ghastly THINGAMAJIG has made us all, but it's still very important.  I love my Cell cause I can call my mother wherever I am.  This isn't just so she doesn't have to worry; it's if I'm doing something interesting, I can share a little bit of what I'm experiencing with the H-Bomb (My Mom). 

Back in 1947 at BELL Laboratories (AT&T's research arm) the cellular communications idea was spawned, but nothing came of it until the late 1960's.  By this time, Bell and MOTOROLA were competing in the rat race of cellular inventions.

In 1973, a former general manager for the system division of Motorola named Dr. Martin Cooper made the first call on a portable cellular phone.  Oddly enough, he called his rival over at Bell Labs, head of research Joe Engel, without a doubt to tell him... "I won, go fuck yourself."

Cooper is considered the inventor of the first portable headset.  Obviously it didn't look like anything we are carrying around today.  It was more like a portable CINDER BLOCK with an antennae sticking out of it, Zack Morris style.  Dr. Cooper was 70 years young at the time and unsatisfied with his accomplishment.  He wanted them to smaller, cheaper, and accessible to all.  It was said that he wanted everyone to be able to carry a portable phone EVERYWHERE.  Well guess what MARTY, you got your fucking WISH.  Three year old whipper snappers call their play dates to tell them they just SHIT their pants... again.  Mission accomplished, pal.

2.)  THE COMPUTER.  This one most people love for different reasons than I do.  People crave the ability to play games, communicate via email or ichat and stare at virtual photo albums.  I do not.  I believe we take for granted the computer's most simple, (yet probably technically complex) feature... Being able to save your writing... or anything for that matter.

So many names can be mentioned in the effort to launch the first computer... I'll stick to two.  Konrad Zuse, a German scientist, had the idea of building a controlled calculating machine for dealing with extensive calculations.  I don't understand any of the scientific MUMBO JUMBO which came next, but I do know people were working on the same shit in the U.S.  Howard Aiken was our guy in the States.  Basically he and Zuse, were separately developing complicated calculators.  Thanks for that guys, because everyone hates doing long division on paper.  Who the FUCK wants to show their work?  I used to want to tell my teachers to shove it...  We're lazy, remember?

Okay, so back to the reason I have so much love for the COMPUTER... The TYPEWRITER was such a pain in the ASS.  I love to write and as we all know it's easy to make mistakes when we type.  With a typewriter you had to white out mistakes individually... which sucked.  

Also if a random idea came to you; you're only option was to put it down on paper.  And what if you lost that piece of paper?  You'd be fucked.  Taking notes on your computer and having the ability to hit a simple SAVE button is perfection in my book.  Click SAVE and BAM!!!  It's on file, forever...  Man oh man... I love the computer almost as much as beautiful Canadian women.

1.)  THE INTERNET.  "What the fuck is the Internet?" Jay asks Ben Affleck in "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back"... you may have the same query.

The Internet is a worldwide network of thousands of computers and computer networks.  It's a public, voluntary, and cooperative effort between the connected institutions and is not owned by any single organization.  It really boggles my mind as to how it works, but it's so sweet.

The idea for said network first went into development around the same time the first cell phone call was made in 1973.  An American Computer scientist named Vinton Cerf championed this project through the United States Department of Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency and was directed by American Engineer Robert Kahn, not Al Gore. 

Obviously it took 20 years of development until it really took off publicly.  In the 90's, the Internet was the wave of the future.  It began with a few emails, Instant Messenger and a few Virtual reality games and five years later everything known to man was accessible via the NET.

The Internet has made communicating so simple it's disgusting.  Between Computers, the NET, and CELL PHONES... there is no excuse for not staying in touch with your friends and family.  Also you don't even have to leave your house to embarrass yourself and your family by purchasing pornographic material in some CREEPY shop.  It's all readily available to you in the privacy of your home.  Because of the INTERNET, nobody has to know you're a CREEP, unless of course you're on the MEGAN'S LAW online list.  Thanks INTERNET.

Honorable mentions:  The AIRPLANE... I could write about this incredible machine for days.  So many inventions came before it in order to get it off the ground..  I have such respect for airplanes.  Every time a plane flies over my head I say, "How the fuck do they do it?"

The CONDOM... It's said that the first condoms were used as early as 1000 BC.  They were made out of linen.  We know this because of cave paintings.  I know, trust me, I have been in many caves... especially in the Middle East... And those drawings are there.  Even Neanderthals thought..."Wow, I can do this and NOT have Kids?... Thank God!" "Wait, I can wrap this meat-rod up and PREVENT it from leaking like a broken faucet?"  "Amazing... now all we have to wait for is someone to invent the rubber condom... Or rubber."

I AM NOT COMPLAINING...

Anymore.  That's it.  I do it far too often.  We all do.  Complaining is the ultimate form of TIME SUCKAGE.  Time is too precious.  There are way too many things we ALL take for granted.  There is way too much for live for.  I waste so much time thinking about what could have been... What I should have done.  I should have been productive instead of dwelling on the past, but so be it.  The past is THE PAST.  Life is too short.

Do I hate my life sometimes?  Yes.  Do I regret decisions I have made?  Yes.  Have I been impatient?  Yes.  Do I occasionally get frustrated too easily? Yes.  Do I keep people at a distance intentionally?  Yes.  Am I afraid of failure?  Of success?  Yes.  Finding my purpose has proven to be be quite difficult over the past few years.  I sometimes forget what my plan is.  Do I even have one?

This past weekend I received some bad news.  A guy I went to High School with passed away.  He had been battling Cancer for quite some time.  He was truly one of the GOOD guys.  I didn't know him as well as I would have liked because we ran in different circles.  He was one of those people that seemed to always be smiling.  I never met anyone that said they didn't like this guy.  It's probably safe to mention that you couldn't find a soul on this planet to say a bad thing about him.  Needless to say, it was sad day, even though I wasn't close with him.

A few years back I was at a JETS game.  They were playing the Cincinnati Bengals on their home opener.  Myself, my brother, my best buddy and three other friends all had season tickets.  We were getting after it that day. My brother had made a pork shoulder that had been cooking for 12 hours (for pulled pork sandwiches) and our buddy Jimmy had cheffed up some serious ribs.  It was a feast.  The only thing was, my best buddy wasn't there.  I'd called him multiple times, but got no answer.

