I AM A NEW YORK JETS FAN...

and have been for as long as I can remember.  Do you know what that's like?  I doubt it.  Let me explain... and if you don't know anything about sports, or even like them, that's weird, but don't you think it's about time you did?

The Jets, historically, are a one-hit wonder and have been flirting with mediocrity ever since.  So being a JETS fan is kind of like... Hmm... Let's say you are a huge Jack Nicholson fan after his OSCAR winning performance in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" and then he re-routes his career to do late night SKINEMAX flicks.  It would be hard to stick with him, right?  Unless you were a 13 year old boy with cable in your room, wondering why they keep showing that dude from Cuckoo's ASS.  Well maybe that was a bad comparison...  Maybe it's more like being an "Ace of Base" fan.  They come out with this song, "THE SIGN" (love that track by the way) and not one hit follows.  Everyone thought they would be the next ABBA; it just never happened. 

Coming from the greater New York area has not helped my confidence through the years.  The New York FOOTBALL GIANTS have won 3 Super Bowls during my lifetime and lost 1.  The JETS... 0.  The Jets haven't even been to one.  They won it long ago when being a hippy was still cool.  Needless to say, I was not alive.  And when it comes to BASEBALL, most Jets fans are METS fans, not YANKEE fans.  If you know anything about baseball, this hasn't been an easy ride either.  The Mets won the World Series once in 1986, and were later waxed by their cross town rivals in a 5 game Series in 2000.  The Yanks have been to the Series 7 times since I was born, winning on 4 of those trips.  Those fucking PINSTRIPES get you every time.

Before I was born (long before), the Jets were HOLLYWOOD.  The JETS were COOL.  They had BROADWAY Joe Namath.  This guy was the coolest alcoholic ever.  He was wearing mink coats on the sidelines and flashy shoes.  He slept with actresses and super-models.  And most importantly, he played the game with a certain SWAGGER that could not be paralleled at the time.  He predicted that the JETS would win the Super Bowl back in 1968, and they did just that.  What a MASHER.  We haven't had a Superstar at the helm, well, since last year.

Last year they did everything they could to get perennial ALL PRO and legendary Quarterback, Brett Favre, in a trade.  It looked like the best move ever at first, but it didn't pan out.  The Jets missed the playoffs, Favre retired, but I still LOVED the move.  They were willing to do anything to WIN... and win right now.

Moving on... Spring time.  The flowers are blooming.  Love is in the air.  At the end of every April there is a little event known as the NFL DRAFT.  And on draft day, I am forced to hold my breath throughout the entire first round.  This is not an easy task when you are drinking and BBQing.  The JETS struggles in this round have equalled Britney's attempts to get full custody of her kids... basically a miserable, no win situation.  Over the years the JETS passed up greats like Dan Marino and Warren Sapp for the likes of Ken O'Brien and Kyle Brady.  I bet you've never heard of the last two... well if you love the Jets you have.   

This Spring the JETS came out swinging.  They traded the kitchen sink to get a QB from USC named Mark Sanchez.  Back in the day this would have looked like an O'Brien nightmare (who wasn't that bad or great), but this guy was from USC, not UC DAVIS.    I have no idea what kind of pro player this guy will turn out to be, but honestly, I don't care.  He's a proven winner.  All I know is that they made a BALLSY move, not a STUPID one.  The last couple of years they have made some smart picks with hopes of building a team from the ground up.  They drafted Running Back Shonn Greene from IOWA in the second round after another trade and then got this 6'6, 325 lb MADMAN, Matt Slauson, from Nebraska and that was it... 3 picks.  I like what I see.

So who knows what's in store for the GANG GREEN this year; regardless, I will be sticking with them no matter what.  I won't be hating like those sadistic Philly fans (DB's, Steele, Priz).  I'm looking forward to an exciting season for the JETS and JACK NICHOLSON's next movie... let's just hope it's not on after 11pm on Cinemax. 

I AM SUPER LOUD ON THE PHONE...

In the privacy of my own home.  Even then, I don't go out onto my front porch and scream into my phone about how much I loved the JETS draft picks.  These assholes out there are doing it in line at the SUPER MARKET.  Why do you have to be so LOUD?  

Nobody gives a shit what you're talking about.  Don't laugh and yap on your cell about how "cool" your night is going to be (with your Natty Light drinking pal on the other end) in line at Banana Republic.  YOU ARE NOT THAT IMPORTANT.  This drives me to the brink of insanity.  Are you the head of Homeland Security?  Are you the Prince of Persia?  Are you Brad Pitt?  If not, tone it down, pal.  I should have added this to my personal space entry cause if your NOISE is invading my area, I want to drink a HEMLOCK cocktail right after I KARATE chop you in the neck.

Cell phones RULE our culture.  They pretty much run our lives.  It's quite sad actually.  We don't have any privacy.  People can reach you anywhere at anytime with these damn cell phones.  If you take a little field trip to a local mall or simply walk down any MAIN street in America... every other person is talking on their phone.  It's crazy.  Can't we just go for a walk without someone bothering us?  Nope.  I guess you can leave your phone at home,  but no one does cause we don't want to miss out on anything.  It's because cell phones are more ADDICTING than Heroin... or Parliament Lights.

I'm trying to remember what it was like before we had these pocket-sized drill sergeants.  When I was a kid, my folks got us a separate phone line in the house.  My brother and I were so excited to never have to worry about MOM picking up the phone while we were in the middle of whispering sweet nothings to our girlfriends.  It was amazing.  Now, I don't even have a HOUSE PHONE.  Do people still have those?  My Mom does... without call-waiting of course.

My cell phone is always with me and sometimes I want to beat the SHIT out of it...  especially when I'm in the car and that sucker rings.  It makes me nuts.  I have one of those headphones that you connect to the phone and it's never plugged in when it rings.  I never want to pick it up with my hand because it's illegal and I refuse to use the BLUE TOOTH thingy.  Personally, I want to SLAP everyone in the face with a leather pair of ISOTONERS that has one in their ear... Salesmen in particular.

How about this "Hands Free" Law, which states that you cannot hold your phone up to your ear while driving, nor can you text.  I'm so glad they passed this law, cause NOBODY fucking follows it.  Driving to work in the morning, I see these cell phone VIGILANTES all over the freeway.  Everyone is chatting away, not focusing on the road... running over bottle caps and babies.  I'm thinking, "Who the HELL are these morons talking to at 7am?"  Nobody I know is even awake.  Maybe I'm the only idiot who follows the law in my car, but I know as soon as I answer the phone and put it up to my ear... I WILL get pulled over.

Life used to be so simple... We had HOUSE phones and people could only reach you when you were at HOME... No Jackasses were walking around with that stupid JETSON-LIKE thing in their ear... No LOUD talkers in line at CVS... No dogs wearing sweater vests and cooler shoes than me walking next to their collagen filled mommies with cell phones super glued to their faces...

So the next time your phone rings and you are in public; be considerate of those around you.  Don't drop F BOMBS near a nice lady and her 4 year old in line at the movie theater.  Don't talk about how wasted you were last night in front of an 80 year old man filling his prescription of CIALIS at Rite-Aid.  Do us all a favor... ignore the call.  If you must pick up; tell your stupid butt-buddy you'll call him back.  If it's an emergency, take the call, but excuse yourself... nobody wants to hear your business... especially when it's about the nice guy you met last night that's banging a different girl right now.  You're life is just not that EXCITING.  If it was, I'd be reading about it in the NEW YORK TIMES or PEOPLE MAGAZINE, not listening to it in line with basket full of groceries.

 

I AM LIVING MY LIFE...

the way I want to live it.  I couldn't always say that.  Could you?  I used to subscribe to notion that doing what others expected of me and staying close to my ROOTS were the keys.  But the keys to what?  Happiness?  Success?  Sanity?  Probably not.

I grew up in a town that was hard to leave.  People were very close to their friends and FAMILY.  Everybody always talked about leaving, but never actually did.  It was as if nobody loved it there, but everyone was AFRAID to leave.  I, on the other hand, actually did love it there... and still do.  

Although my bond with this place was very strong, I knew I had to leave at a very young age.  It just wasn't something that you shared with everyone.  I didn't have the guts to tell my PARENTS I wanted to escape even though it had nothing to do with them.  I would have been mortified if I had told my big BROTHER I'd rather book a guest spot on "How I Met Your Mother" instead of us coaching at NC State together (although that would have been pretty cool too).