About 30 minutes before the game, he showed up.  I had been tailgating since the breakfast hour for this 1:00PM kickoff, so I was feeling "AWESOME" to say the least.  He on the other hand, was a mess.  His shirt was covered in blood.  His demeanor was frightening.  Once he calmed down, he explained to me he was going through some family troubles with his father.  I said, "So what are you doing here man?"  He just wanted to come give us his ticket and a few other tickets he got through work so that we could sell or give them away.  The two tickets he got from work were 2 rows from the field behind the endzone.  I was pumped about the seats since ours were in the upper deck (Note: All seats are pretty good in the Meadowlands) but at the same time worried about my friend.

I asked him if he was Okay, and he said, "Yeah man, just have some stuff to take care of at home...  Do whatever you want with the tickets."  This guy never missed a game, so I knew whatever he was dealing with was SERIOUS.

As I walked into the stadium among the masses I felt for my friend and thought, "What a great guy".  He came all the way to the stadium to give ME the tickets.  He wanted ME to see the game up close and personal.  It was almost as if he felt like me being there was just as good as him being there with me.  This dude is top notch.  I hope everyone has a friend like him.  So I walked down to my new seats wearing a wife beater, drinking a beer (typical Jersey style) all while yelling at the top of my lungs.

I arrived at my seat and immediately started screaming at the Bengals warming up on the field.  Well, this time it wasn't heckling in typical Jet fan fashion... I was yelling for my friend and college teammate who at the time was the starting Free Safety for the Bengals.  (He now starts for the Minnesota Vikings.)

After getting some attention from Cincinnati's defensive backs, the crowd around me thought I was a lunatic... And they weren't far off.  In the middle of one of my rants about how I should be on the field playing, I heard someone behind me calling my name.  I turned to the sea of GREEN and couldn't recognize any faces.  Mind you, I was wearing shades and probably couldn't recite the ALPHABET or pick my BROTHER out in a two person LINEUP. (Footnote Ty) 

So I turned around and focused for a second with a drunken curiosity and heard the call again.  And sure enough in the row behind me and a few seats down was RYAN MCGRATH, a kid I went to Prep School with.  Ryan and I were always really cool with one another back in High School.  He was also a Baseball teammate of my buddy that had given me the seats.  They had lost touch over the years, but were friends.  Ryan told me he hoped everything was Okay with my friend and told me to make sure I said "Hello" for him.  He was sitting with a few other people we went to school with, so I sat and chatted with them.  He cracked me up.  He told me about his college wrestling career as well as his new job coaching.  It was like I'd seen him the day before, although it had been at least 5 years since we last spoke.  

This kid was a GREAT athlete.  Ryan excelled in Baseball and Wrestling... which he pursued at the University of Virginia and later at Rutgers.  At the current time he was coaching wrestling at a school not far from my house.  My brother wound up coaching at the same school the following year where they saw each other a few times.  I learned a lot about Ryan that day although we only spoke for a short while.  We gave each other a hug and hi-five and parted ways.  I thought to myself, this was a guy I should have spent more time with.

My memory of Ryan is as follows... He was a HUGE hit with the ladies.  McGrath was tall and handsome.  He was intelligent.  He was a great friend to so many.  He was without a doubt a great son.  I just wish I knew him better, but sometimes that's life, you know?

On Saturday morning, November 6th, I received a call from another old friend from High School.  She told me Ryan had passed.  He was just a year older than me.  At the time I was watching my IOWA HAWKEYES plummet from national Championship contention and suddenly I didn't care about football.  An unexplainable sadness washed over me.  I worried about his family, his friends and anyone close to him.  I knew he had Cancer.  I'd always wanted to reach out, but I never did.  There was nothing I could do.  Then, everything fell into perspective.  Sometimes shitty things happen to the BEST people. It's just terrible, but our time on this Earth is LIMITED.  We really have to make the most of it.  And from a distant perspective Ryan did just that.  When I knew him, he was the kind of guy everyone wanted to be like.  He was Happy... Well Liked... Respected... for all the right reasons.  I know my entry may not make a difference in anyone's life, but I feel like it's necessary to say he touched everyone he knew... even those that didn't know him best.

To his family and dearest friends (Ryan Williams, Adam Boyd, Kevin Kennedy, Bracken, BJ, Chuck and the rest of the Blair Day Crew and many others I have missed)... My sincerest condolences go out to all of you.  Ryan is no longer suffering.  In this time of grieving, I hope you can take comfort in that.  And know this... he influenced us all.

So when you're down... When you're complaining about the outfit you have on, or the fact that you can't find a job, or dishes in the sink... Cut the shit.  Realize you have it good.  Somebody always has it worse.  Smack yourself in the face and move on.  Respect those that came before you.  Do something to better yourself.  Spend time with your family and friends.  Don't be afraid to live.  Make a difference... Like Ryan did.

For RYAN MCGRATH- Rest well, my friend.  You will be missed by all.

I AM ALONE...

and sometimes I feel like this was the way it was meant to be.  And when I say ALONE, I don't just mean SINGLE, I mean alone at this very moment.  It's 1:09 AM PST and everyone in my age bracket is almost certainly out drinking their faces off, dressed as some character from their favorite film, and makeup is running furiously down women's faces like some skank at the climax of a STAG film.  I chose to be here though.  This isn't some form of depression.  It's a form of expression... A stepping stone toward adulthood perhaps.  

I'm usually a big fan of HALLOWEEN.  It's always fun to dress in costume for a party.  It's the one time it's absolutely acceptable for adults to look and act like complete MORONS.  I've had some good costumes over the past few years.  Three years ago I was STEVE PREFONTAINE, the famous distance runner from Oregon, who died during his prime.  The year after, I was Christian Bale's character, Patrick Bateman, from "AMERICAN PSYCHO".  Both were HUGE hits with the crowd.  

Last year I was underprepared for the holiday.  I didn't have time to shop around or even think of a homemade costume.  I wound up walking around HOLLYWOOD in tight Dinosaur Pajama bottoms, slippers, a throwback Dick Butkus jersey and my favorite wool Chicago Bears beanie with a poofy ball on top.  Although I looked like a douche, I didn't care because Hollywood is full of Douches.  It really sucks to go out around there.  It's even worse on Halloween.  They close down streets.  Traffic is awful (worse than normal if that's even possible).  Chicks are dressed like hookers (which is every night in those parts).  Trannies are out in full force.  West Hollywood looks like Harvey Milk is giving a speech for City Supervisor on every corner.  And every phony BRO in the SOUTHLAND is roaming the streets unknowingly auditioning for Dateline's "HOW TO CATCH A PREDATOR".

Halloween is not supposed to be a fashion show.  You're not supposed to look COOL.  (There's that word again.  I hate it.)  Your costume is.  You shouldn't be thinking about getting laid for your good looks; you should be trying to get laid by the merit of your costume.  Yes it can be difficult to come up with something original, but do your homework... You'll think of something.

I know dudes love Halloween cause it's also the one time of year CHICKS can dress like complete SLUTS and no one judges them for it.  Except me of course.  Don't get me wrong, I appreciate a short skirt, stockings, high heels, and blinding cleavage all over the place, but it can become quite the distraction throughout the night.  Usually all you're thinking about is shagging every chick in a French maid outfit.  Being surrounded by women dressed like school girls is worse than being SHIT FACED surrounded by SLUMP BUSTERS.  At least in the latter case you will probably get lucky.  The first situation just gets you a STIFFY, with your stiff drink in hand.  And more likely than not, you will strike out with every hot girl there because you'll spend more time fantasizing, instead of drinking to get your confidence up and actually speaking to them.  Fucking women rule the Earth.

So this year, all of my friends were excited for Halloween yet again, but there weren't any solid plans.  One group wanted to attend a party in Hollywood, which I immediately VETOED.  Been there, done that.  It's too far anyway and I'm already going to spend an eternity in HELL, why should I spend one more day there while I'm still alive?  Another group suggested a Hotel Party in the South bay.  Still too far.  Definitely not driving, nor am I taking a $70 cab ride unless of course that includes tip and the party is at Hef's house.  I do want to hang with my friends but where the Fuck are the good parties in my neighborhood?  That's pretty selfish...  I hear the college kids across the alley getting blitzed right now.  Sounds fun.  We should have went to that.

Now as the day rapidly approached, everyone kept asking me, "What are we doing on Saturday?"  And each time I said, "I have no idea" because I HAD NO IDEA.  Honestly, I didn't care.  I don't really have money for going out and having a GOOD time.  And since Halloween fell on a weekend, everybody wanted to get dressed up and hit the town Friday and Saturday.  I agreed to do Friday.

My good buddy and I decided on Thursday night that we were going to be THE WET BANDITS.  Maybe better known to you as MARV and HARRY from "HOME ALONE".  (Obviously I was going as Harry cause I am almost as vertically challenged as Joe Pesci)  A little sidebar here... "Home Alone" is easily in my Top Ten favorite movies of ALL TIME.  I love that shit.  I watch it around 30 times a year during the Holiday Season. 

We went out on Friday, and our duo costume was a hit among friends, but outside our group not enough people picked up on the "Home Alone" reference.  That was disappointing.  Maybe I'm getting old.  Maybe I need better ideas for costumes.  Doubtful.  Come on Jokers... My boy had the IRON MARK on his forehead and I had feathers all over my coat and soot on my face.  Get with it people.  "Home Alone" is a CLASSIC, and will stand the test of time.

So here I am.  Most of my friends are out.  I'm sitting at my desk at this ungodly hour scribbling about myself like an ego maniac.  Pretty pathetic I guess, but I'm happy.  I'll feel awesome tomorrow morning for not going out.  By the time I post this entry tomorrow, I'll be flipping burgers on the grill and my peers will be sluggishly getting out of bed in time to watch the second round of NFL games.  

Sometimes it's good to be ALONE.  Read a book.  Watch a movie.  It feels fantastic to know you're doing something different than everyone else in a particular moment.  So if you're alone, don't let it get you down, embrace it.  You need it.  I need it.  We need it to breathe.  It's simply a survival technique.  Being surrounded by people all the time can get claustrophobic, especially when they're in costumes.

(Happy Halloween kids.  I hope you get some Skittles.  I think I hear the neighbors winding down.  That means it's time for me to call it quits.  I could use a solid night of sleep and this Bon Jovi Documentary is about to start on SHOWTIME.  Who needs a costume when you have cable?)

I AM NOT A POLITICIAN...

Nor do I aspire to be one.  Politicians lives are not amusing.  Everybody wants something from them, but they can only do so much...  Right?  These highly regarded citizens have so many people telling them what to do it's ridiculous.  From city council people to mayors to Governors to the highest office in the land; it's a group effort.  It must be awful to be the President.  It's only great on the day you win.  Celebrate for one night, everybody loves you; and the next day off to work you go and everyone loathes your existence.  This guy (or woman someday, hopefully never Sarah Palin so I don't have to throw myself into a wood chipper) has someone that writes his speeches for him, a Press Secretary, a Security Advisor, a team of Secret Service Agents around him at all times, 15 Cabinet members busting his balls, kids pining for his attention, and a WIFE that wants to kick his ass every night for never making it to dinner on time.  As exctiting as the job sounds, I wouldn't take it if they offered me season tickets to the Jets and a guaranteed 50 yard line seat at every Super Bowl until I croak.  

I can't wait until a woman is President.  I will love to see how the FIRST MAN handles that one.  He'll probably quit his job, spend all day at home watching SPORTSCENTER on repeat, try to bang every intern in the WHITE HOUSE and choke the chicken every chance he gets all while drinking himself into oblivion.

(NOTE:  This is going to be a long one, so don't hold your breath... Unless being asphyxiated gives you a WOODSTOCK... Then by all means, go for it.)

You know what really raises my eyebrows (besides themselves, since they seem to be growing closer and closer to my hairline every day)?  Political debate among commoners.  Man, people get heated.  This person thinks that person's a baby killer.  This guy hates tax reform.  This lady is adamantly opposed to Gay marriage.  Everyone is entitled to their own opinion.  One person believes this... the other believes that.  It all depends on who raised you and where you grew up.  That's why we all don't see eye to eye.  I come from the Middle Class (which seems to be disappearing).  My father was a union official and my Mom was working woman (not that kind you filthy animals).  So we all tend to lean to the left, since most RIGHT WINGERS are Anti-Union, but we're always open to someone new with good ideals no matter which end of the spectrum they fall.  Fucking Reagan... What an asswipe.  Anti-Union actor/President... you have to be kidding me.  Needless to say there was not much political debate happening in our house.  Phew.  But this made me ever more interested.

Last year was the first time I'd ever voted.  It was a proud moment for me.  My voting station was actually in a HOUSE in my neighborhood.  These nice folks opened their garage to a whole bunch of lefty voters in Santa Monica, CA.  It was awesome.  Vote "No on Prop 8" the signs read!  I felt like I was a part of something... Something special.  I had a chance to make a difference and I was taking it.  The line was around the block, but it moved along quite nicely.  Now these were real Americans.  People that wanted change so much they opened up the polls right next to the old man's tool collection.  I was loving my country on that day.