If I tried to tell people that I was moving to California when I was young, they would have laughed.  If I would have told them I wanted to be a writer, or an actor, they would have said, "It's good to have dreams."  But if I would have wanted to be a cop or a teacher everyone would've said, "Now those are good jobs."

Hard working people think any job that gives you insurance and a steady paycheck is a good job.  And you know what, it's not their fault... they don't know any better.  Anyhow, can you blame them?  Waiting tables until you sell your first script at 40 sounds like a nightmare for a parent and ME.  And some of these blue collar professions are great.  They're respectable, honest jobs.  But, what about the ARTS? 

In my experience of middle class America people don't believe in the arts.  Your 3rd grade teacher might have, but the other members of the PTA will strongly disagree.  They want you to focus on Reading, Geography, Science, and Arithmetic.  These subjects are important too, but so are music, dancing, acting, and drawing.  The arts give us this sense of humility that you just can't get from knowing the CAPITOLS of all 50 states (which I know by the way).  

I remember one time in Middle School getting in trouble for clowning around in class.  The teacher said to me, "You're a real comedian, huh?"  "Yes" I replied.  "Save it for the big screen pal" he said.  I said, "Maybe I will."  As he walked away he said, "that's some fantasy world you live in my friend."  And I thought... I'm not your fucking friend and what a great idea... the big screen.  I'll show that DICK.

As I watched a good friend of mine guest STAR on a popular show on NBC this evening, I realized... this is it man.  This is the path I chose.  It's going to be hard, but FUCK it.  I know if I had stayed on my original path to be a teacher and a coach I would have been at home watching that same show thinking "this could be me."  Instead I watched my friend proudly and admirably and felt even closer to where I want to be.

I know where I am. I know where I come from.  I know my family and love them very much.  I know I miss them everyday.  I know they thought it was strange when I wanted to leave, but in a way I was doing it for THEM, not just ME.  I've never forgotten what they've done for me and I want them to know I will be taking my ROOTS with me forever.  

I never thought working in film or becoming a writer were real options.  Those professions were only obtainable in a fantasy world.  A world in which I now live.  Thanks teach.

I AM STARTING TO THINK...

that men should pee sitting down.  Whenever you go into a bathroom and there is PISS all over the seat, it's always a man's fault.  Are we so lazy that we can't even pick up the damn seat to take a leak?  Think about it for a second... Men pee standing up.  During this process, a nice bacteria filled mix of water and urine splashes up onto the floor, the rim of the bowl, underneath the seat and even a little onto your new kicks.  If you leave the seat down and start pissing, it's a cleaning nightmare and even worse for the person that has to go after you.  If you were sitting down none of this would ever happen.

The issue of a man putting the toilet seat down when there is a woman in the house would be no longer.  Your significant other would never fall in when she gets up to pee in the middle of the night.  You will never have to worry about pissing in 6 different directions after sex or when you wake up in the morning.  You will never run into your bathroom when you have the BUBBLE GUTS and sit down on a wet seat again.  If we just sat down to pee...

The thing that troubles me most about peeing while standing is what public bathrooms look like.  It always looks like some dude with a 16 inch WANG was shooting his firehose all over the place.  What if you have to go #2?  Basically you're fucked, unless you have a bottle of MR. CLEAN in your pocket or some anti-bacterial wipes on hand.  Are women's public restrooms this dirty?  I sure hope not.  If so, maybe they have somebody in there peeing while standing up... I'd hate to be the one taking that girl home at the end of the night.

I spent a few months living and working in New York with a close friend that always peed sitting down.  Yes, this is a man... a grown ass man.  He insisted that everyone who went to the bathroom in his house had to be sitting.  Male or female, #1 or #2, it didn't matter.  He used to knock on the door, "You better be sitting down doing whatever it is you're doing in there."  I thought it was a bit weird at first, but eventually I totally understood him.  His bathroom was immaculate.  What a genius idea...  Dudes sitting down to take a piss!  So the whole time I was with him, while we were traveling around the country to promote our film, I picked up the habit of sitting while I peed.  And no matter where we were, I did it... and it felt nice... quite natural actually.

For a while after I returned to the left coast, I kept up this new, fun habit.  That Halloween, I had a party at my house.  I only had one bathroom at the time, so I was concerned with the cleanliness of my (unisex for the night) bathroom.  I have this rule about my bathroom... If you are a dude, and in MY house and we know each other, I can come into MY bathroom whenever the hell I want.  I don't care if you are showering, draining the weasel or taking the BROWNS to the SUPER BOWL... I want to be able to come in.  I know it sounds weird, but if I want to shower and you are pissing, I won't bother you... I'll just walk right by.  Or if I want a cleaning product from under the sink, I am coming in.  So if you don't want me in there, lock the door.

Halfway through the party I had to piss.  I saw one of my boys walk into the bathroom.  He was in there for a few minutes and I had to PEE bad.  At this point I was ready to hop into the shower to relieve myself.  So I give a little knock, "Yo, I'm coming in."  "Come on in" my boy said.  I walk in and what is he doing... STANDING UP AND PISSING WITH THE SEAT DOWN!  I wanted to choke him to death.  I go, "What the fuck are you doing?"  He says, "Taking a leak."  I say, "Pick the Damn seat up you scumbag... This isn't a TRUCK STOP!"  "My bad... I was just being lazy," he said.  I immediately banned him from using my bathroom for the rest of the night.  He was sentenced to pissing outdoors.  

I learned 2 things that night of the party... Even your friends can be inconsiderate assholes and I'd rather stop at an EXXON station bathroom off of the New Jersey Turnpike than sit down and pee at that guy's house.

Ahh...  Men sitting down while peeing.  What a great world this could be.  I can hear the birds chirping now...  Cleaner public restrooms.  No more pee on the walls in your bathroom.  No more arguments about who left the seat up.  No more sitting on wet seats.  No more pee on your feet... unless you get stung by a jellyfish.  I need to get back into this habit.  I wish this would've been the new trend for men, instead of that God Damned Faux-Hawk dudes are wearing these days.  Sitting down to piss is so much cooler.  It takes time and patience.  It's worth it though.  If you ever have to pee really bad, you should sit down and try it.  It's like nirvana... and you don't even have to wipe!  You could sit there forever.  No extra drops that you forgot to shake out end up in your undies.  Everything's in the bowl where it belongs...  And your bathroom will never look like a stall in Camden Yards ever again.

I AM A SALESMAN...

but apparently not a very good one.  In a city where people live and die by selling themselves and anything else they can get their hands on, I better step my game up.  And for you other swindlers out there, how about you get your hands out of your pockets, stop reaching for your business cards and sell me something I can use for once... a STRIPPER pole would be nice.  People are always selling something...  Shoes, cars, financial advice, stocks, bonds, office equipment and more importantly their souls.

How does one decide to become a salesman?  Maybe when you were 8, your lemonade stand grossed the most capital on the block... Or when you were 13, you sold the most SNICKERS bars for your little league baseball team's fund-raiser... Or when you were in college, you convinced the most women to sleep with you, doubtful...  Or even better, you could bullshit your way out of any situation known to man.  But, like my Dad always said, "You can't bullshit and bullshiter, and son, I ain't buying it."

I never understood the whole DOOR to DOOR thing.  Historically, this method of sales was used so people had access to the same products available at large discount stores that they might not be able to find nearby.  The sales company, traditionally, is supposed to call beforehand to let you know they plan on paying you a visit.  Really?  People actually invited some wacky salesperson over their house?  I don't know about you, but as soon as I hear a sales call, I hang up before the person even completes a sentence.  And how the hell did they get my number when it's unlisted?  Some SNAKE over at the phone company probably sold me down the river.  With cell phones being such a big part of our everyday lives, they can now catch you anywhere.  That sucks, but luckily the whole door to door thing is not practiced all that often anymore... well at home it's not, but in the workplace... forget about it.

These clowns always come into my place of employment with their shirts tucked into their dockers, cheap shoes, and too much cologne and to their chagrin, I'm ready for them.  I usually say, "Not interested" before they can get both feet through the door.  Some leave defeated with their heads down and others are like a dog with a frisbee... they never let go.  And the ones that sneak in without me noticing are always close talkers.  They try and get as up close and personal as they possibly can.  As we've already learned, this is a huge problem for me.  I hate close talkers just about as much as I hate Elizabeth Hasselbeck.  I mean, do you really need to be sitting on my lap to sell me a steam cleaner for my carpet?