I'd always followed Presidential Elections for as long as I can remember.  My limited political knowledge is as follows...  I guess BUSH vs. DUKAKIS was the first one I actually recall.  It was 1988.  I was 7.  I specifically remember my brother having stickers on his closet door that read, "AMERICANS FOR BUSH!!!"  I'm pretty sure he didn't care about the race for President as much as he did for the race for real BUSH.  If anyone has seen the popular '80's flick "REVENGE OF THE NERDS" you know what I'm talking about.  If not, SCRAM.  You're on the wrong page.  "Are you ready for the sex girl!"  Love that song.  Sorry, that movie cracks me up.

As History would soon tell, GEORGE H.W. BUSH won the election.  It was the third term in a row we had a REPUBLICAN in office.  Dukakis blew it big time because of a convicted RAPIST/MURDERER named Willie Horton.  It's complicated political shit, but basically Dukakis vetoed a bill which would have stopped weekend furloughs for first degree murderers.  This, in turn, allowed citizen SCUMBAG (aka Horton) to go free for a couple days.  And sure enough, Horton went on a raping mission and assaulted the woman's boyfriend to place the cherry on top for good old Dukakis.  Although this happened in his first term as Governor of Massachusetts, it didn't matter.  He was screwed from the JUMP.  Bush's campaign talked about Horton nonstop, and in time even the hard core DEMOCRATS in my neighborhood thought Dukakis was a dipshit.

The next two elections in '92 and '96 were won by Democratic Candidate, and former Governor of Arkansas, BILL CLINTON.  He crushed in both elections.  This guy Clinton has had some life.  I mean shit... we all know about it.  The dude loves women.  Can you blame him?  From Gennifer Flowers to Monica BLEWCLINTSKY, to his ever ballsy and politically headstrong wife Hillary Rodham Clinton.  I remember watching the election of '96 in middle school.  Also the impeachment hearings were well covered at my High School in '98.

(Note: I hope Hillary is the First woman President after Barack's 8 years in office.  If Sarah Palin gets even close to the campaign trail, I may RUN... To CANADA.)

Obviously I wasn't able to vote during either term, but I followed him closely.  Clinton was a great ambassador for the country... still is.  People love the guy.  Blacks, Crackers, Asians, Europeans, (Illegal) Aliens, and Transforming Robots from outer space all have an affinity for him.  And you know what, so do I.  Perhaps the only person that doesn't like him is his wife, but she's still with him.  Political HOGWASH aside, he must be doing something right... if you know what I mean...

Bill had the country in good place.  The economy was flourishing.  People were happy.  I know we had troops in Bosnia and other parts of the world, but we weren't feeling an immediate HOME THREAT like we would in the years to come.  We didn't have hundreds of thousands of our boys and gals in IRAQ or AFGHANISTAN either.  The middle class was still alive.  Also on a completely unimportant note, America's favorite sports teams like the COWBOYS, BRAVES, and YANKEES were all doing well.  Even Clinton's Alma Mater, ARKANSAS, won a national championship in college hoops in 1994.  Things were looking up.

Then the shit hit the fan.  In December of 1998 the House of Representatives IMPEACHED Clinton because of his discretion with Monica Lewinsky.  The guy was a good President, yet we are trying to dethrone him when he sleeps around on his wife?  Sounds stupid to me.  Yeah he set a bad example when it came to marriage, but as a leader of the free world the guy was on point.  He was able to keep the country in tact throughout the proceedings.  He was eventually acquitted in February of 1999.  So the guy had his faults...  He likes cigars, BJ's and college hoops... and sometimes all at once, but hey, who doesn't?

When his term ended in 2000, his Vice President, Al Gore was on the campaign trail for the Presidency.  I thought Gore was a shoe in.  I know the RED STATES hated him because he's a wacky environmentalist, but can you blame the guy for trying to save the planet?  I sure as hell ain't doing it, but somebody has to.  Yeah, he wasn't the best speller or speaker for that matter, but he was effective at his job.  And who the hell knows if Global Warming is real.  It's hot sometimes, it's cold sometimes... whatever.  Whether I believe it or not, I tip my hat to the guy for trying to clean up this pollution ridden land.

Now the trouble with this election was Gore ran against George W. Bush, son of the previously mentioned 41st President, George H. W. Bush.  Republicans were hungry this time around.  They wanted one of their own back in the office almost as badly as I want green tea, a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup and an apple right now... well not that bad.  He was doomed from the start.  Republicans are fighters.  They know how to get what they want at any cost.  Historically, Democrats were not as willing.

So when the numbers came in on the night of the Election, it was close.  So close in fact, it was too close to call.  Fucking Florida.  This ever important state worth 25 ELECTORAL VOTES was wetting the bed.  They couldn't get their count right.  At the time Gore was leading in electoral votes 255 to Bush's 246.  If he took Florida, it was over.  It was imperative for either candidate to win this state in order to become President.  They both wanted it... BAD.    George's brother, Jeb, was the Governor of that damn state... you'd think they'd be able to get the count right... But the problem was it wasn't in the favor of George.

The Recount process began.  This voting tug of war went on for about a month.  It was a nightmare.  Florida's JACKASS Secretary of State, Katherine Harris, was all over the news.  She was in charge of this debacle.  Harris was constantly dolled up like a fucking RACCOON from Dallas, making a complete ass of herself.  Finally, she ended up denying revised recount totals from 4 different counties where Gore probably would have won.

That was the first year I was eligible to vote.  I was so pissed I didn't register.  I felt helpless.  It's not like my vote would have mattered since I lived in Maryland at the time, but regardless I watched in awe.  I wanted Gore to win with a vengeance.  That was when I realized...  Voting is important.  Apparently so is learning how to count.  You hear that Florida?  Gore was killing in the popular vote which is why everyone thought he'd win, but he desperately needed those last 25 electoral votes.  You fucked him... Royally.  Hey Mom and Dad, I think it's about time you guys got out of that snowbird state of DEMENTIA, and head west, or back north where people's heads aren't up their asses. 

Oh yeah, Bush won the next election as well.  He gently brushed his shoulders off when John Kerry tried to run against him in 2004.  The Republicans basically called him a pussy for opposing the war in Iraq.  Bush's war supporters came out and voted and...  That puppet was in office for another 4 years.

So what's the point of this whole bullshit History Lesson?  Well, when I voted last year; I was pumped about it.  I registered as a NONPARTISAN because I hate labels even though this one was better than others I've had pinned on me, like: MEATHEAD, Jock (which isn't really a knock), Dickhead, Lothario, and Shoe Whore.  I guess they're not so bad since they're all true.  I couldn't wait to vote.  I wanted to vote for a guy who made me feel good.  I wanted to vote for an articulate candidate.  I wanted a true LEADER.  And for the first time in years, I felt like we had one.   BARACK OBAMA.

Truthfully, people on the LEFT hated W so much they would have voted for Ronald McDonald if he ran.  Yeah George Jr. sucked as the leader of the free world, but I'll tell you what, I'd love to hang out with that guy.  I would love to know what is going on in that head of his.  Also, when he gave BARACK OBAMA a pound the day of his inauguration I got teary eyed and thought, "Fuck, that dude is ice... I wonder if he'd come over for a few beers?"  Maybe they could come over together.  Doubtful.

All I'm saying here is we have to support whoever our president is.  We can disagree with the guy, but if he makes a decision, there's not much we can do about it.  And now we have a guy in there trying his best to clean up the shit storm W left behind.  Let's give him a break.  Let's back him.  I voted for OBAMA.  I cried during his inaugural address.  It wasn't because he was black (although I do think the country did take a HUGE step in the right direction electing him).  It was because HE IS THE MAN.  That's right, I'm drinking the KOOL AID.  And I don't give a rat's ass if he's sneaking a smoke here and there as long as he's taking care of business... And I HATE smoking.

As far as my political affiliation goes, I find myself somewhere in the middle... Maybe leaning toward the left.  Let's put it this way... I hate HOLY ROLLERS and I HATE HIPPIES.  That sounds like the middle to me.  If you are against GAY MARRIAGE and ABORTION, you're just a stupid fuck.  Who cares about what other people are doing?  People need to start worrying about themselves and their own families instead of peeking into everyone else's business.  I mean who the fuck wants to get married anyway?  Yeah tax reform sucks, but why not take more from the wealthy folks instead of taking even amounts from everyone, including peasants like me.  It's just not fair.  And give the kids CONDOMS already.  It doesn't reduce the feeling that much boys.  Deal with it.  But it does reduce the ringing in your ears, which you'll have with a baby crying all hours of the night.  Fucking Jesus freaks have you leaning in the wrong direction.  I can't stand them.  Fine.  If you want to have two baby seats in the back of your Ford F150 parked in front of your trailer where you're having sex like a free-loving hippy; teach your kids the word of God.  So be it.  

Okay, you can breathe now.  I'm not sure what I've accomplished... Possibly nothing.  Just a free association writing exercise.  But you're probably dead already.  I am glad you tried and died while reading my horseshit PSYCHOBABBLE though.  So thanks.  And don't talk to me about Politics because I don't know shit about it.   Just make sure you vote when you have the chance... suckers.

 

I AM DISCIPLINED (PART 2)...

I'm continuing my list as promised back in May... Here are a few more rules I stick to.  We left off at 15, so moving along... Enjoy.

16.)  I'm what you might call... a hypochondriac.  Don't come near me when you have a COLD.  Don't come out of the bathroom throwing me a Hi-Five after you just built a LOG CABIN in my toilet.  If you do either of those things, I will be forced to spray you down with ANTIBACTERIAL LYSOL until you leave the premises.  

Yes, I carry hand sanitizer with me.  Yes, I'm the kind of fellow who washes his hands BEFORE and AFTER I water the flowers.   So, if you're feeling a tad sniffly, or you're throat is a little scratchy, do us both a favor and STAY THE FUCK IN YOUR OWN BARN.  Or if you just had a half hour meeting in my bathroom with THE NEW REPUBLIC; I better hear the sink running for at least 30 seconds after you've finished.  Otherwise grab a paper towel on the way out so you can use it to open the front door.  I don't want your poopy prints on my doorknob.  According to me, if you don't follow these instructions, you're just an asshole farm animal who has a complete disregard for other mammals.

17.)  I avoid going out and drinking on SCHOOL NIGHTS.  I need to be fresh at work in the morning or I'll be a danger to my cohorts.  Hey pal, if you drink every night, there's a name for that... It's called an ALCOHOLIC!  Get to a fucking MEETING already.  Check that... you're a Drunk, cause alcoholics go to meetings.  And stop calling me on Wednesdays... "MODERN FAMILY" is on ABC and I love that show.

18.)  I keep other people's private business to myself.  If someone confides in you, they chose you for a reason (although they probably shouldn't have) and you MUST respect that.  It's not that hard to keep a secret; just keep your mouth SHUT. 

If you think you're keeping a secret because you didn't tell anyone EXCEPT your roommate; you're an IDIOT.  Don't make exceptions with privacy, because the chances are he/she (or a he-she) already told 50 people.  Actually, I take that all back.  A word to the WISE...  There's no such thing as a secret.

19.)  I admit when something I do SUCKS.  I also welcome constructive criticism.  I don't hide behind my PRIDE (even though I am prideful).  It's annoying.  I only stick to my GUNS if I truly believe in my product.  So do yourself a SOLID and admit you've been in a shitty movie... or made one for that matter.  I know the ultimate goal here is to make a profit, but if the thing really blows, honesty just may help you.  

Admit you're a shitty writer.  Those poems you wrote on the index card turned into a Valentine for CHRISTI in 2nd grade were awful.  Why do you think she dated the DIRTWAD-NERD who got his ass kicked everyday in the schoolyard?  Cause he grew up to be Tom Clancy and you work at BURGER KING.

Admit you're a shitty METEOROLOGIST.  I know it's a guessing game, but it's pouring out and you said there wouldn't be a cloud in the sky, dumbass.  You had to know there was gonna be at least one cloud, right?

Admit you're a TERRIBLE parent.  Your kid is sitting at a bus stop by HIMSELF reading the Penthouse Forum, smoking Camels... and he's 9.  Great work.  Remind me why you had kids again?  Do the world a favor and work on being better at whatever it is you do or have yourself checked into a mental institution.

20.)  I don't AMES (pronounced AIMS) my friends.  Ames-ing is when you take a girl from right underneath your friend's nose... or simply cockblock.  David Ames is Tom Cruise's character's name in "Vanilla Sky".  I love that flick.  In the film, Cruise steals Jason Lee's character's date, Penelope Cruz, unintentionally (my ass, it's always intentional) right in front of him.  Chances are he never had her if she had a radar lock on his buddy's JUNK.  Sometimes you have to bite the bullet and LOCK IT UP if you want to keep your friends.

21.)  I don't think every GIRL on the planet wants to sleep with me.  Well, most do, but not all of them.  I hate dudes that think every chick wants to bang them.  Wake up pal... you're kidding yourself... And that jokes old.  You probably couldn't get laid in the Red Light District in Amsterdam with fistful of hundreds.