What I've come to understand is that it doesn't matter if you look like you're in the market for a new set of steak knives... or if you're ready to find someone new to manage your portfolio... or if your floors are that fucked up.  It makes no difference who you are because they are trying to sell this craziness to everyone.  You (the consumer) are not special.  You are a target and 90% of the time we don't want what they're selling.  That's why they're coming to us and not the other way around.  They are trying to force feed an already spoiled enough nation some more horseshit that we probably don't need.  Why don't they come around with girl scout cookies?   The world would be a much nicer place and I would buy them every time, especially SOMOAS.  Or wouldn't it be nice if a salesperson came in with some athletic socks, boxer briefs, or even a wide arrangement of beanies for my extremely large head?  I would be sold before they even got to their pitch.

Truthfully, I don't know how we do it.  Sales has to be the worst field of work on the face of the Earth.  I think I'd rather be an ASTRONAUT... and reentering the Earth's atmosphere scares the ever loving shit out of me.  So many people I know are in sales.  It's an important profession.  I do in fact respect some salesmen.  Yes we need cars, knives, and all that other shit, just don't push it.  Be nice, but not too nice.  We're not friends, so don't act like one.  I feel it's extremely important to be yourself... even as a salesmen.  Especially when you are selling some poor schlep a new carpet cleaner so that he can remove his wife's cat's piss stains... Be yourself.  If you do so, he just may buy it, but be careful... he may drink the shit to kill himself... or just feed it to the cat.

There's irony here.  I work in sales, so I am somewhat trashing myself, but I never push anything on anybody.  I also want to work in the film industry where we are forced to sell ourselves like $50 hookers in Atlantic City.  What most salespeople don't understand is that they are probably selling their product to another person that works in the same field.  My point is... Everyone is a salesperson.  You can't bullshit a bullshitter so don't lose your integrity just to move a product...  especially if the product is YOU.  I just refuse to lose sight of who I am and what I stand for.  If you don't like my writing, my acting, the art I'm trying to sell, or who I am as a human being... don't let the DOOR hit you in the ass.

I AM NOT BITTER...

Just a little salty.  I have a great outlook on life.  I love watching bums at intersections begging for food in their Veteran's jackets.  I love hearing about the newest terror threat on the good old U.S. of A.  I love that there are more people out there reading the BIBLE than "The Catcher in the Rye".  I love reading about a recent hate crime on some poor high school kid that was beaten to death by classmates because he came out of the CLOSET.  I love driving down the freeway and noticing a sign flashing "CHILD ABDUCTION" "WHITE TOYOTA CAMRY" "License Plate # SCUMBAG1".  Criminals are always driving a Toyota Camry.  It really must be the most popular car in America... at least for pederasts and kidnappers it is.  

Recently, it has been brought to my attention that I am a CYNIC.  I can't help that there are a great deal of assholes out there.  If disliking people that are phony, inconsiderate, and selfish makes me cynical, then so be it.  It doesn't sound like such a bad title to me.

I left a bar the other night with 4 friends after a couple of beers and some good conversation.  While we were walking back to the car, a cab flew by with a bunch of dudes in it.  A guy screamed out the window, "FUCKING FAGGOTS!!!"  Mind you, I was with 4 guys and 1 girl, but none of us were wearing ASSLESS chaps.  We weren't dressed like transvestites.  We weren't holding hands, wearing lipstick (maybe some flavored lip balm, but it wasn't me I swear) or blowing each other on the sidewalk.  We were just walking.  My initial reaction was to chase the cab down, rip each one of these Gold's Gym going, striped shirt wearing crackers out of the car and beat them to a bloody pulp with a fresh copy of the King James Bible.  Then it occurred to me... these people are just sad, unintelligent human beings.

For the record none of us were gay, but it didn't matter... my blood still boiled.  I wanted to yell back, but I didn't.  What would make someone want to yell such hateful things out of a window to people they don't even know?  And even worse, they did it like cowards speeding down the street.  Well, I know it was good idea for them because if they were on foot, I may have not been able to control myself and they would've received a classic ass whooping.  Even then, nothing would have come of it except for a few bumps and bruises.  They simply weren't worth the time or the energy.  Instead, my friends and I laughed really hard at these bottom-feeders.  There were even a few cabbies standing in a parking lot just ahead, and one of my friends said to them, "Were they talking about you guys?"  And they laughed along with us.

What I've realized is that there are a lot of stupid people out there.  A few years back, I would have chased that car of poorly raised dipshits for 5 miles looking for a fight.  I know now only an idiot would shout such nonsense out of a window.  And only a bigger idiot would stoop to their level and go after them.  Maybe if these sorry bastards stayed in on a weeknight and read a BOOK instead of trolling in bars to find some senseless SLOBONE (noun. used to describe a loose female dumb enough to associate with one of these paupers) to take home, they would learn something about this world and the people in it.

I love my life, but sometimes it saddens me to realize there are folks out there that hate themselves so much, they feel it's necessary to hate others.  It doesn't matter if you come from a shitty family, or a town full of simpletons... cause you don't have to be like them.  It's no excuse.  That's the beauty of this life; you can be whoever you want to be.  If you want to be an asshole that's fine, I'd just prefer you kept it to yourself.  CLOSETS were made for a reason... for STUPID ASSHOLES... not faggots.

I AM MISERABLE...

on Fridays.  This shouldn't be the case.  The weekend is here.  It's so close I can taste it.  Two days off in a row... It's my weekly vacation.  I should be elated, but I'm not.  And you want to know why, because I have to FUCKING work on Fridays!

The day always goes by so slow, especially when you have plans to set up a SLIP AND SLIDE on the beach and sip Pina Coladas with a bunch of Hawaiian chicks.  Let's be honest, I will be sitting in my house in a few hours with four dudes deciding whether or not we should go out, but still, it's better than being at work.

I think the problem here is THURSDAY.  I hate you worse than Friday... way worse.  Everybody always wants to do something on Thursday night.  Thursday is the NEW Friday.  I feel like more people go out on Thursdays.  Bars are packed.  People are wandering the streets like it's Cinco De Mayo.  Doesn't anybody work anymore?  I know this is LA, so no, but this phenomenon is going on everywhere.  I talk to my boys back in NYC on Friday mornings and they are always all beat up from a great Thursday night on the town.

It usually starts on Tuesday, when I get emails that have the subject title, "PLANS FOR THE WEEKEND".  This usually means, "What are we doing on Thursday night because I want you to be suicidal on Friday morning and fuck up your whole weekend."  Thanks guys.

I've been pretty good lately about staying in on Thursday night because I have to work early on Friday morning.  But sometimes I fall for it.  "Sure, let's get a drink tonight"... That never happens.  One drink turns into six... One bar leads to another... Then we're meeting this person at that bar and some other schmuck who knows these girls at another dump.  The night turns into a shit-show.

The next morning I am driving to work half-cocked, contemplating the meaning of life, praying I have matching shoes on, all while listening to some idiot on the radio talk about PIRATES capturing someone off the coast of SOMALIA.  Then a cartoon bubble pops up over my head, "Pirates are cool... Should I have been a Pirate?"  Perhaps, but I don't think being a Pirate is a very lucrative profession.  Anyhow, I'm not much of a swashbuckler and I'd probably have Jaundice in less than a week.  Why the HELL did I go out last night?

The going out on Thursday trend started in COLLEGE.  It was a huge night to go out.  I went out every Thursday.  Everyone would get crazy and nobody ever went to class on Friday morning.  It was awesome.  I take it everyone is trying to relive their college years... I know I am at times.

Thursday night also has the best lineup of TV shows.  "The Office" and "Southland" are a few of my favorites.  The invention of DVR (one of the best inventions of our time if not THE best) has killed staying in on Thursday night by allowing people to record shows and in turn keeping them in on Friday night to catch up on programs and save their energy for SATURDAY.  Maybe that's just me.  Really, I'd rather be home watching "30 Rock" or some new cop drama that leaves tears in my eyes at the end of the show.  The thing is, nobody gives a shit what I want.  So in reality, it's not Friday's fault that Thursday is such an asshole and has stolen its thunder.  Some college frat boy is to blame here.  