22.)  I don't leave dishes in the SINK.  I don't understand this at all.  Nine times out of ten the fucking dishwasher is right next to the sink, so what's the problem?  Unless your dishwasher is a tiny woman from HONDURAS and you're eagerly waiting for her to cross the boarder, rinse the damn dish off and put it in already you simple fuck.  So what you're saying is, you're too lazy to move your upper extremities, huh?  Then why are you in your room stroking your BIRD every chance you get?  Give me a break.  Clean up after yourself.  You're an adult.  Obviously this is directed at a certain someone, but he doesn't read this thing... so F him.

23.)  I simply will not butcher the English language.  I hate when others perform surgery on perfectly created words and phrases.  For example, all of these acronyms used to communicate over the computer or phone via text make me ILL.  Technology has made us dumber then we've ever been.  

LOL.  I HATE THIS ONE MORE THAN YOU KNOW.  Laugh out Loud.  Really, people?  I'll take HAHAHAHA over LOL anyday.

BTW.  By the Way I hate this one too.

WTF.  What the fuck is your problem?  Are you in that much of a rush that you can't spell the words out?  I'm sure you're so busy waiting to send your next text while driving.

FML.  Fuck my Life?  Stop.  Just stop it dimwits.  Kids shouldn't be allowed to have cell phones or computers until their 18.  They're making them illiterate, not clever.

24.)  Under no circumstance will I ever like NOTRE DAME FOOTBALL.  Even when they play USC or some other team I dislike with a passion, I can't find myself pulling for them.  I grew up in a predominantly Catholic neighborhood where everyone loved Notre Dame.  It was annoying as Hell; and I'm Irish Catholic.

Let me put it this way, If my Mother was the quarterback of ND's Football team, I would still be rooting for Navy.  If my son is a BLUE CHIP athlete; I will send him to TOLEDO if he gets any ideas about ND.

And I swear if Regis Philbin mentions the IRISH one more time, I'm going to throw my flat screen through the window.  The best thing to ever come out of ND... the movie "RUDY".  I just got choked up thinking about it.

25.)  I REFUSE to kiss anyone's ass (unless she's really hot).  I don't give a shit what show you're on.  I don't care if you're my only shot at getting a role in a film or my only chance to sign a book deal.  I will be me, always.  If you don't like it... Too God Damn bad.  Go find a LACKEY elsewhere.  I don't care how successful you are.  You're either an asshole, or not an asshole.  So don't go expecting me to work extra hard for your acceptance or friendship if you're more successful than me... Cause it won't be for long.  I have enough friends.

 

I AM A WALKER...

I walked everywhere.  I walked the tracks as a child to and from elementary and middle school.  My MOM, (who would have killed me if she new I was on the train tracks) used to call me a VAGABOND cause I was constantly wandering the streets of our neighborhood.   Man, I loved navigating those streets.  My many destinations via the pavement were: the movie theater (which I visited more often than the average bear), the grocery store for Mommy dearest, Angelo's Pizza, the Mall (Menlo Park), the Arcade, friend's houses, girlfriend's houses and the hardware store for the old man.  When most kids were riding their bikes... I was walking.  

It became my favorite pastime.  I looked forward to a good stroll.  I roamed the streets, walked through cemeteries, parks, and sometimes even backyards.  On foot was the way to go.  I feel it gave me a true sense of where I was from.  And now as an adult, I have no problem hitting the streets to get around.

Since we're a particularly LAZY society many people have a problem with walking.  Maybe that's the reason a great deal of the population is HEFTY.  That, and there are fast food dumps on every corner.  It's sickening how spoiled we are... How everything is so easily accessible.  If you wanted to be fat back in the days of the Neanderthals, you had to work for that SHIT.  You had to kill more animals and raise more crops just to be able to have an excessive meal.  Looking at these starving kids in 3rd World Countries it's easy to figure out why they're so skinny... Yes they're poor, but there isn't a McDonald's right around the corner and they're willing to walk 30 miles for a CRACKER.  I doubt some kid from Glendale is about to walk 30 feet... for anything.

So what's with all this walking business, you ask?  Other than my affinity for the outdoors... I'm not quite sure.  Perhaps I was trying to prove some kind of POINT to myself or to those surrounding me.  And if there was a point, I don't know what it could've been other than showing I was willing to do almost anything to get somewhere.  It's silly I know, because I'm pretty sure no one was looking.

I went to boarding school where walking was the mainstay.  There was no need to drive anywhere.  You walked from your dorm to class, practice, and dinner... so my DISTANCE walking days appeared to be over.  I thoroughly enjoyed those days afoot on that beautiful campus, but they flew by and before I knew it, I graduated.   

At some juncture in college, I couldn't afford to have car.  So my roommates (who were also great friends of mine) used to drive me all over... to class, to bars, to practice... Wherever.  One day after class, I called my apartment from a payphone on campus (yes a payphone, I didn't have a cell yet) to ask for a ride home.  When one of my roomies answered he quickly said, "Hang on, Can anyone pick this guy up?"  What he didn't realize was I could hear everything that was about to be muttered.  I then overheard my other roommate in the background calling me a "Pain in the ASS".  I hung up before he had the chance to say anything else... and walked home.  It wasn't that far, about 2 miles, but from there on out I never asked for another ride... Anywhere.

Finally I was making a point.  I thought, "FUCK THEM."  In retrospect, I don't blame them.  It wasn't their responsibility to be driving me around.  They were doing ME a favor.  To this day, I'm still friends with those guys, but the truth was I didn't want to burden anyone.  Therein was the rebirth of my WANDERING... Back to my roots.

When I first moved to California, I got a landscaping job in 2 days.  During the first week of work, I cracked a tooth.  Believe you me, that SHIT was painful.  I was miserable for 3 days before I said anything.  I called a local DENTIST and made an appointment for the next day.  I asked my boss if I could have the day off;  he was fine with it.

Since I didn't have a car yet, I needed a ride.  What I neglected to mention was... I was staying in this very nice family's guest house.  They took me in for no reason other than they liked me off of a first impression and wanted to help me out.  For that reason alone, I will be forever grateful.  Oh, and they didn't even know me.  So I told them about my problem and the LADY of the household volunteered her assistant to drive me the following day.  She said, "She'll drop you off... then call either of us and we'll come get you."  I said, "Are you sure?"  She replied, "Absolutely."

The next morning, her assistant dropped me at the Dentist and said, "Good Luck."  I simply replied, "Thanks.  I'll call you guys in a little while."  She was already halfway out of the parking lot.  Inside, the Dentist saw me immediately and explained I needed to have this taken care of today, it would take a few hours, and I would need a lot of local anesthetics and maybe some gas, so I probably shouldn't be driving.  I then called the lady of the house to let her know and she said, "No Problem.  Just call afterward and somebody will come get you."  I thought, "Man these people are nice."

After an hour and a half of DRILLING MISERY in my mouth, I called the house from the waiting room.  No answer.  I called the assistant next.  No answer.  I then walked outside, called the house again, still no answer.  My final call was to the Madam's cell phone to which my call was "Forwarded to an automatic messaging system".  We all know what that means.  They were DONALD DUCKING me.

Now I hope you realize... I HAD NO IDEA WHERE I WAS.  I had just moved to California less than a week prior to this incident.  I had only been to Santa Barbara and Hollywood, neither of which were anywhere near my current 20 (Location).  I had no cash for a cab.  I was only carrying my Debit card to pay for the Dentist and I figured a cab wouldn't accept it.  At this point, I was so PISSED off I didn't know what to do.  All I knew was I had to head WEST... toward the OCEAN.  So yet again, I started WALKING.  Luckily I had a sense of direction cause my Dad was a Truck Driver and I was smart enough to remember some of the street names. 

Picture this... I had a JESUS-LIKE beard and crazy long hair.  I looked like Barry Gibb (of Bee Gees fame) on STEROIDS.  During the first leg of my walk, I was in a lower-middle class area but I knew I was headed to one of the most affluent areas in all of LA... So I had to keep moving toward the money.  Did I mention this trek was uphill and it was HOT AS HELL?  Well it was.

A few hours into my journey it got dark... fast.  I was woozy and my mouth was swollen.  It felt like there was a softball in my trap.  I almost got pulled over twice... once I was in the nice area.  I'd never seen security cars in a neighborhood before.  They were all over the place.  Cops too...  Just patrolling the area.  The amount of security was absurd.  They were all eyeing me up.  I'm thinking it was because I had my shirt off and wrapped around my head.  Yeah that's it. I was sweating my ASS off and I looked like JOHNNY JIHAD... or a homeless guy that had no business being in a wealthy neighborhood.

Once I heard the OCEAN I knew I was close.  Soon after it was before my eyes.  I had reached the coastline.  I knew where I was!  A feeling of JUBILATION rushed through my veins.  It was better than winning the State Championship... well almost.  1 mile left.  Then, my phone rang.  It was the Mrs.  She asked me, "What happened to you?"  I told her I couldn't get a hold of her and decided to walk.  She thought I was nuts and wanted to pick me up on her way home.  By now I had come all this way; I had to finish what I started.  I said, "No thanks".

I admired that coastline more than anything I'd ever seen.  It was so beautiful; I wanted to cry.  Maybe it was because there were rocks in my shoes and I was about to pass out, but at that very moment I didn't have a care in the world.  I took that last mile in.  I walked slowly.  When I finally got up the driveway (which was a mountain) in the pitch black night, I saw the light on in the kitchen of the main house.  The KING of the castle saw me shirtless and drenched in my own fluids.  He called out the window and invited me in.  I told him the story.  He laughed.  Then he offered me some dinner and wine (all I wanted was about 10 gallons of water) and apologized for the mishap.  He couldn't believe what I'd done.  He said, "Do you know how far that was?"  I had no idea.  It was 15 miles.  I slept like a baby for a week.

What the fuck was I doing?  Who did I think I was?  AGAIN... What was I trying to PROVE?  All I proved was that I was an idiot for not going to an ATM and calling a cab.  But you know what FUCK THAT.  I needed to save every dollar I had since I just paid over 1000 bucks to have my GRILL fixed.  I try to believe people are all innately good, and they truly want to help you, but as I've said before, you can't rely on anyone but yourself.  If you want to get somewhere, get off your ass and hit the pavement.  That's what shoes were made for, weren't they?

So you never know where walking the streets may take you, or what you might learn on those same streets.  You're navigating, so choose your path wisely.  I remember one particular day in college walking home through a foot of snow, I thought to myself, "I can't believe I have to do this!  I'm walking everywhere; this is ridiculous!  I'm somebody God Damn it... or nobody."  Truth is, I didn't have to do that... I wanted to.  I wanted to be alone.  And walking can be good for you... if you know where you're headed.  After that long, cold, 2 mile walk to my apartment, I stumbled through the door and kicked my boots off.  I realized you didn't have to walk, or go to college, or be a superstar to be somebody.  I already was somebody.  I just didn't know who that was.  So I laid down on the couch to mull over my situation and opted for a quick power nap instead... And I woke up 2 years later in my brother's basement.  You can walk anywhere you want, but if you don't know where you're going, you always wind up in the same place.  NOWHERE.

I AM A DREAMER...

I remember walking home from school on the TRAIN TRACKS like it was yesterday.  On a Fall afternoon leaves fell perfectly from the trees on both sides of the tracks like cartoon snowflakes from the sky.  I could see ahead for miles.  I swore those tracks were never ending.  Alone, balancing on the rails, then falling into the middle and stepping over every other railroad tie, the DAYDREAMING began.  I felt as if I was in an alternate universe.

I was only 12, but that's when the opportunities seemed endless.  At that age you have no idea what you'll be doing with your life and that was okay, but I still thought about it.  Would I go to college?  Would I see the world?  Was I going to be a blue collar laborer like my father?  Maybe.  Or would I be different?  I didn't know.  But I did believe I was going to play for the JETS, retire after 10 years and 2 Super Bowls rings, become the Governor of New Jersey, and eventually become the President of the United States.  Not too shabby for a kid from the TERRACE.  It was so easy to escape back on those tracks.

While I was in school I thought, "All I have to do here is actually LEARN something."  That shouldn't have been too difficult.  I mean that's what we go to school for, isn't it?  I figured if I read as many books as possible, played sports and followed my parent's good examples it would be easy to get out of here.  But nothing is ever easy... Even at 12.

English was always my favorite subject in school.  I hated math.  My 4th grade teacher always smiled when she handed me back one of my papers.  She would say, "You should write as much as you can."  Let's just say that made me happy because the smiles were few and far between when it came to math tests.  She actually gave me my first journal.  It was one of those BLACK AND WHITE composition notebooks.  You know, the ones that cost 99 cents at Rite Aid.  Everyone in the class got one.  When she handed it to me she said, "You can write in this whenever you want; it doesn't have to be just for assignments."  To this day when I want to stop writing, I think of that moment.  Although she was speaking to the entire class, I felt like she was only talking to me.  So I started writing.