On Friday, some people are all charged up to make plans, meet up, get drinks, go out, but not me... Maybe I'm just growing up.  I usually get home on Friday afternoon/early evening and clean my house, do laundry or go shopping.  Friday evening has become my time for relaxation.  This day only sucks while you're at work, but once you get home, it's the greatest day ever.  So don't be too down on yourself Friday... but I'm still not going out.  By the time I'm finished with my chores, I go for a run, make a nice meal and start getting mentally prepared for a strong Saturday performance.  It's not Friday's fault that SATURDAY is just flat-out better.  You don't have to WORK on Saturday.  If you go out on Friday night, your Saturday is ruined.   Saturday didn't create the 5 day work week... some corporate asshole that goes out on Thursdays did.   Friday is furious, but I don't care.  Sorry Friday, you're the new TUESDAY.

I AM FROM HUMBLE BEGINNINGS...

and wouldn't have wanted it any other way.  I've always felt that people who come from money struggle with themselves more often than people from BLUE collar families.  Is it really that hard to be rich?  I hope one day I will find out.

I don't understand why people of wealth are so insecure about it.  Maybe it's just my generation, but every kid I know that's my age with money is always miserable.  I know you're going through the same shit as every one else, you're just doing it with money.  Pass it over here, I'll show you happiness.  Is it because you have a sense of entitlement?  Did your parents not teach you to work hard?  Did they teach you anything at all?  Perhaps it's because you are all way over-medicated.

I went to a boarding school filled with RICH kids.  Every other student there was seeing a Psychiatrist.  Really?  You needed a shrink at 16.  I used to just talk to my brother when I needed advice (which is probably why I'm now insane).  These robots were medicated for depression, insomnia, anxiety, hyperactivity, and ACNE.  I hadn't heard of any of these problems with kids before I started mingling with the upper echelon of society.  People where I came from were just quiet, nervous, crazy, and had zits.  This was normal and none of them were taking medication or seeing doctors for being NORMAL.

I remember one time I was going through a stretch during football season where I had some pimples on my face.  Everyone I knew at school was washing their faces with all of this prescription shit and popping pills to get rid of zits, so naturally I wanted some.  I came home one weekend and asked my parents if they would take me to the doctor to fix the 6 zits on my face.  My Dad laughed and said, "What are you a girl?... Why would we pay for something that's going to go away before you know it?"  My mom told me, "It's not even that bad" and not to touch my face.  So I didn't and it went away.  Those other kids are probably still washing their faces with that poisonous shit today.

Also, kids used to snort Adderall to stay up late at night to finish papers and other assignments.  I don't know about these maniacs, but my mom always told me that you could die if you put anything up your nose.  She used to say, "All it takes is one time and BANG!... You're dead."  And I believed her... still do.  I don't even use Afrin.  And these kid's parents were supporting unnecessary and possibly dangerous habits by running them to the doctor when they allegedly had a little trouble focusing in school.  By the way, these are the same kids complaining about not being able to sleep at night... go figure.

There are medications for everything these days.  Restless Leg Syndrome, ADD, ADHD, Acne, Erectile Dysfunction, and Sleeping Disorders are just a few things people are constantly medicated for.  Stress causes 95% of these disorders (if you can call them that) created by doctors and scientists in CAHOOTS with some huge conglomerate to produce medications for them.  Once this happens, other RICH people buy the pills, start a trend and then it eventually trickles down to the middle class when commercials start airing during "The View" and some housewife notices her leg is shaking. 

But guess what, everyone is stressed.  You can't keep you legs from moving at your desk during the day... how about this.. Sit fucking STILL!  Are your kids having trouble concentrating in class or while doing homework?  Maybe you should tell them to sit their asses down, stop moving their legs and read their fucking books instead of giving them a little Ritalin.  Do you have a few pimples on your nose?  Instead of Proactivating why don't you try using some regular soap and stop touching your face.  Is your BIRD not standing at attention when you need it to?  Maybe you should stop cheating on your wife or have married someone that you are actually attracted to.  If that doesn't work, try to relax, throw on a porno, and cut down your intake of JACK DANIELS.  Having trouble sleeping?  How about doing something active every once in a while.  Stop sitting on your ass, smoking cigarettes, and wacking off on your computer.  This is NOT enough exercise.  If you move around enough during the day, you'll sleep just fine.  How about implementing a little self discipline in your diet?  What the HELL were your parents doing when you were little?

Back on Crack... My point here is... Medicine is not always the ANSWER.  If your kid is acting like an asshole in class and can't sit still... Ground his ass or give him a good crack on the mouth, don't rush that pussy to the doctor.  He'll start raising his hand in no time.  If your kid can't sleep at night, encourage him/her to join a sports team or tryout for the school play.  Just because you're rich doesn't mean you can't act like a backwoods hillbilly when your kid gets into trouble.  I'm not saying you have to beat them to get their attention... but God forbid you have to raise your voice or tell them NO every so often... trust me it won't kill you.  Talk to them... they just might listen.  Otherwise they'll be approaching 30, unemployed, blogging, up all night, popping zits, all while having a 6 hour HARD-ON.

I know I turned this into a TV-MA after school special, but I've seen so many asshole kids out on the streets lately... All of whom are in therapy and medicated... and the ones who aren't probably can't afford it.   I'm just extremely thankful to my parents for not rushing me to the doctor when I had the sniffles or when I had an episode at school.  They are simply, good, hard working people that taught me most of the problems we face can be dealt with at home.  This goes for kids and adults at any point in your life.  So, suck it up a little bit.

Life is difficult.  I wish I was given a brand new Benz for my 18th birthday.  I wish my parents had the money to put a down payment on my first house.  I wish I could've afforded to go backpacking through Europe after college, even though I saw the "HOSTEL" movies.  But I didn't get any of these things and I'm better for it.  I knew if I was going to get anything in this life, I was going to have to bust my ass to get it... without a prescription.

I AM UNCOMFORTABLE...

around people that own cats, especially women.  I say that because I don't really know any men that live alone and own cats.  The guys that have cats usually live with their wives or girlfriends and their lady brought the conniving animal into their already failing relationship.  I think I know some gay couples that own cats, but they are exempt because that's another issue.

Not only do most cats make me itchy, they scare the shit out of me.  They are sneaky animals.  Cats are constantly popping up around the corner when you get up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water.  They want you to know that they're watching you carefully and planning their escape.  A cat would trade you in for a fresh litter box and a warm cup of milk in a second.  They hate you.

When I was a kid, I didn't have any friends that had cats.  Everybody in the neighborhood had dogs.  I only remember the one "CAT LADY" on Wall Street.  She lived in the house we called "the jungle" because you couldn't even see her front door.  Most of the houses on the block barely had any trees and this one had 50 on the little front yard.  The foliage hadn't been manicured in 25 years.  The worst part about her Vietnam-like fortress was that there were always cats roaming around.  I would say... she had roughly 20 cats.  Somebody with this many cats could not be normal.

My friends and I used to dare each other to go trick or treating at her house on Halloween ever year.  No one ever wanted to do it.  So one Halloween, I accepted the challenge.  I had to know what went on in there.  Walking through the dark brush, alone, all I could hear was hissing and scary meows.  Really what the cats were saying was, "Get the fuck off of our lawn!"  My short life was flashing before my eyes.  

So I get to the front door, ring the bell and this middle-aged woman answers in a moo-moo.  I say, "trick or treat?"  Stone-faced, she turned and walked away leaving the door open.  As I am pooping my pants standing alone in the dark, keeping my head on a swivel with the cats surrounding me, I decide to lean in and take a peek into the house... And BOOM!   She is standing right there before me in the foyer holding a banana like Norman Bates in "PSYCHO".  I almost had a heart attack.  I fell to a knee for a moment and immediately popped up.  She couldn't have been gone for more than 2 seconds.  It was like she teleported to the fruit bowl in her kitchen and just reappeared in an instant.  Maybe one of the cats brought it to her.  But a banana, really?  I mean, I'm an advocate for good health and all but can I get a KIT-KAT bar for Christ's sake?  I'm 11, not 30.  She reached over to hand it to me.  The thing was all bruised and battered like one of the Real Housewives of Orange county after some plastics work.