I didn't really understand writing in a journal at first, but I still wrote in it every day outside of class... In secret of course.  I thought only girls wrote in journals and DIARIES.  God Forbid anyone found out I was keeping a diary.  I would have had to kick their ass... IN FRONT OF EVERYONE to prove my manliness.  I know now none of that matters, but keeping up your REP in Gym class and the Cafeteria was important back then.  My motivation for keeping a journal was so I would have the ability to look back in 20 years and see where I was at that exact moment.  For some reason that was extremely appealing to me.

My only REGRET is I didn't write all the time.  I didn't keep it up.  I took too many breaks.  I slacked off.  I was either busy playing sports, watching movies, or hanging out with girls and friends.  Maybe I was writing things on bathroom walls and closets with permanent markers or spray painting tags on local bridges on the Parkway, but I can't recall.  It took a huge break-up in college with the love of my life to get me back on the writing TRAIN.  Even though I was sad and depressed, writing saved me.  And since that moment, I've been making note of everything.  A lot has happened in the interim, but now the memories are much clearer cause I wrote them down.

Recently, I've felt like people are only reading things that are FUNNY.  FUNNY blogs.  Funny articles.  Some of these people don't even read FUNNY things.  They watch them... On YOUTUBE.  Technology is making us LAZY.  I hate it.  And what the hell is even funny anymore?  Hasn't it all been covered?  Silly topics about exploiting others and being a dickhead have been documented.  Seeing Jesus Christ's face on a stone in Argentina... Been done.  Reading about your favorite rapstar making an ass out himself at the MTV music awards has been covered.  What's left?  How about PURE stories.  Where have they gone?  I want to see something ORIGINAL... That's if there's anything left to write about.  Well, I believe there is.  Most people write to get attention, not cause they have to.  I think I have to.

So instead of looking back at tender age of 28 wondering how the HELL I got here... I know.  Countless days lost due to daydreaming.  Good times.  Bad times.  Births.  Deaths.  Friends and lovers have come and gone like pigeons from the rooftops.  My glory days playing sports have vanished.  I haven't seen those train tracks in years. Come and gone soon all will be lost.  But one thing never dies... A real DREAM.  A goal.  A reason to work hard.  A reason to move on.  Something to look forward to.  The written word.

I AM CAUGHT...

In the BLACK HOLE known as a "SLOW WORK DAY".  There's no life here.  No oxygen.  No one I can call.  No response from the insurance bastards about my car.  Everything is moving in SLOW MOTION.  No one can SAVE me.  Not even BACTERIA could survive on a day like today.  I feel like I'm the only living thing on the planet right now.  It's comparable to how it felt to be in last period back in school.  It's 2:59pm on a Tuesday and I'm counting the seconds until that final bell rings.  Remember those days?  Man, I hated LAST PERIOD.

Staring at the clock is a DISEASE for which there is no cure.  I think I'd rather have IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome).  At least then I'd be in the bathroom passing both wind and time.  I always thought once I finished my schooling I would never again have to stare at a clock waiting for things to end.  Boy, was I wrong.  

If there's a clock on the wall at your place of employment, or unemployment... You're pretty much FUCKED.  Nowadays all computers have clocks on them, so we're screwed.   Those SMUG clocks in the upper right hand corner just winking at you all day with that shit eating grin... Makes you want to commit a felony.  I don't remember computers having the time on them when I was playing Oregon Trail in my 2nd Grade Computer Class.  Sorry Mom and Dad... I know you have nothing to compare this to, but I'm pretty sure your childhood involved people teaching you how to make fire and use the SUN as a clock.  Thanks guys that was really helpful.

If you regularly wear a watch, you're classy, but you're DOOMED.  Looking at that thing a billion times a day would break my neck... Or be great exercise.  A watch is only effective when you're at a party or a bar.  In that case you can check it to see how much time you have left to make a move... On either another human being to your liking or on to a late night food joint of your choice.  Honestly, I don't know how FLAVOR FLAV hasn't committed suicide with that fucking ridiculous CLOCK around his neck.  I guess he can't see the time unless he looks in the mirror.  And in the shape that dude's in; I'd strongly recommend he didn't.

Have you ever felt like you'd done a million things at work, then looked at the clock, and the day isn't even close to HALF over with?  I have.  Damn, that's frustrating.  This is when you usually begin to question yourself.  For example, "WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?"  "Do I really work here?"  "How OLD am I again?"  "Am I really losing my hair?"  Then you start to float off a bit and other questions rush into your head.  "Why does that one BUM walk up and down Melrose swinging at air and screaming at the top of his lungs?"  "Where is his family?"  "Is that going to be me in 2 years?"  "Maybe.  I hope not.  Definitely not.  Definitely a possibility."  And "Why do I work in a gallery/toy shop and look like a LUMBERJACK?"  

How about the flip side of that coin... When you actually have to get something done?  You sit down to start a project, start working hard, and all of a sudden...  Take a peek at the clock... TIME'S UP!  So how should we do things and do them efficiently?  Quickly?  Slow and Patiently?  Rushed?  How the fuck should I know?  I'm just a pawn in a shitty board game.  All I do know is one must pace himself in order to be successful.  At the same time I recommend getting on your HORSE because opportunities disappear as fast as line of BLOW in front of Kelsey Grammer's face during the CHEERS years.  That rhymed.  Time is the bane of my existence.

You know when else this happens?  When you're doing something you enjoy.  When you're spending time with someone you actually like (i.e. Winnie Cooper, Marissa Cooper).  When you're at a party.  When you're at the beach.  Time moves at the speed of light during leisure activities.   That sucks.  I wish it would move at the pace of the Local Ice Cream Truck.  Then again, I hear that bell, run to grab a few bucks and by the time I get outside even that slow ass truck gets away.  I can still hear the bell though.  I want a God Damned Ice Cream sandwich!  See, that's time fucking with me.

Time is NEVER on your side.  When you're doing what it is you're supposed to be doing with your life; you want time to SLOW DOWN.  You don't want to MISS anything.  You don't want to RUSH.  Time doesn't need to fly because you want to EMBRACE where you are and what you're doing.  It's how you should feel when you're with someone you want to spend your life with.  It's how you feel when you visit your family (Well my family).  Sometimes you have to remind yourself of your PURPOSE.  What you're here to do.  And if you don't know quite yet, it'll come to you... in (that scary word) TIME.  So for me, it's TIME to SHIT, or get off the POT... Because in my experience, it's better to have tried and failed, then not to try at all... And in the meantime (I think I heard the bell... Last period is over), I'm going to disable the time feature on my laptop and rip that fucking CLOCK off of the wall.