I took the banana out of her hand gently and said, "Thank you."  I didn't want to hurt her feelings.  She seemed so sad, so lost.  She half smiled at me like a kid at an INTERNMENT camp that hadn't eaten for weeks and got a candy cane from an armed guard on Christmas.  I smiled back and walked to the street, depressed.  Poor lady.  I really think one of the cats brought her the banana because they knew it would keep the kids away.

The cats controlled her life and actually held her captive.  It was an interesting role reversal.  The least they could do was let her out to get some sunlight.  Dogs would never do this to anyone.  I knew I had to stay away from CATS, especially the musical.

The funny thing with felines, is they love me, even though the feeling is not mutual.  I dated a girl in college that had two cats.  They wouldn't leave me alone.  I had to eat Claritan pills like they were Reece's Pieces.  It was worth it for a while because this girl was hot... real hot.  But after a while I just couldn't take it anymore.  The freaking cats were everywhere... all over the bed, the kitchen counter, the dinner table, the couches and window sills... These little bastards had no boundaries.  So obviously we didn't work out.  They won.  I was defeated by a couple of creepy cats.  She's married to a doctor now.  They probably have 10 cats and I'm so happy for them... or happy that I'm not that dude.

I have vowed to never lose to a cat ever again.  One of the first questions I ask a woman is, "Do you have cats?"  If she says yes, I usually tell her to beat it... unless she is Bridget Moynahan.  Cats are a bigger turn off than a weekend at the NEVERLAND RANCH.  So if you have cats... I don't hate you, but I probably won't come over and if I do it better be worth a Benadryl induced coma, and know this... I am pissed about it.

I AM DAMAGED GOODS...

That's right, I said it.  Maybe some of you should admit that you're not a member of the Brady Bunch and life would be a lot easier for you... and me.

If you're not damaged goods, what good are you?  Boring for one.  Full of shit... perhaps.  Or just a simple, old-fashioned liar.  Have you ever met somebody that was perfect?  Yeah, me neither.  Well, how about someone that pretends to be perfect?  These people are ridiculous.  They think they're so fucking COOL.  They probably have all of their pets buried in their backyard right next to the family they just murdered.

What makes someone cool?  What the hell does being "cool" even mean?  The definitions of cool in the dictionary are as follows, "moderately cold, neither warm or cold... not excited, calm... not hasty, lacking in interest or enthusiasm... lacking in warmth or cordiality... aloof or unresponsive, indifferent... unaffected by emotions."  Those were just a few examples.  There are many more, trust me, look it up.  But since when is being unresponsive cool?  So if I ignore you, am I cool?  If I'm dead, am I cool?  Since when is lacking warmth or cordiality cool?  Since when is trying to act like your favorite celebrity cool?  (Sorry, couldn't resist).  I sound like I'm describing an asshole, right?  This whole idea of "cool" really sucks.  I'd like to dig up the human being that starting using this word to describe someone that is better than somebody else, and punch him in his skull.

So many characters out there are strutting their stuff like they're God's gift to the world.  Well, I'm a non believer so you're just another product of a broken prophylactic in my eyes.

Today, these two Tackleberries come into my shop wearing big, dark sunglasses and designer clothes.  I say, "How are you guys doing?"  The one guy in the aviators looks back at me and says, "SUP."  I wanted to strangle him with the mouse cord but instead,  I say, "Let me know if you need anything" as they are strolling around the gallery looking at ART with their sunglasses ON.   The other guy looks back at me through his shades and says, "We're cool."  Yeah, okay guy...  You're about as cool as colon cancer.

There are only 4 exceptions for wearing shades inside.  1) You have cataracts and or a lazy eye. (And I don't mean a drunk floater, like a real, full blown lazy eye).  2) You are 137 years old.  3) You are wasted or hung-over and smell like a wine tour bus.  4) YOU ARE JACK NICHOLSON... cause he can do whatever the hell he wants.  The guy is awesome.  That's it.  Sorry, Kanye.  Take off your fucking shades.

Why can't everyone just relax?  We're all going through the same shit.  If everyone just took a step back and stopped trying to impress everyone else, the world would be a much better place.  I'm guilty of this.  We all are.  But I want to change.  I've thought I was cool, but I've also felt like a loser at times.  And you know what, I've had my heart broken and have also shattered a few hearts along the way.  That's normal.  That's living.  That's cool.

To me, you're cool if you are generous, selfless and flat out friendly. Good listeners are cool.  Funny people are cool.  People that work hard are cool, not some moderately cold, unenthusiastic, emotionless, indifferent, impudent prick.  What the commoners think is "cool" is now STANDARD.

So be different.  Be nice.  Don't flick off old people just cause they are driving too slow.  Be patient.  Act like you care.  Protect yourself, but don't be a douche bag.  Only be an asshole if you have to.  I say that I am a dick, but there is a time and a place for it... just like first basing.  Be honest, and people will respect you more... cause being "cool" just isn't that important... or that "cool" anymore.

I AM A HUGE FAN...

of FIRST BASING.  Apparently so are the rest of you because I see you doing it in bars every weekend.  I'm not going to lie, I AM a repeat offender.  It's been a while, but I've been there.

It's tough to get a drink at the bar when two couples on each side of you (and when I say couples, I mean they just met) are exchanging DNA like they are the last two people on the island.  You know they are recent acquaintances because they are proving to each other and the rest of the world that they are the best, most passionate kissers in the galaxy.  This usually goes on until closing time.  Then the girl makes the decision whether or not to go home with this pauper who's been pleading for a sleep over every time he comes up for air.  He promises he'll be good.  Yeah, okay... She doesn't want to seem like a slut even though she was just swallowing his head whole and jamming her hands down his pants in plain sight.  It's a bit too late for that.  And if she doesn't go home with this dude, she'll probably never see him again.  What a waste of energy... on both ends.

We know these chronic first basers aren't dating or married (man I'm getting old) because if they were, the man would have his arm around her shoulder like they did in the 50's... or they would be on opposite ends of the bar like they do today.  People that are dating usually give each other a peck on the lips or cheek here and there just to say, "Honey I'm still here."  They know what they have.  If they truly love each other, they know there is a time and a place for getting after it.  They don't need to be all over each other.  Let me say this, PDA is acceptable sometimes, but not ALL the time.

Have you ever made out with someone that's a bad kisser?  This is terrible.  If I wanted to kiss a lizard, I'd get a Kimono Dragon.  Bad kissers are out there in full effect today and can been seen in a club or shopping mall near you.  They need to be stopped.  Can these people take a class?  I sure hope so.  If you're going to make out in public and I have to see it, you better be good at it cause I don't want to watch a porno in public.  I want to see a Audrey Hepburn Movie.

First basing is a lost art.  People make out with everyone.  They should've perfected it by now.  Perhaps it's because everyone is always hammered.  

This world is full of kissing BANDITS.  I remember in High School some of my friends never really dated anybody, but they made out with every chick they saw.  Maybe if they stuck with one of these broads and taught them a thing or two they wouldn't be in the bar every Friday night looking like a frog trying to catch a fly on some DJ's face.

Making out with someone you just met doesn't leave any room for pleasure delaying.  Things are always better if you can hold out for a while... just a little while, not forever.  You can tell almost immediately what type of sexual partner this person is going to be by how they kiss.  I guess if you're making out with someone within the first 30 minutes of meeting them, you can cancel people out quicker.  This would save you a lot of time and money, so maybe it's a smart move.  

You know the old saying, "You know if you're going to sleep with someone within the first 5 minutes of meeting them?"  This only applies to women because it's THEIR decision.  It means nothing to men because they will sleep with 95% of the women they meet, especially after a few drinks.  Men usually find one girl in the bar that they can put the full court press on.  They grab a beer, get in their stance and don't move for the rest of the night.  Poor girls.

I feel in most cases women just give in because they think they can get rid of this dude quicker if they just give him a little taste of first base.  Wrong.  The guy you opened the gates for is already planning your honeymoon and giving you butterfly kisses just so he can sleep with you.  You should've just told him to him to beat it.  Never settle.

I guess what I'm saying here is to be more selective... And if you kiss like a BATTLE TOAD, you have a better chance of hopping into a DeLorian, heading back to 1986 to watch the METS win the World Series than coming home with me.  Sorry ladies, I'm sure there are plenty of dudes that are bad first basers too... so I sympathize with you as well.  Get your act together.  Ah, the single life.

I AM AFRAID...

of the DENTIST.  With those huge needles and various metal instruments they use to poke and prod in your mouth, who wouldn't be scared?  My Dad for one... He could sit in the chair and have a dentist remove his bicuspids with a sword (without anaesthetics) and he would just sit there smiling.  Then again, the man is from another time.  He is afraid of nothing, except my MOM of course.

Throughout my entire life, the dentist has been the bane of my existence.  The dentist is the guy that told me in the 6th grade... "You should see an orthodontist, you're going to need braces".  Well that's just great Doc, do I need braces for my legs as well?  Thank you for postponing my exploration of the female body for a few more years.  And I went to this... "Orthodontist" character and he slapped those braces on my face without blinking.  My life was over.   I had to have 4 teeth removed before the braces could even go on.  Great.  The next four years went by very slowly... with pieces of Doritos stuck in my metal mouth everyday.  So during that period, every time I went to the Dentist for a cleaning, I couldn't even look at him.  He did this to me.  It wasn't my parents genetics... it was the dentist that wanted my life to suck.

By my Sophomore year of high school, I still had those braces on.  I went back to the dentist for a final cleaning with braces... and then I had them taken off less than a month later at the Orthodontist.  Free at last, free at last, free at last!  I was ready to show off my new grill to the world, but there was a catch... they give you a little thing called a RETAINER.  You have to wear it for like two years after you have braces.  I lost it the first week.  And I also decided I wasn't going back to the dentist for the rest of my life.  

I went through a stretch of almost six years after that where I never went to the dentist.  I ducked and dodged my Mom every time she mentioned it or I would immediately change the subject.  Huge mistake.  Take care of your teeth.  When you show up at the dentist and he asks you, "Have you been chewing on glass for the last 5 years?"   This is a BAD sign.

I never went cause I was afraid.  My teeth never looked bad, nor was I in pain, so why go?  I was also embarrassed.  Nobody wants to admit that they've had 14 cavities in one visit to the devil... I mean dentist. 

Everybody wants perfect, shiny, white teeth in this Hollywood-influenced country.  You don't even have to go to the dentist anymore to whiten your teeth.  You can just throw some Crest Whitening Strips on those bad boys and call it a day.  Even though they work, you still need to have cleanings on the regular.  Perfect teeth aren't nearly as important as healthy teeth.

Recently, I moved to a new part of town and decided that I would no longer be afraid of the dentist.  I figured it was something I had to get over, now that I am an adult.  "Grow up" my mom said... "It's not that bad, stop being a wimp" my Dad added.  This coming from the guy that used to sit me in a chair in the kitchen and rip out my loose teeth with his calloused hands.

So I found a local dentist that received rave reviews on the web, and I figured, "what the hell?"  I walked in, looked him right in the eyes and said, "I AM SCARED OF YOU."  He laughed out loud.  We chatted for a bit and then I had a regular checkup with x-rays and the whole bit.  I just asked him to shoot me straight and he did just that.  I can't stand it when medical professionals bullshit me.  Don't beat around the bush, just let me have it.  I can take it.  He told me I needed work, but surprisingly very little work, since I hadn't been to the dentist in 50 years.  He made me feel so comfortable.  This guy was the MAN. 

I went back for 3 more visits.  The first was a cleaning and the other two were fixing some old fillings and having a crown placed on an old tired, filled tooth that was decaying.

So after all of these years... with braces, four regular teeth and four wisdom teeth extracted, two crowns and a boat load of fillings, I finally have good dental health.  And I had painless procedures to get here.  No root canals... knock on wood.  It was a good thing I brushed 12 times a day.  My teeth almost look like Ben Affleck's now... man that dude has great teeth.  It's taken many years to accomplish this, but I am no longer afraid of the DENTIST.

I AM ALWAYS LAUGHING...

at stoplights.  I love hearing what type of music the person in the car next to me is jamming to.  It cracks me up to see people singing in their cars.  I do it.  You do it.  We ALL do it.

The best is when you stop at a light, forgetting where you are and realize someone is watching you serenade yourself.  How many of you immediately lower the volume embarrassed?  I've seen it so many times... then you flip the mirror down above your head and make it like you have something in your teeth.  You know who you are.

I get a kick out of watching a grown man in a pickup truck belting out some Coldplay.  It's sweet when you see a cute girl rocking out to some 80's hair metal or grooving to some Mary J. Blige.  By the way if this is you, I LOVE you.  Or even better, a corny white dude with glasses is rapping along with the GZA and some old school WU-TANG.  Hilarious.

I wish people people wouldn't stop at my expense.  People that possess the complete willingness to humiliate themselves are usually the most interesting.  Please continue to sing "Sweet Child of Mine" at the top of your lungs.  I feel you... and I love it.

Now, what I don't understand is when you are listening to music as loud as possible.  This can't be good for your eardrums.  The worst is when you pull up to a light and some Guido with gelled, spiked hair and gigantic sunglasses (who's probably my cousin) is listening to TECHNO at full blast.  I really don't get it.  This really chaps my ass.  Are you on Ecstasy?  Are there 12 girls in skimpy dresses in the back seat of your Camaro all sweaty from twirling around glow-sticks?  Are we in Cancun?  Is your Ed Hardy T-shirt so tight that you can't feel the electronic beats chipping away at your spine?  If I can't hear the Barry Manilow track that I'm humming along to in my car when you pull up next to me, your shit is too loud!  Use a Q-tip every once in a while to get the GEL out of your fucking ears.  This music is played at the club at 3am for one reason and one reason only... to keep you awake.  I can't find any stimulation in this type of music.

Believe me, I'm pretty open-minded (not really in this case, but I try).  I have friends that love this music.  They also love Drum and Bass.  I've gone to these shows and people are actually wearing ear plugs.  How is this fun?  I thought the musicians were supposed to be the only ones wearing ear plugs...?  Personally, I would like to keep my hearing for as long as possible.  Being drunk and deaf sounds like a sticky situation to me.  I'd just prefer to hear some Frank Sinatra or something else that I could sing along to in my CAR.  I guess I'm just an old soul.

I AM A MAN THAT TRULY RESPECTS...

the idea of personal space.  Have you ever been in line at the movies or at a Starbucks (I don't drink coffee, but I have been there) and actually felt the HEAT from the person behind you?  I will never, and I mean NEVER understand this.  Have you ever been at Best Buy and a guy is standing 3 inches behind you, impatiently waiting for you not to pick up the last copy of "A Clockwork Orange?"  I usually pump-fake a few times like I'm going to grab it or just pick it up and take a few laps around the comedy section before putting it back. 

 

A friend of mine has been around the world and back.  She told me that in parts of Europe and Asia, personal space is non-existent.  It's very common, not disrespectful to be all over the stranger next to you.  That's great, but guess what pal, this is America, not Europe or Asia.  If I come to your country and stand or sit too far away from you, then you can yell at me.

If I can feel your hot, cigarette/coffee stinking, baby diaper breath singeing the wolfman hairs on my neck... YOU ARE TOO FUCKING CLOSE TO ME!  Back the hell up and buy a pack of Trident!  If I can feel your privates on the back of my leg, seriously... you have issues.   Sometimes I get so pissed after being out in public that I want to make an appointment with a shrink.  Am I crazy?  I don't think so.

And it's always MEN that do this.  How come it's never a Penthouse Pet or Jennifer Morrison from "House" breathing down my neck?  Do you really want to be that close to me?  I wish they would...

Now as a human being that takes great pride in hygiene and hates the smell of BUMS... I think I understand why they stink.  Basically, they are saying, "Stay Back" with their b.o.  Yes they are unemployed, homeless and don't have access to a shower.  Yes they look like they've been playing WAR since they were 14.  Yes they sleep in the street, but they might just have the right idea.  Most people avoid bums.  Maybe they just want to be left alone after you give them 13 cents.  Maybe I should never shower again.  It would be a daunting task, but I might try it.

The worst personal space invasions happen in the movie theater.  So you go to a 2:30pm showing of some silly comedy and sit toward the front... like 6 rows from the screen.  You and your buddy or date then decide to sit near the end of the row so that nobody sits near you.  Perfect!  You've found an empty row!  There are literally 150 open seats in the theater and some freak-show stumbles in late and sits right next to you or even worse right in front or BEHIND you.  Again with the HEAT.  And of course this peasant has a huge bucket of popcorn, Skittles that he's dropping all over the floor and to top it off... he has a cold and is sniffling like a third grader.  That's it.  The movie ends up sucking no matter what you do.  It's virtually impossible to get this clown out of your head.  He wins.  You lose... and just wasted 12 bucks.  What is wrong with people?   I should've just offered him a tissue made of sandpaper, a sawed off shotgun to shoot either me or himself and a first class ticket back to France. (Sorry France, you guys make great films).

I AM JUST TRYING...

To meet a NICE GIRL.  According to my friends, this was my go-to pickup  line in college.    The sad thing was, not only did I mean it... it actually worked.  My friends made fun of me ALL the time.  They couldn't believe women were falling for it.  Needless to say, I met a lot of nice girls.

Do people still use pickup lines?  "Hey baby, those jeans would look a lot better on my floor".  I hope a slap follows that comment.  If you say shit like that, you are officially a Division 1 Dirtbag and probably haven't been laid since "GOONIES" was in the theater.

These days I never spark up conversations with women I don't know.  I usually just stand by like a pussy and watch my courageous friends make asses out of themselves... or score effortlessly like PELE' with a bicycle kick.  If I'm lucky, one of the girls in a group that my friend has without question asked to go "to lunch" with him tomorrow migrates over to me.  Usually I am sipping my womanly cocktail pretending to be not cool, which today means... TOO COOL FOR SCHOOL.  It's really a bullshit move, but whatever... it can be effective. 

 

This is when I am at my best.  The girl is vulnerable.  I find it much easier to pick up the slack after someone else has already failed.  Expectations are much lower.  If I ever get results, it's because the intelligent, or nice girl knew when to get away.  Does this make me a loser... absolutely.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not shy.  I can talk it up with the best of them.  Sometimes I flat out never shut the fuck up.  If you have interesting shit to say, nobody cares.  For example:  "I went to Ecuador last spring and harpooned a NATIVE."  "My father was a hitman."  "I just escaped from PRISON and my Grandmother is Judy Garland."   These things are memorable. 

 

I've always hated when people spark up the conversation with, "What do you do?"  It makes me want to sit on a bicycle without a seat.  Perhaps it's because I'm not proud of what I currently do.  Yup.  One time I had a friend visiting me from back East and we were having dinner with the family I was staying with at the time.  The first question the Queen of the household asked her was none other than, "What do you do?"  And she simply said, "I don't".  I laughed my ass off.  I wish everybody said this to anyone that asks that question.  Honestly, I don't care as long as you are passionate about it, but you can tell me later... much later. Tell me about your parents and why your Mom threw your Dad's clothes onto the front lawn back in 93' after he had gone away for the entire weekend unannounced.  That is some interesting shit.

I also hate when women ask, "What kind of car do you drive?"  Yes, women have actually asked me this question.   What is this the fucking 80's?  So, I answer honestly and say, "I drive an old school beater."  Does this mean I'm not rich?  Bingo.  Well... not yet.  One time a girl asked me this a few years back and I give the old school beater comment and she says "Really?"...  I respond with, "Even if I had money I'd rather be driving that, than one of those Range Rovers that every other asshole drives."  A few minutes later we were all leaving the bar and I see that same girl get into her Range Rover.  Blew that one... Big time.  I'm pretty sure I was better off because anyone that asks you that question sucks at life.  Maybe I should move to New York where people don't drive cars.

So am I still trying to meet a NICE girl... perhaps, or maybe I've already met her.  Maybe I just don't care anymore.  A lot of nice girls have come and gone like faces in the halls.  Your time will come, as will mine, but for now, I'm all set with dying old, alone, and in the dark.  It's much safer there.

I AM ENVIOUS...

Of people that have the balls to use ONLINE DATING sights.  I really want to know what's going through the soon-to-be online prowler's head.  

When do you come to this decision?  You've been too busy.  You work really hard.  Money is tight.  Money is never ending and you're insecure about your wealth (cry me a fucking river trust fund babies).  You're from Kansas and just moved to New York.  You've heard a few success stories from Jeanne at the office, who told you that her sister's friend Jenny's cousin Tina met her husband BLANE on the WEB.  You're a little overweight.

Doesn't anybody ever get set up anymore?  "Hey Keadly, I have this girl Kay that you have to meet!"  Nobody ever says this to me.  Maybe its because I'm a jerk off.  Probably. Definitely.

Should we have arranged marriages like in third world countries?  Should we get set up like the Royal families do it?  Do they still do that over the pond?  Who knows.

I know a ton of people are meeting others through Myspace and Facebook and whatever the hell else is out there.  Is that safe?  I know people that get laid from that shit all the time.  I must admit, although the idea of it freaks me out, I am still intrigued.  I have only entertained the notion; never actually gone through with it.  Maybe I'm just lucky enough to have friends that know a lot of women, or maybe I'm just as cute as my Momma tells me.  Doubtful.

The truth is, you people are BRAVE.  Meeting someone for the first time that could be an 11 year old Swedish boy or an 80 year old Grandmother from Connecticut sounds exhilarating.  I wish I had the stones to do it.  I would shit my pants.  Literally soil myself... on the way to meet this webophile.  But I guess this happens on a first or old school blind date too.

I'm not knocking the practice of online dating, just curious about it.  Aren't we all?  It's truly understandable when you are a 65 year old widow living in a retirement community, but when you're 25?  30?  Shouldn't you be chasing tail at the beach or at the local dive?  Or if you're from Nebraska, out in the cornfields?  I guess you just meet so many douche bags or flaky ass women out on the town; taking your love life to the web is a smart choice. 

 

One can only go to a bar every so often and meet what you think is a KEEPER.  I know it happens a lot.  You think, this one's THE ONE.  I've done it.  I've seen so many girls fall for it.  You know what I'm talking about... Mind you this usually starts when she's 20 drinks deep...  This cool, hipster, rocker-type dude floats over, bumps into her, chats her up and she is putty in his POMADE filled hands.  She's in love with this joker for 2 hours, before the bar closes, gives him her number (which also freaks me out) and may exchange a few texts with him over the next few weeks, but never sees him again.   He was probably an actor... or ME.

So, do I condone this rigamarole?  I'm not sure yet.  When my Mom and her MAHJONG pals are talking about online dating while smoking Newports, I crack up thinking about my friends that do it...  Online dating, not mahjong.  Will I ever try it?  Negative.  I'm just fine and dandy like Forrest Gump's legs.  In all honesty, nobody cares that you're a little over weight.  Nobody cares that you are too rich or too poor.  Nobody cares where you're from... And if they do...  It doesn't matter whether you met them online, or in line at the Old Country Buffet... FUCK EM.

I AM AN ACTOR...

First of all, shut the fuck up.  I've always hated when people say "I'm an actor" and I couldn't tell why until now.  Just because you're in an acting class, doesn't mean that you're an ACTOR.  Just because you did 12 USC short films for what you called "honing the craft" doesn't exactly get you a seat next to DiCaprio at the Oscars.

I rented a truck the other day to move my new bed and a few other household appliances into my house.  Does that mean I can call myself a certified fucking TRUCK DRIVER?  No assholes.  My unbelievably hard working father drove a truck for 35 years to keep food on the table.  One night at a bar the old man grabs a microphone and sings New York, New York by Ole Blue Eyes, but the fucking guy never called himself a singer.

I recently almost became an ACTOR.  Yeah, I moved to LA to become an actor... what an original story.  I bet you can't wait to hear what I say next?  Yeah me neither.  I should just end it here, but due to the fact that I have nothing else to do and I am the captain of LOSERDOM, I will continue to embarrass myself and all of you.

So back to the Actor... Since I've lived in LA, almost 5 years now, I have never been able to call myself an actor.  Yeah, I took an IMPROV class.  Nope, not an actor.  Yeah, I was in somewhere around 25 short films, 2 of which were in major film festivals where real actors and producers actually saw them, but I still never called myself an actor.

I recently have had a few lines in couple of movies that will come out sometime next year and I was compensated quite nicely, thank you very little.  So, I was out the other night and some broad asks me, "What do you do?"  My least favorite question by the way.  After fighting back the urge to punch her square in the yoga-toned jaw I say, "I'm an actor".  She says, "That's great! Me too".  Then while removing chards of glass from my skull cause I broke my perfectly good bottle of beer over my own head just to get her away from me I realized, "Maybe that bitch is an actor?"

I've never understood why people feel so cool telling people that they are actors.  Is it that cool to be unemployed?  Is it that cool to be an actor?  Well it is if you are getting PAID!  At least if you tell folks that you work in a bar, they will want to be your friend cause there is a shot at some free drinks.  You might even get laid.  Hint, hint... It has worked for me.  You should try it.

The moral of the story is... You're not a writer unless someone is reading your shit and you're getting paid for it.  You're not an actor unless someone is paying you to act like the douche bag you are... On screen/stage of course (pro bono theater actors are exempt because theater actors have huge iron nuts).  And you're not a truck driver unless you have a CD and or know my Dad.  So I guess I can now call myself an actor, but I still shy away from it.  I tell people I have a full-time job, which I do.  I am not an ACTOR... yet.

I AM ETERNALLY GRATEFUL TO THE FIRST WOMAN THAT BEGAN SHAVING HER LEGS, UNDERARMS, AND NETHER REGION...

This was genius.  Let's begin by following the history of shaving, which was a man's idea, obviously.  This past time takes us back to the STONE AGE around 30,000 BC when Neanderthal men began painfully pulling hair from their faces with their bare hands... to attract hairy women I'm sure.  Shortly after, they began using two seashells as tweezers to remove hair from their faces.  Ouch.

As far back as 4,000 BC, women were removing hair from their bodies and making their own depilatory creams using some of these psychotic ingredients: arsenic, quicklime, and starch.  That's commitment.  Around 3,000 BC permanent shaving razors were developed.  Let me personally thank the man that began working with metal.

Then by 500 BC, ALEXANDER THE GREAT came along.  While he was taking over the world he became obsessed with shaving.  He refused to even go onto the battlefield with any hair on his face.  So with this trend to look clean underway, Roman women began removing hair from their bodies to become more attractive to men.

At the same time in Greece, women were removing hair from their legs by singeing it off with a lamp.  Damn, those were some brave broads.

A few hundred years later during the Middle Ages, women began removing hair from their necks, eyebrows, legs and arms on a regular basis.  The bald body was IN.  This was the look that had man's jaw dropping.  

Now let's jump ahead to the turn of the 19th century.  GILLETTE began manufacturing a blade that was disposable and removed hair much easier.  Shortly after WWI a young marketing executive for a competitor (genius in my mind) came up with a campaign saying that women's underarm hair and leg hair was unfeminine.  He worked for the Wilkinson Sword Company and should have been elected President of the United States, but unfortunately was not.  During the same time, in 1915 to be exact, Harper's Bazaar Magazine featured a female model sporting the latest spring fashion... an evening gown exposing her bare shoulders and underarms.  And we all love to be followers, don't we?  Brilliant.

So that was just a brief history of shaving.  Am I glad that women chose to take this to another level and start shaving their nether region?  Yes.  I would be a liar if I said otherwise, and I challenge anyone to a DUEL that disagrees.  I'm also glad that shaving has evolved into waxing and laser removal because rubbing up against razor burn and stubble sucks.

Women are the most beautiful creatures on Earth... well besides female GIRAFFES of course.  I love admiring a freshly shaven set of stems.  A smooth woman's body is to die for.  A little hair down below is nice, but an African safari is not.  If I need to bring a machete to our first real make-out session, I will probably just cut off your head.  Now some women may say, "It's my right to keep my body as God made me" or "that's sexist".  I don't believe in God, or give a shit.  If I am taking the time to groom myself for women as a traditional mating ritual, so should you.  It's important that we all take a little time to groom.  The more hair you have in an area that sweats a lot, like your underarms or crotch, the more it stinks.  Clean it up! 

 Men are hairy and disgusting creatures, but don't have to be.  Now don't all of you dudes go shaving your chest at the drop of a dime cause that's kind of gay... unless you are gay of course (body builders, weird but exempt).  I guess this rant proves my heterosexuality, but the jury's still out.

I AM NOT YOUR FRIEND...

Trust me, I'm not.  Have I called you lately to say Happy Birthday?  What are you doing this weekend?  How's Mom?  How about them Cowboys?  If not, then I'm probably not your FRIEND.

There are two extremes with me.  If you asked half of the people I have ever met in my life what I was like, they would probably say, "He's a great guy, polite, nice, handsome... yada yada."   If you asked the other half, they might say, "He's a complete fucking prick."  How do I know this you ask?  No, I'm not out there doing a poll; I'm an egotistical fucking maniac, just like you.  Moving on.

Friends are people you CARE about.  Chances are, if I'm ignoring you, there's a God Damned reason for it.  You probably suck.  Or maybe it's me, but I doubt it.

I find myself telling the TRUTH far too often.  I know that sounds nuts, but it's true.  Yes, if you are my friend, I have undoubtedly hurt your feelings at one point or another.  Trust me, that is a good sign.  If I have told you that you are acting like an asshole to your face, you're probably my friend.  If you and I have been in a FIST FIGHT, you are probably my friend.  If I have been at a bar with you, BOXED you out of a conversation, and didn't offer you a beer for the next round... you are definitely NOT my friend.  If you are a cute girl, and you just so happen to be sleeping with me and I tell you, "This is just sex".  I mean just that.  I don't want to be friends, partners, or anything with you.  I just want to sleep with you!

The hardest thing I've had to learn in my short time on Earth is NOT everyone is going to like you.  My Mom used to say it all the time.  I ignored her with disbelief, but damn it she was right.  A lot of people don't like me.  I don't get it, but it happens... a lot.  Many people don't think I'm funny.  I can't fathom it, but they're not laughing.  Now what my Mom forgot to tell me, is that I'm not going to like everybody I meet either.  And with that being said, I HATE you.  Yes you, you fucking worthless piece of shit.  Get a job!  (I don't think I'm looking in the mirror).  Just because we went to High School together doesn't mean we're friends.  Just because we played little league together doesn't mean I'm inviting you to Thanksgiving fucking dinner!

I am still a nice guy and complete fucking prick... two must have ingredients of a human being, but can also be a frat boy from hell.  I wanted to bring this topic to light because real friends are priceless, like an old school Nintendo.  They don't always work for you, but if you blow on them enough, they will hop to it.

I AM UNORIGINAL...

and pissed about it, but so are you. People no longer speak their minds. People do not protest. They don't picket. They don't raise their hands in class. They don't send letters. They don't call you. They blog. "Like OMG, read my blog about my weekend with Johnny!" I'd rather slide down a slide of razor blades into a pool of alcohol.

I have friends that are famous "Bloggers". Some of them have been offered book deals, movie deals, and other paid writing gigs for beginning a silly blog about how great they are or how much they hate themselves. A few others blog to promote their art or their music. This is all fine, but for some reason it PISSES me off. I don't know why, it just does, yet I still read them and laugh my ass off while doing so. I can't figure out why I give a shit about you and your problems and successes when I have my own (just problems, not successes or I wouldn't be doing this). I have chosen this savvy media outlet to surpass my current writers block, but we'll get into that later... much later.

I've always wanted to write the great American NOVEL, but obviously I'm not that good of a writer (see above). Since I was a wee lad, I wrote in a journal documenting pieces of what seemed to be a boring life. Looking back, it was anything but that.

So allow me to introduce myself as the average Joey bag-o-donuts just wondering why? Why are we here? What are we here to do? Is Flight of the Conchords the best show ever? What is the fucking reason for all of this? Why do people hate New Jersey so much? Why am I writing this? I don't have answers for any of these questions. I used to think that I was here to work hard, make money, raise a family and drop dead. Sounds fun, right? Not so much.

One day I realized there was more to life than jogging through the neighborhood and watching "Back to The Future" every weekend. So I said fuck it and I packed my shit. To give you a little background... Once upon a time I was a TEACHER for a couple of years, which was a huge step up from the occupational stigma my parents left behind. But I do not point fingers. They are great parents that showed me the way and never tried to hold me back. Standard, hard working folks who just wanted to provide and make things a bit better for generations to follow.

With this business both you and I will be figuring out who I AM... I will piss you off and not care. I will say things that OFFEND my mother. I will write about things that push the reader away and never look back. But I will not beg, borrow or steal for readers, but I may do that for success... Or maybe I will just achieve it the HONEST way... if that's even possible. In the meantime, laugh it up... I will strive to be original like everybody else does, but understand that I am not... And one last thing, I'm not some old creepy guy... yet.